Kathleen moaned as he sank two of his fingers into her, her hips tilting forward eagerly, her wetness and heat pulsing around him. All reason fled. Nothing mattered except being inside her. Withdrawing his fingers, he fumbled roughly for the fastenings of his trousers. She tried to help him, grappling with the obstinate buttons. Her efforts ended up hindering him in a way that would have made him laugh, if he hadn’t been so wild for her. Somehow they ended up on the floor, with Kathleen still straddling him, her skirts billowing and ballooning over them both like some gigantic unearthly flower.

Underneath the tumult of fabric, his naked flesh found hers. He positioned himself, and before he could even guide her, Kathleen had sunk down, her small, wet sex taking him deeper than ever before. They both shivered and gasped at the feel of it, the crushed-velvet texture of her closing on him in rich pulses.

She held on to his shoulders and began to roll to the side, trying to reverse their positions and pull him over her. Resisting, he caught her hips, keeping her on top. While Kathleen stared down at him with bewildered eyes, he spread his fingers over her hips and buttocks, relishing the shape of her. He showed her the movement, thrusting upward, bringing her down with care. He delayed her descent enough to let her slide a few inches down his length, and she let out a stuttering breath. Another boost of his hips, followed by a silky erotic plunge.

Kathleen began to move hesitantly, her face flooding with brilliant color. Following her instinct, she adjusted her position and moved on him with increasing confidence, finishing each drive with a forward sway that absorbed his upward thrusts.

God, he was being ridden, hard and well. She pleasured herself on him in an aggressive rhythm, faster and faster, striking a blaze of lust that made him sweat beneath his clothes and in his shoes. Perspiration trickled from his forehead. Closing his eyes, he tried to bring himself under control, but it was hellishly difficult at the pace she set. No, impossible.

“Slowly, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely, reaching beneath her dress to take her hips between his palms. “I want you too much.”

She resisted, driving him roughly, her body tightening.

The climax was rushing up to him. He could feel it intensifying no matter how he worked to stave it off. “Kathleen,” he said through gritted teeth, “I can’t… can’t hold back…”

She was beyond hearing, working on him in repeated lunges. He felt her reach the peak, the supple quivers and throbs closing all around him. In an agony of self-discipline he held still, every muscle contracted and rock-hard. Forcing himself to wait, he let her take her pleasure, even though his heart threatened to explode from the effort. He managed to give her ten seconds… the most excruciating ten seconds of his life. That was all he could last before his release began. Grunting with effort, he tried to haul her off him.

What he hadn’t bargained on, however, was the strength of her thighs, the muscles of an experienced horsewoman gripping him with a tenacity that even a thousand-pound Arabian couldn’t have unseated. As he tried to buck her off, he felt her instinctively using the movements against him, her legs locking tighter with each backlash. She was too much for him. A scalding climax overcame him, pouring through him in a pleasure as absolute as death. He bucked a few more times while she rode him through it, her body wringing out every drop of sensation without mercy.

Devon groaned and collapsed back to the floor.

As the dizzying ecstasy faded, he was chilled by the realization that he had come inside her. He’d never done that with any woman before. In fact he’d always used rubber sheaths to make certain of it. But he’d arrogantly assumed that he would have no problem withdrawing from Kathleen – and the truth was, he’d wanted to be inside her with no barriers between them.

The price he might have to pay for that was unthinkable.

Kathleen lay over him, her slender body rising and falling on his wracking breaths.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, sounding shocked. “I couldn’t stop. I just… couldn’t.”

Devon was silent, trying to think through the panic.

“What should we do now?” she asked, her voice muffled.

Although he knew of ways to prevent pregnancy, the details and particulars of what to do after the sexual act were a woman’s province.

“I’ve heard of using champagne,” he managed to say. But he had only the vaguest idea about how a contraceptive douche was administered, and there was no way in hell that he would risk harming Kathleen by making a mistake.

“Drinking champagne will help?” she asked hopefully.

He smiled grimly above her head. “Not to drink, my innocent. But it doesn’t matter – it would have to be done soon, and there isn’t time.”

Her weight on his ribs was making him ache. He eased her off his body and stood, restoring his clothes with vicious efficiency. Reaching down, he took her outstretched hand and helped her up.

As Kathleen stood and saw his expression, all the color leached from her face. “I’m sorry,” she said once more, her voice unsteady. “Please believe that no matter what happens, I won’t hold you responsible.”

His fear transformed instantly into anger, the words setting off his temper like a keg of gunpowder. “Do you think that makes a damned bit of difference?” he asked savagely. “I’m already responsible for a thousand things I never asked for.”

She replied with as much dignity as a woman could while trying to pull her undergarments back into place. “I don’t want to be included on that list.”

“For once, it doesn’t matter what you want. If there is a baby, neither of us can will it out of existence. And it’s half mine.” He couldn’t keep his appalled gaze from sliding low on her body, as if his seed were already taking root inside her. She took a step backward, the small movement infuriating him.

“When will your monthly flow begin?” he asked, struggling to moderate his tone.

“Two, perhaps three weeks. I’ll send a telegram to you in London when it happens.”

“If it happens,” he said bitterly. “And you won’t need to send a bloody telegram – you’re still coming with me. Don’t bother asking why – I’m weary of having to explain every decision I make to every person on this godforsaken estate.”

He left her before he could say anything else, striding away as if the devil were at his heels.