Clad in her underclothes, Eleanor sat at the dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. This was not how she had pictured this night. She believed Sebastian would be the one removing her clothing, lovingly kissing each piece of flesh as it was revealed.
Instead she was alone, disappointment her only companion. Broodingly, she walked to the wardrobe, pulling it open. Divesting herself of her remaining garments, Eleanor wiggled into her nightgown, then returned to her dressing table to see how it looked. The new gown, borrowed from Bianca, was too snug at the bustline, pushing the tops of her breasts up and over the already low bodice.
The sensual garment should have made her feel desirable, but with no one to admire her in it, what was the point of even wearing it? Sighing, Eleanor began tugging the pins out of her hair, letting it fall to her waist. Lost in reflective thought, she untangled the strands with her fingers, then reached for her hairbrush.
Why had Sebastian left her alone tonight? For the past few weeks he had done everything humanly possible to catch her alone. Eleanor blushed at the memory of his ardent passion, his seemingly unquenchable thirst for her.
He had been clearly happy to see her this afternoon; his warm embrace and passionate kiss were sound proof of his ardor. So, what had changed? What was different?
Eleanor put down her brush and stared ruefully at her reflection. She could sit here until morning, questioning, pondering, speculating. Or she could discover the truth. She could ask him directly.
Sebastian’s preference to be left alone could not be mistaken, but she couldn’t let that dissuade her. Before giving herself a chance to reconsider her rash actions, Eleanor snatched the matching robe to her nightgown. Donning it purposefully, she tied the sash, then left her room. On bare feet she scampered down the corridor, stopping in front of Sebastian’s bedchamber door.
Trembling slightly, her hand grasped the brass handle. She half expected it to be locked, for he had earlier claimed that he would do so, but when she turned the knob, the door opened wide. It creaked slightly on its hinges, the sound echoing loudly.
Barely able to see, Eleanor blinked several times as she stepped inside. There were no candles lit, the blaze from the hearth providing the only light. The flickering fire played over the dark tones in the spacious chamber, warming the cavernous space.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Eleanor turned at the sound of his voice. He was on the opposite side of the room, sprawled in an oversized chair near the fire, his feet propped on a footstool. He had removed his evening coat, cravat, and waistcoat. His white linen shirt was open, the top buttons undone, allowing a glimpse of his muscular chest and the dark hair that dusted it. Her heart began to race.
“I asked what you were doing here,” he repeated.
Eleanor took an involuntary step backward, her muscles tensing. He gazed at her with a clearly annoyed expression, his lean, handsome face conveying his displeasure. Eleanor thought he looked very much like a caged bear she had once seen at a country fair, angry and growling and ready to tear to shreds the first person who came near.
“You seemed a bit out of sorts when we said good night earlier,” Eleanor said, walking slowly toward him. “I wanted to be certain everything was all right.”
“Bullshit.” Eleanor halted. His gaze looked past her and he swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly. “I do beg your pardon. That was unforgivably rude.”
“Yet totally honest, something I can appreciate despite the crudeness of the remark.” She took a few more steps, which brought her directly in front of his footstool. Laying her hand gently on his knee, she added, “But you are correct. Checking on you is not the only reason I’m here. See, we can both be honest with each other. I think that’s very important, Sebastian, don’t you?”
He twitched as if she had stabbed him with the tip of a knife, then turned his face away. He stared down at the nearly empty glass in his hand, gripping the goblet tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well, I think that is an exceedingly bad idea, sweetheart.”
“Is it?”
He drank the last of the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then looked up at her. “All right, let’s have it your way. You shouldn’t be here, Eleanor. How’s that for honesty?”
“Bullshit,” she said softly, sinking down to her knees. She curled her arms around his bent legs, holding him tightly. “Being together tonight is what we both want, what we both need.”
“No.” He flinched and leaned forward. Grasping her wrists, he tried to push her hands away, but Eleanor refused to relinquish her grip.
The room became charged with emotions. Sebastian’s belligerent gaze created goose bumps all over Eleanor’s body, but she wouldn’t back away. He was defensive and uncertain, as if something weighed heavily on his mind. Whatever it was seemed to be tearing him apart inside and she felt that she was the only one who could somehow make it right.
Eleanor tensed, awaiting his next move. He remained quiet and still for so long she grew uneasy. If only he would kiss her, then everything would fall into place. The tender press of his lips to her would ignite the passion he was holding so tightly in check, would release the desire they both craved.
Her attention moved to his mouth. He wasn’t going to kiss her. She could read it in his eyes, could see it in the way he held himself so rigidly away from her. Well, there was only one remedy for that problem. Eleanor pushed herself forward and brought her lips to his.
She felt Sebastian’s shock at her bold move reverberate through his body. He remained still and passive for a heartbeat and she panicked, thinking she had been terribly wrong, worried that he would reject her. Instead, his arms went around her, one hand palming her beneath her rear to pull her closer, into his lap.
His mouth plundered hers, making her feel vibrantly alive. Moving her hips, Eleanor felt the distinctive shape of his growing erection and her triumph was complete. Finally she was going to experience the closeness she had longed for, she was going to join her body, and soul, with the man she loved.
It was inevitable really that she would come to love him. He had taken notice of her when no one else had bothered, had showered her with masculine affection and attention, something she had received only once before in her life with John Tanner.
She had been a young girl all those years ago, unable to take what was within her grasp. Or perhaps it hadn’t been her time and John hadn’t really been the one. She had been naive, infatuated, yet too inexperienced to fully comprehend womanly love.
Though it was in many ways still a mystery, she knew the love she felt for Sebastian had enriched her life. It was a blessing really that her relationship with John had ended when it did, because that allowed Sebastian to enter her life at a time when she was mature enough to appreciate what a rare gift had been bestowed upon her.
The tenor of their kisses slowly began to change, becoming more restless, more urgent. Eleanor raked one hand upward through the thick strands of Sebastian’s hair, kissing him deeply, trying to convey the depths of her feelings with her lips and tongue and hands. He returned her kisses, then muffling a curse, he suddenly tore his mouth from hers and held her at arm’s length.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled, his harsh breathing slashing through the quiet, his hand tightening convulsively in her hair. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“So you have said.” The agony on his face inspired a rush of emotion inside her. Gently she laid her hand against his cheek. “Honestly, Sebastian, you should know me well enough by now to understand that I seldom listen to anyone.”
He gave her a distorted smile, easing away from her touch. “Drink?”
“Why not?”
She could see her answer surprised him. Nevertheless, he carefully set her off his lap, then lumbered to his feet. She noticed a half-full decanter on a small table. He produced a crystal glass and filled it, handing it silently to her. “Brandy,” he explained.
“Love
ly,” she replied, taking a dainty sip, well aware of the liquor’s potency.
She was pleased to note he did not pour another drink for himself. Instead he leaned against the fireplace mantel and folded his arms against his chest, his mouth turned down in a determined frown.
He looked dangerous and wicked. For a moment Eleanor could imagine him as a pirate, a white, billowy shirt on his chest, black knee-high boots and tight buckskin breeches outlining his long muscular legs, a deadly cutlass clasped in his hand. There was such lethal appeal to his masculine beauty it almost took her breath away.
“Enjoying your drink?” he asked.
“Very much. ‘Tis excellent brandy.”
“You’ve consumed enough in your day to make a comparison, have you?” He shook his head and laughed, the sound stirring the sweet joy of desire deep inside her.
“Perhaps not, but I do know you well enough to surmise you would have the very best. Smuggled in from France, I’m certain.”
“The embargo has been lifted. There’s no need to smuggle French goods into England anymore.”
“Well, gracious, where’s the fun in having it legally?”
“God, you are a handful. I never realized it fully before.”
“There’s a great deal you haven’t realized about me, Sebastian, but that’s about to change.” She twisted on the footstool, placing her glass on the floor, then tucking her feet beneath her. A pulse drummed insistently in the pit of her stomach as she struck what she hoped was an enticing pose. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He said nothing. She waited. His gaze was somber as he stared at her, his face taut with longing. The sight brought all the tenderness and love she felt for him rushing into her heart, emotions that must have shown on her face, for he groaned and pushed away from the mantel, coming toward her.
“I won’t take you to my bed. I can’t. And I can’t explain why,” he said, his voice rough with urgency. “You need to leave, Eleanor. Please.”
Sebastian’s hunger was a raging storm. His cock was straining so hard and stiff it was painful to walk, his ballocks tightening to agony. All these weeks of sexual exploration and teasing with Eleanor without achieving his own completion had finally taken their toll. He was ready to explode, to fall upon her like some depraved, starving animal tearing into its first meal.
He had to get her out of his bedchamber! She was so tantalizing, so beguiling. Her charm was heating his blood, bringing his whole body alive with sensation. And he wasn’t even touching her.
Cautiously he moved closer. The expression on her face made his breathing go shallow. She had let her robe hang open, tantalizing him with an unobstructed view of her sheer nightgown, of her white, creamy breasts. A bolt of need hit him full force.
“I can’t leave yet, Sebastian. I see that you want me, feel that you need me.” She lifted herself up to her knees, pressing the soft curves of her body against his hardness. “If you won’t make love to me, at least let me ease you.”
“Christ, Eleanor, what are you doing?” he moaned.
She pressed her palms flat against his chest and spread her hands over his pectorals. Sebastian inhaled a sharp breath and tilted himself forward as she began to wantonly explore him. She ran her hands sensually over his chest, over his ribs and down his abdomen, then back up again. Caressing his nipples through the fabric of his shirt, she leaned in, pressing a damp kiss in the hollow of his throat.
“You are magnificent,” she purred. “So strong, so sleek, so muscular.”
Something dark and tight twisted in Sebastian’s chest. Something unrelated to the lust coursing through his body, something triggered by the wonder and honesty in her voice. In that moment he realized that his need for her was far greater than his resolve to resist her.
She wrestled with the cuff links on his sleeves, grinning triumphantly when she worked the silver links loose from their moorings. She next pushed off his shirt, baring his torso.
Sebastian stood there inert, allowing her questing fingers free rein, admitting to himself that he had lost the battle. The hot, fierce intensity of his arousal had taken control. He knew he was no match for it, especially when Eleanor was so determined to seduce him.
“Let’s go to my bed,” he whispered urgently, firmly pushing any other thoughts from his mind. She was going to hate him come morning, but tonight, ah tonight, she wanted to belong to him. And he wanted that too, more than anything.
Arm in arm they walked to the bed. Along the way Eleanor’s robe disappeared, as did Sebastian’s shoes. The mattress dipped with their weight as they settled in the middle of the bed. He reached for her the moment they were lying down, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts, which were nearly spilling over the top of her nightgown. She moaned and arched closer, and he couldn’t resist taking one of the firm, rosy nipples into his mouth.
As he suckled her breast, Sebastian unfastened his breeches with an impatient hand, shoving the placket apart to free his stiff manhood. Groaning, he thrust almost blindly against her soft curves. He buried his nose in the soft mass of her tumbling hair and breathed deeply. God help him, even her scent was intoxicating.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered wickedly. “Everywhere.”
Her questing fingers combed through the trail of hair below his navel. Sebastian’s hips twisted and he arched his back. Tenderly, she brushed the pad of her finger softly on the round head of his straining cock. He moaned. She thumbed the slit at the crown in a teasing circle, spreading the moisture slowly. He shuddered violently and she did it again.
“Eleanor,” he panted, his fingers biting into her soft thighs. “You need to slow down, love, or else it’s all going to end very soon.”
She clutched his shoulder with her other hand, rubbing her face against his neck. “Please, Sebastian. I want to do this.”
Christ Almighty! His hand reached out to cup her face. In the near darkness he could see her eyes shining brightly with desire. She’d never looked more lovely, more enticing. He leaned in and kissed her, touching his tongue to hers, sending shudders of pleasure through them both.
“Stroke me,” he said with a choked groan. “Put your hand completely over me.”
Obligingly, she wrapped her palm around the base of his erect penis and drew her fist up. He shuddered violently, bucking into her hand.
“Like this?” she asked, her voice straining with emotion.
“Grip me tighter,” he gasped. “Faster.”
She did as he commanded, finding the rhythm, stroking him until his hips were undulating off the bed. He felt himself on the edge of losing control completely, unable to gain a mastery over the situation.
“Sebastian?”
“Watch me,” he growled, pushing the limits of her sensuality. “Watch what you are doing to me.”
“I am,” she muttered. “‘Tis so beautiful. Come for me.”
Then she dipped her head and her mouth closed in torturous bliss over his nipple. She pulled it into her mouth, sucking hard.
His hand went down between his legs and he closed his fist over her smaller hand, crying out loudly as he reached final completion. Sebastian could feel his hot seed spurting over their hands, gushing forth in a river of thick moisture.
He collapsed when it was over, his breathing still harsh and ragged. Eleanor stayed beside him for a few moments, then he felt her leave the bed. He wanted to call out to her to stay, but no part of his body seemed capable of movement, including his voice.
She soon returned with a damp towel, efficiently cleaning him off as he lay sprawled on the bed. Sebastian felt lightheaded and content, his mind too heavy with alcohol to sort out precisely how this had happened, his body too sated to care. When she was done, she laid down beside him.
“Are you all right?” he finally asked, somehow finding the strength to raise himself on his elbow so he could look into her flushed, glowing face.
“I’m quite happy, thank you,” she responded primly.
&n
bsp; “That was simply … incredible. Thank you.”
Color flooded her face and she ducked her head. He lifted the hand that was plucking nervously at the counterpane and slowly kissed each finger. “I never imagined you were such a bold, uninhibited woman. I find that very exciting.”
“I’m glad.” Her head turned on the pillow and she stared at the ceiling.
“But I’m ashamed of myself for treating a lady so shabbily.”
“Ashamed?”
“A considerate gentleman does not leave his partner unsatisfied.”
“I am hardly unsatisfied, sir.”
“I beg to differ.” He lifted himself higher and loomed above her. Lowering his head, he kissed her fiercely, plundering her sweet mouth. She responded eagerly, her tongue boldly mating with his. When they both came up for air, she was smiling. “Give me twenty minutes, love, and I’ll show you precisely what I mean,” he rasped.
“Twenty?”
“Ah, actually it appears as though fifteen will do the trick, if you kiss me like that again.”
Fifteen minutes? Really? Eleanor glanced down at his groin and realized he wasn’t exaggerating. With her eyes on him, his penis began to stiffen, rising through his opened breeches.
“That doesn’t seem possible and yet …” Her voice trailed off in wonder.
“It isn’t usually the case,” he agreed, gazing at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Though already satisfied once, I still want you, need you. With a passion that borders on madness.”
“All hail miracles,” she whispered, rubbing herself against his chest, pressing her stomach against his.
Laughing, he took hold of the sides of her nightgown and began sliding it upward over her body. Obligingly Eleanor raised her arms and Sebastian lifted it all the way off and tossed it to the floor.
She should have felt embarrassed to be so exposed, but all she could think about was seeing him naked too. Her hands reached for his breeches, but he was quicker, pulling the garment off his body himself, throwing it beside her discarded nightgown. The throb of her pulse quickened at the sight of him, his thighs sleek and muscular, his thick manhood jutting up proudly from a thatch of dark hair.
A Little Bit Sinful Page 21