" I’ve imagined you like this…many times…naked, sharing my bed,” he rasped, the fervent words warming her, making her relax. “You have no idea.”
“I have some idea,” she managed. “I imagined you, too.”
He looked skeptical. “Like this?”
“Well, not exactly…I didn’t know…what to expect.” Or how shockingly intimate it would feel.
A lock of his dark hair fell over one eye, making him look more like a dangerous character and less like the formal Jackson she knew.
“And now that you do?” he asked.
“I like it.” The motion had started to warm her below, to spark the same tingling she’d felt when he rubbed her. “It’s like a very naughty waltz.”
He choked out a laugh. “Yes. I lead. You follow.”
You move between my legs.
Oh, so that’s why people thought the waltz so scandalous! “I’ll never be able to waltz again….without thinking of this,” she breathed.
He bent to whisper. “Then I’ll have to claim you for the next waltz.”
She liked that word, claim.
“And the next…and the next…” He thrust more quickly into her and her tingling heightened, twisting into something hot and exciting and infinitely more thrilling than any waltz.
“Jackson…ohhh, Jackson…”
“Every waltz…from now…until eternity.”
“Yes…” She felt as if she were spiraling upward, like sparks dancing up from the fire into the chimney and out, and now she was soaring, rising with him into the cloudless climes and starry skies where all the beauty walked…
“Yes!” she cried as she reached that pinnacle. “Oh, yes, Jackson, yes…I’m yours…I’m yours…yours…”
And with a fierce groan, he drove in deep and spent himself inside her. “As am I…” he whispered against her ear while he shuddered and shook over her. “Yours. Always. "

― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)