middle of the room had light draperies drawn back and tied against the mahogany bedposts. Fresh linen adorned the bed, and a light coverlet of blue quilted cotton. It was as though it silently waited for us to break its unoccupied spell.

I heard the click as he closed the door with a finality that made me shiver in anticipation. It had been so long. To hold him, touch him, talk to him and yet not engage in the ultimate intimacy had drawn me as tight as a drum. I had no idea this would mean so much to me, but it did.

Feeling the light pressure of his hands on my shoulders, I turned with unreserved joy into his arms. They closed hard around me and he kissed me, letting nothing hide his passion. I responded, eagerly trying to show him how much I needed him too. His tongue entered my mouth, taking possession, joining us in an imitation of what would follow. His kisses weren’t those of the experienced lover, but born of an eager, frantic desire, each kiss devouring me as if he wanted to sate himself on me. We could have been new to the experience, both of us. It made me want him more until the yearning rose to an explosive demand that nothing could deny.

He loosened his hold to slip his hand between our bodies, at the buttons of his waistcoat. If I hadn’t had my mouth on his, I would have smiled, for the first time we’d made love I’d been so eager and so nervous that when I had performed this office for him I’d pulled too hard, and showered the floor with waistcoat buttons. Obviously, he didn’t want to take the risk this time.

He released me, but never took his gaze away from mine, his hunger apparent in his wide, blue eyes. If his society acquaintances could see him now all their preconceptions about the sophisticated man of fashion would fade into mist. He slid his coat and waistcoat off in one swift movement, the satin linings making it easy for them to slip to the floor. Then he returned to hold me and kiss me again, his heat tantalisingly closer. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and my excitement lifted to fever pitch. I caressed his tongue with mine, letting him explore my mouth and meld his body to mine.

Even at this extreme of want, Richard didn’t fumble; he knew exactly where a lady was hooked, pinned and laced. He put his nimble fingers to work on my gown, unhooking, unlacing with speedy efficiency, faster than I could have done. I helped as much as I could, eagerly tugging the cord of my side hoops free, so they fell to the floor with my gown and petticoat. My other petticoats followed in quick succession, and my stays had never come off so quickly before. I needed to feel his body next to mine, ached for it. I might stop breathing if I didn’t touch him soon.

I was left in only my shift, and he went down on one knee and placed his hands either side of my legs, grasping my calves as if to steady himself. His breathing had become ragged, matching mine, the only sounds in this quiet room. He looked up at me, let me see the need in him. I stared back, hiding nothing, totally unable to. “You bring me to the level of a schoolboy with his first woman,” he said, his voice as uneven as his breath. “I want you until I think I’ll go blind from the need.”

He drew his hands up the sides of my body, bringing my shift with them, and I lifted my arms so he could pull the garment over my head in one smooth movement. The feel of his hands as they ran all the way up my body quickened my desire and I gave a little “oh” of pleasure.

“Let me see you, love.”

I stood unashamed in the middle of a discarded pool of multicoloured silk.

Quickly, efficiently, he stripped off his remaining clothes and tossed them to join the others on the floor, letting me see his hard, vigorous body while he gazed at me. It seemed we stood forever like that, the only sound being our breathing, ragged gasps. His slow smile could have stopped my heart.

Then, with an “Oh, my sweet life!” he surged forward and swept me into his arms so at last I felt his blessed warmth. He kissed me, bent to kiss the pulse on my throat that sent shivers up my spine, then he passed his hands over my back, a smooth river of caresses pouring unceasingly over me. His bare skin, his heat, his very presence intoxicated me and, as once before, I ceased to think about anything else.

There were only the two of us in the world. “Richard. I want you so much.”

“Sweetheart, I didn’t think it was possible, but I want you more than ever before.” He put his hands under me and lifted me, taking a stride towards the bed but before he could do so, unable to wait any longer, I lifted my legs to wrap around his waist, and folded my arms around his shoulders. He laughed in surprise and delight and then gasped. I slid down to touch his erection against my entrance, aching to feel him there.

He was inside me before we reached the bed. When I felt him enter me, I knew my need as raw, instinctive passion, and felt his, ruthlessly reined back for my pleasure.

He sat on the bed, instead of laying me down as I expected him to and I thrilled with the realisation that this gave me control over our lovemaking. I took it eagerly. I’d never known this kind of