Page 38 of His Temporary Duchess
It did not take long for Sebastian to join her. At first, as he entered and shrugged off his coat, he did not notice her in the shadows. He looked weary here, she noticed. He dragged a hand down his face with a sigh and strolled to the window, where a low moon illuminated the formal gardens and the wilderness beyond. Somewhere in the distance lay London, but they lay far enough outside it that the city was only a smudge on the horizon, invisible in the dark.
She watched, fascinated, as Sebastian tugged his cravat off and tossed it aside. He then lit a candle, shielding the flame from the air and touching it to the wick. Light bloomed, casting his reflection against the window panes. Unable to wait any longer, Eleanor stepped out from where she had been standing, and Sebastian’s head snapped around.
“You seem tired,” she began, and took one step closer. “I thought I might be able to assist you with that.”
His gaze flicked to the adjoining door, then back to her. “I thought I—”
“Youdidlock it. I entered through the main door.” She reached for the hem of her nightgown, and in one smooth motion, tugged it over her head and away. This had not, strictly, been part of Olivia’s instructions, but the events in the carriage left her under no illusions about the strength of his desire for her. Whatever his reasons for not wanting her as a wife, he certainly wanted her as a woman.
He sucked in a breath as her nightgown dropped to the floor in a silken heap beside her ankles. The cool air bit at her bare breasts and the tender, aching flesh between her legs. She had never been exposed like this before, but the light that flared in his eyes—desperate hunger—made her feel warm all over.
“Eleanor.” His voice cracked on her name.
“If you want me to leave, you will have to force me out of the door.”
“I gave you instructions in the carriage.”
“And I have obeyed them.” She sucked in a long, deep breath. “But I wish for you to touch me again. I wish for—”Everything. She wished for everything, even though she did not know precisely what that meant.
“I know.” He blinked, and it was as though his entire being focused in on her, his attention as sharp and cutting as a knife, just as deadly, just as sure. She craved the feel of it against her skin. Her nipples peaked, and her breasts felt heavy. This desire was an all-consuming thing inside her, aneedthat transcended mere lust.
“Sebastian,” she whispered. “Please.”
Perhaps he had already made up his mind, or perhaps her plea was what did it for him. Regardless, he took two strides toward her, lifted her, and carried her across to his large poster bed.Eleanor stared at the darkened hangings above her, then up at Sebastian’s face, equally dark, but this time with hunger.
“You should not have entered my bedchamber tonight,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “That was a mistake.”
She shivered in delicious anticipation. “Show me what a mistake it was.”
He let out a small groan before reaching up to cup her breasts, tweaking her nipple just hard enough that she gasped through the flash of pain that traveled through her, hot and wet andpleasurable.
“Before you arrived, I had plans of my own,” he said, giving her breasts a light slap, one at a time. She held her breath, waiting for more. There would be more—she knew it, a womanly instinct reassured her that he would not step away now.
“Oh?”
“Now you are going to fulfill them for me.” He shrugged out of his waistcoat, then ripped his shirt off from over his head. The light played across the muscles of his chest and back, and she followed the trail of hair that pointed to his waistband. The carriage had been too dark to see much at all, but here, with the light of the candle, she would finally see itall. He would be as bare to her as she was to him.
Lastly, he addressed himself to his breeches, tugging them down his legs so his member stood free, thick, and proud as it jutted from his body. For a moment, trepidation filled her. Although she had not knownpreciselywhat to expect, she knew a little of what transpired between a man and a woman. After all, she had been around the ladies of thetonoften enough, even if they frequently forgot she was there.
So she knew, therefore, that his length should goinside her. She would, somehow, have to accommodate his girth.
Still, she swallowed and attempted not to let him see any of her thoughts. That would not help matters; no matter what he pretended, she knew he would not do anything to truly hurt her. There had been enough of kindness in him—betrayed reluctantly—for her to know that she was safe with him.
He bent closer and kissed her, one hand roughly around the back of her head, tangled in the hair she had left down. She kissed him back with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. More, if possible.
She wanted him. How shewantedhim.
His hand slid down her body, across her stomach, to the damp hair below, and the slick flesh that lay between her thighs. He groaned at the feel of it.
“So responsive,” he murmured as she twitched, pleasure alive inside her. “What folly to have married such a sensual being.”
“Folly?” she gasped.
“I could not stop myself from wanting to pleasure you even if necessity demanded it.” He touched her again. “But that’s not what you want, is it, sweet? I know how you respond to me. Pleasure that is given freely does not taste as sweet as that which is earned.”
She gasped a little at the push of his fingers inside her. Yet even as she craved his touch, she knew he was right. She wanted to do something for him—unlike the last time, during which she had not been allowed to touch him once.
If she merely took, the feel of his hands against hers would not feel as good.