Page 46 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel

“I think you were right about book-learning,” she breathed. “There’s no substitute for practical firsthand experience.”

“Doesyourhand want to experience it?” His jaw clenched as he stroked himself again, slowly up and down, and she nodded.

She reached out and trailed her fingers over the hard ridges of his stomach, then stroked down to the tangle of curls. With a growl of impatience, he caught her hand and wrapped her fingers around his length, covering them with his own, and she gasped, fascinated by the paradoxical combination of rigid muscle and silky-soft skin. He washot.

He gave her fingers a squeeze, then pulled their joined hands away with a rueful sound.

“Enough of that, or our joint investigation will be concluded very quickly.”

She knew what he was referring to. Tess and Daisy had explained the mechanics of lovemaking in helpfully graphic terms. Men experienced the same pleasurable convulsions as she herself had just received from hishand, but when they did, they released a fluid that could impregnate a woman if he happened to be inside her.

Ellie bit her lip. Courtesans, presumably, had frank discussions with men all the time, but she was unsure how to delicately phrase her request.

“I know this isn’t the most convenient moment, but… I can’t risk conceiving a child.”

Harry reached forward and cupped her jaw, stroking his thumb over her lips in a slow caress that made her shiver.

“I didn’t dream that you’d be here with me tonight, so I don’t have anything prepared. Sheaths need soaking before they can be used. But if you trust me, there are other things we can do. I can take my pleasure, and give it to you, without risking your reputation.”

Ellie caught his hand and interlaced their fingers. “I trust you.”

It was true. At least partially. She trusted him with her body, if not with her heart. And her body was clamoring for more.

He let out a slow exhale, as if he’d been braced for rejection, then leaned forward and kissed her with a passion that took her breath away.

His knee pressed the mattress near her hip and she lay back on the bed as he crawled over her. His mastery was thrilling, irresistible, and she surrendered to it with a needy moan.

“God, Ellie, I want you so much. Please, let me touch you.”

His hands slid into the curve of her waist, then down, over her chemise and bare thighs. Desperate to feel her skin against his, she lifted her hips, helping him pull the chemise up and over her head in a blur of movement, hardly breaking their kiss.

She was left in just her stockings and garters.

Her breasts came into contact with the warm skin of his chest, but she barely had time to register the sensation before he slid down her body and fastened his lips over her nipple. His wicked tongue licked and flicked the peak, while his left hand cupped her other breast, stroking it with a kneading rhythm that made her blood feel like molten lava in her veins.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” he murmured. “I wanted to spirit you away and do precisely this.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back up, shocked by the intensity of the pleasure. He captured her mouth again, sharing her breath, his hips rocking against hers. The hot length of his cock pressed against her stomach, rigid, almost painful, and he let out an impassioned groan.

“So perfect,” he whispered. “So perfect it’s a crime. Open your legs for me, Ellie.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ellie parted her thighs, and the weight of him slid down to settle between them. The smooth buckskin of his breeches was a delicious tease, and then she felt the slick head of his cock pressing at the entrance to her body.

They both stilled. Harry lifted himself up onto his elbows, relieving her of some of his weight, and she stared into his eyes—one blue, one green-brown—so close that she could make out the individual flecks of color that gave him such a unique look.

Her heart was pounding in her throat at the momentous step she was about to take, and for the briefest moment she was seized by an incredulous and utterly inappropriate desire to laugh.

She didn’t even know his real name! This was madness, utter madness.

And yet, inexplicably, sheknewhim. Knew his essence, his soul. He was a reckless, wicked, wily scoundrel, and she wanted him, by whatever name he chose to use.

He raised his brows at her in silent question, as if checking that she wanted him to continue, and she liftedher hips in answer. Satisfied, he leaned down and caught her lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently, at the same moment as he pressed forward and slid into her.

Ellie gasped against his mouth as her body resisted the unaccustomed invasion. He kissed her, deeply, hungrily, and she forgot about the slight discomfort as his fingers tightened on her hip. He withdrew, then pressed again, and her inner muscles yielded to the pressure, welcoming him inside.

So this was what ruination felt like. A sweet, deep ache. Two bodies as close as they could possibly be.