Page 52

“Open. Your. Eyes. Eleanor.” His finger moved faster with his punctuated words. Eleanor opened her eyes to see their reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t recognize herself. Her hair was a mess, and the dress that once laid so perfectly was now pulled askew in the throes of passion.

“Do you see what you do to me?”

Eleanor rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, giving in to the building tension in her core.

“No, don’t do that. I want you to watch how you come undone on my hand.”

Eleanor opened her eyes. She watched as her body writhed and moved under his ministrations.

Her eyes locked in on his in the reflection. His crude comment unlocked something deep within her. She felt powerful, feminine, worshipped, seen.

The control she felt in that moment began to slip away as a powerful surge of electricity that was building within her was near completion. Her face must have conveyed her concern because the Duke began whispering in her ear.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Look at you. Follow that feeling, Eleanor. Take control of your body. That’s a good girl. Let it happen.”

His fingers began to concentrate on the spot that had her movements turn frantic against his.

Her moans were growing with each movement. She was close. She grabbed onto the arm that had her pinned against him.

As her body was preparing her for something she never experienced, the Duke pulled her away from the window. He pushed her back up against the wall and captured her scream in his mouth. His tongue swept into hers as her scream lessened into whimpering.

His kisses became softer, coaxing her down from her high.

He brought his hand out from under her skirt.

Eleanor saw the slickness on it, and her cheeks reddened.

The Duke brought his finger up to his mouth and sucked on it, closing his eyes on a moan.

“I knew you would be delicious.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened. Her mind and body were still wavering from the onslaught of feelings and emotions they had just experienced. Her throat was dry, and her knees were weak.

“You should probably stop by the privy on your way back to the ballroom. Can’t have Mr. Riggins seeing this pretty dress all messed up,” the Duke said with a cheeky grin before he turned and walked away leaving Eleanor alone and reeling.

As soon as the haze of ecstasy disappeared, Eleanor felt only one thing. Pure rage.

Derek pushed his way into a random door.Oh thank God, this room has whisky.

He poured himself a generous amount and took a pull. When he looked up, he saw his reflection in the window. His hair was run through. He could still feel her nails scraping against his skull. His body reacted to the memory.

“Damn it,” he said to himself.

Looking at his reflection, he leaned his forehead on the cool glass. “She is not yours. She is not yours.”

Frustration built up, and he pushed himself away from the window. He began to pace in the small study, raking his hands through his hair.

Anyone could have seen them. Could have seen her. Anyone could have seen the way her eyes widened when a new sensation hit her. Anyone could have seen how her body moved when chasing that primal high.

Normally the thought of getting caught excited him. He was always one to push the limits, that was a part of his success. But the thought of someone else seeing Eleanor that way set off alarm bells in his head.

Someone could have been in the hallway or in the garden the window looked out onto. “You fool,” he chastised himself.

He stood with his hands on his hips, his head hung low. The only solace he had was that he pulled her further into the shadows and away from the window. Well, that, and he didn’t push her own limits, and his, and take her right there in the hallway.

Derek righted himself and smoothed down his hair and jacket. It was a mistake, nothing more. The moment got away from him; he could control himself. He’d have to for her sake and his.