FINALLY! To saturdayslump - I am so freaking sorry this took so long to update. But I am going to be trying my darnest to finish this fic by the end of this year! I hope you like this chapter.

Warning: Frank language ahead, so mature audiences only please.

The present

Oh no.

She could not believe she had uttered the very words which had formed in her mind the moment she saw him. Emily watched as his nostrils flared and his pupils dilate. Her declaration seemed to hang in the air between them, a beacon of temptation towards the forbidden. He said nothing, but even as she told herself not to expose herself any further, she felt her mouth opening. "I can't seem to stop wanting you. I…think about you all the time. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it."

"Do you think of me when you are lying abed at night?" Aaron's voice was low and rough, rasping across nerves that were already sensitised by his proximity.

"Yes."

"And have you touched yourself the way I showed you that night?"

Emily drew a shuddering breath, feeling a rush of moisture between her thighs at his words. The memory of him behind her, one hand around her waist, holding her upright, and the other stroking her intimately made her sex throb. "Y-yes." Her voice was a mere wisp of a sound.

Heat blazed in his eyes, so hot that she felt scorched. "Was it pleasurable?" His voice had dropped to a growl, so low that what had come out of his mouth were barely comprehensible.

Yet she heard him. "I..yes." But it had not been the same as when he had touched her. The peaks she had attained were mere shadows of the ones he had brought her to that fateful night. She had resigned herself to never experiencing it again, had told herself that she should be grateful for that one night.

His eyes narrowed. "But it isn't enough?" he asked, reading her thoughts.

Emily's gaze locked with his, and the sheer magnetism that he emanated meant she was unable to deny him anything. Including the truth. "It is never enough," she replied softly. "It is nothing like what I felt when you…" she licked her lips nervously, watching as his eyes dropped down to her lips.

"When I…?" he prompted, when she didn't continue.

"When you touch me."

Aaron's jaw hardened and nostrils flared. "When I touch you where?" His voice was a velvety growl, making her quiver.

"M-my…" Her voice trailed off. Embarrassment flooded her and she shook her head. "I cannot say it."

"You can," he replied. "Remember what we said that night. There is nothing you cannot say, nothing you cannot ask. Nothing you cannot do. Remember?"

She stared at him, her breath coming rapidly between parted lips. "I remember."

"Then tell me. Where do I touch you that gave you pleasure?"

"My quim." Her words were almost soundless.

Satisfaction flared in his eyes. "I have never tasted anything so sweet as your luscious little cunny."

Emily swallowed convulsively, her nipples tightening painfully in response. She knew she should be shocked, even offended at his words, but all she felt was hot and aching. How could she be so desperate for his touch when she had only been in his presence mere minutes?

"Do you want me to place my mouth there again, Emily? To suckle you, taste your juices, tongue your little pearl?"

Oh God.

Her breath stuttered. Aaron was making love to her with words. Deliberately arousing her so that she would want him so badly that she would…what? What could she do? She was the daughter of a marquess, the widow of a viscount. Even if she considered taking a lover, it could never be him. He was a police officer. So far beneath her position that she might as well take the local fishmonger to bed. She should go. Forget him. Put him and the entire incident out of her mind.

"Emily." His deep voice brought her out of her thoughts. "We were interrupted that night, and I had to leave before I could bring you more of the pleasure I promised you. You should know that for the first time in my life I resented being a police officer. But I had no choice, so I left and I resigned myself to the fact that I would never see you again. But it seems that fate has a different view. For here you are, right before me." He took a step towards her, his eyes fierce in its intensity. "I am not willing to let this chance meeting pass us by without asking this of you. Will you allow me in your bed again, Emily? I know, just as you know, that you will not regret it." The dark promise in his voice made her tremble.

Could she? Dare she? And yet, how could she not? The brief time she had spent with him had changed her in ways she did not even fully comprehend. She hungered for more, for him. For his touch, his body, his embrace. She wanted to touch him in return, give him the pleasure that he had not had the opportunity to experience that night. To see the look on his face when he reached his peak. Perhaps she could say yes. Just this once.

"Yes," she said quickly, before she could change her mind, and saw triumph appear on his face. Deep down, she knew exactly how imprudent she was being. It was utter folly, but she could not say no to him. She had to be with him again. To know exactly what it would be like to have him cover her body with his, feel him entering her, thrusting deep and long and hard.

"Stop." His savage growl made her start.

Emily stared at him wide-eyed. The ferocity of his expression sent a frisson of fear down her spine. "I don't understand."

"I know exactly what you are thinking."

"What?" She felt her cheeks flame at the knowing look in his eyes.

"You were thinking about how it would feel when I am between your thighs."

She shook her head reflexively, but he continued to speak, his voice low, almost hoarse with desire. He took another step towards her.

"I will be hot and hard, so swollen for you that you will be fighting to take me into your sweet cunny. You are so tight and small that I will have to take care when I enter you. But you will take all of me, even if I have to spend all night easing my cock into you. And then, when I'm finally all the way in, I will be gentle no longer. When I finally fuck you, you will know that you are mine, and mine alone."

He was now barely a feet from her, his sandalwood and mint scent made richer from his arousal. She realised dimly that she was panting, her nipples so tight that they chafed against the soft linen of her shift. Her juices seeped thickly from her core, her body so on fire from his words and his proximity that if he were to press her up against the wall of his office and take her in full view of anyone who walked past, she would not even care.

"Please," she whispered, hearing the pleading note in her voice.

His eyes glittered with male satisfaction. "Tonight."

"Yes."

"I know that you will be tempted to pleasure yourself when you return home, but don't. I want you to wait for me. Do you understand, Emily?" When she nodded jerkily, he exhaled slowly and stepped back. "Do not touch yourself. I promise that the pleasure you will experience tonight will be unimaginable." He paused for a moment. "Now, would you like to take a seat and tell me what it is that you came to tell me." He indicated the chair in front of his desk.

Emily watched him walk stiffly back to his desk before following more slowly. She sat down, flinching slightly as she felt the slickness of her arousal on her thighs. Her drawers must be soaked. Heavens, how was she to explain it to her maid? She looked up just in time to see him wince when he sat down behind his desk, her eyes widening at the sight of him reaching down, presumably to adjust himself.

His mouth twitched. "We are quite the pair, are we not?"

Even though a blush adorned her cheeks, she could not help but smile. She did not know why she felt no shame when she was with him. Perhaps it was because he appeared to be so comfortable with himself and the whole notion of coitus. His experience was much more vast than hers. "It seems that whenever we meet, I find myself in need of an extra pair of drawers."

His eyelids became hooded. He was clearly recalling the same scene from their previous encounter, as was she. "Or you could forego them entirely."

A burst of shocked laughter escaped. "That would be scandalous."

"No one would know," he drawled.

The lazy tone made her wonder what it would be like to awake in the mornings to find herself in his arms. Stop, she told herself. There was no place for such thoughts. "You would know," she countered. To her relief, she could feel her heat in her body begin to abate.

"That would be a most delectable secret." He shook his head. "No, you are right. It is a ghastly idea. I am barely able to function as it is. You, Lady Emily, are singularly distracting." His rueful smile made her feel unaccountably pleased with herself.

Pull yourself together, Emily. She folded her gloved hands on her lap and straightened her spine. "About Mr Barron."

She watched as his countenance changed. The smile disappeared and his face again adopted a stern, serious expression. "You knew him?"

"Not very well. He was a friend of my husband's."

He went very still. His brown eyes became flat and cold. "You're married." It was not a question. Even though his expression remained impassive, she knew instinctively that her answer mattered to him.

"I am not married. I am a widow." It felt strange to say that aloud. It was not that she had forgotten what she was. How could she, when she lived in her husband's family home, dependent on the miserly stipend that he had bequeathed to her. She sighed inwardly at her uncharitable thought. To be fair, the amount was a reasonable one, and in the past had been enough to cover her expenses while she lived in the country. But now that she was back in London, she found that she could barely cover the cost of her bonnets and lace kerchiefs, never mind an entire wardrobe.

"I see." The tension slowly eased in his shoulders. "And your husband was?"

"Viscount Merton."

He looked silently at her. When he finally spoke, he did not address her answer. "Do you know something about the circumstances surrounding Mr Barron's death?"

"No," she replied truthfully. At his frown, she quickly continued. "It is true that I do not have information regarding his murder. However, I thought it may be of interest to you that at least three other friends of my husband's have died in the last twelve months."

Aaron's frown deepened. "Through natural causes?"

"Well, one was involved in a carriage accident, the second suffered a fall down the stairs in his home and the third died in his sleep."

"Give me their names, if you please."

She did so, waiting as he wrote them down in his notebook. His penmanship was impeccable, and yet its bold and distinctive strokes conveyed its owner's masculinity and authority. How wonderful it would be to be the recipient of letters that he wrote. For she knew that whatever task he undertook was always measured and given full consideration. She had known him only a short time, but she could see that he was a man of stark economy and efficiency, wasting neither words nor energy. The only time she had known him to linger over something was when he was lavishing all his attention on her body. The sudden image of his dark head between her thighs made her breath catch and she squeezed her thighs convulsively.

She heard his sharp inhalation of breath. "You're doing it again."

Emily licked her lips, noticing that his eyes had followed the path of her tongue. "I'm sorry."

"Do not ever be sorry." He paused for a moment as if he was composing himself. "Was there anything else?" he asked tightly.

"I don't…think so." It was difficult to breathe when he was looking at her with banked heat in his eyes. His body was rigid with such tension that she could almost feel it vibrating in the air between them.

"Anderson!" he called out. Aaron pushed a piece of paper towards her. "I will be at this address at ten tonight. If you are not there by half past ten, I will know that you have changed your mind and we will never speak of that night at Madame Sagnier's again. If you do decide to come, know that I will not rest until I have had my fill of you. And judging by the way I am feeling at present, it will take all night. And possibly more."

She stared at him, lips parted at the dangerously dark sensuality in his voice. Before she could reply, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come." He turned back to her as Anderson came inside. "Constable Anderson will escort you to your carriage."

Emily stood up on weakened limbs.

Aaron bowed. "Thank you for coming in, Lady Emily. We are most appreciative of your assistance."

She inclined her head politely, unable to trust herself to speak.

"Till our next meeting then."

"Good day, Mr Hotchner."

As the carriage took her homewards, she wondered how she could bear the hours until she saw him again. What was going to happen tonight? Would she be able to endure the onslaught of pleasure that lay in wait for her? She had to know, and yet at the same time, she prayed that meeting him tonight would not prove to be a mistake that would cost her everything.

Okay, this was supposed to be the sexy times chapter, but my muse had other ideas. Next, we get to see what really happened 'that' night.

Also, to all those who asked for an epilogue to My Dark Duke. It's on the way, I promise!