“Me too.”
He ran his hands down her back and gripped her rear. Suddenly the cotton was far more than a little appealing. If his hands were to be believed—and he could not be entirely sure as he felt as though his wits were a little addled—she wore nothing underneath the cotton.
Lucian notched himself against her and heard her sharp intake of breath.
“You are hard,” she said, awe inching into her voice. It was most flattering.
He smirked. “I am hard most of the time around you.” He pressed forcefully, tried to bring some kind of relief to the ache in his groin.
Ellie’s hands ran up and down his back and she moved her hips against his arousal. Her fingers came to his trousers and tugged at the waistband. Her eagerness made him grin until she successfully undid them and slipped a hand down to cup him. That small palm holding him made his grin vanish and a strange, animalistic sound rose in his throat.
Her hand snapped back. “Forgive me.”
He grabbed her hand and pressed it back against him, rocking into her palm as he did so. “Nothing to forgive.” He slid a hand around her neck and kissed her firmly before uttering, “Do it again.”
She clasped once more, exploring the shape of him through his drawers. Her eagerness—indeed her boldness—was wholly unexpected.
Lucian took her mouth then, exploring it properly with his tongue, flicking across her lips and delving into the corner of them. Her tongue met his and he staggered back as her grip on his shaft grew bolder. Then her hand left him and he bit back a sound of disappointment.
Apprehension tangled around his windpipe when her hands found the buttons of his waistcoat, removed it, then worked on his shirt. He supposed he ought to stop kissing her and distract her in some way, but he could not bring himself to break away. She tasted too sweet, felt too hot. He could kiss her for an eternity and never get enough. He grasped and kneaded her buttocks while she popped open each button and forced his shirt from him.
The garment stuck at his wrists and she giggled as he cursed and released her to pop open his cufflinks. One flew across the room and she giggled again. He eyed her with a raised brow and flung the other one to God knows where. Then her gaze fell on his scarred arm.
He’d forgotten that. Ellie had made him forget. He stiffened when she stepped forwards and touched the scar tissue that covered much of his arm up to his shoulder. She skimmed her fingers over the bumpy flesh and he held his breath.
“I am so sorry you had to suffer this, Lucian.”
He shrugged, fighting the desire to cover up or cower away. He didn’t need to fight long. She moved her hand past the scarring and smoothed her palms over his chest and down. Her fingers traced the ridges of his stomach, searing a path. The way she stared at him, her lips parted, eyes shining... She had never looked so beautiful.
And he felt almost like his old self again. But not quite. With Ellie, there were no thoughts of seduction, of playing a game. As much as he wanted her, he needed her pleasure too.
Standing in his trousers, he slid his hands down her bare arms and drew her close. Heat radiated from her and her scent increased. He lifted her curls away from her neck and kissed up and down until a shudder ran through her, then he bit her soft lobe. Were it not for the hold he had on her, he felt sure she would collapse. Lucian registered the faint movements of her body—each softening moment, each tremble.
When her hands began fumbling around his clothes again, he released her earlobe and set to work untying the ribbon on the front of her chemise. She stiffened.
Lucian held her back from him. “What’s the matter?”
She bit her lip. “Horse,” she whispered so softly he had to strain to hear it.
What in the blazes? “Horse?”
“What if you still prefer your horse to me?”
If he was not standing half-clothed, with his arousal aching and desire coursing through his veins, he might have laughed. Had she not looked so desperately frightened, he could have told her not to be foolish. Instead he longed to go back and take away his careless words and his idiocy. How did he never see what stood before him now?
“How will I know if you will not let me see you?” he asked, keeping his tone soft as though she were a skittish animal.
Ellie did not fight him when he finished with the ribbon. She remained frozen—no longer pliant and desperate. Had he not been so frantic with need, maybe he would have offered better words of reassurance, but he had none. Perhaps if he had been thinking clearly, he would have pointed out she was more likely to prefer his horse over his own scarred body, than he find her unattractive.
Slowly, he inched up the fabric until it was bunched by her hips. He did not have to glance down to know she wore nothing else. Nothing but this thin slip stood between him and her skin. His knuckles brushed a fragile hip bone and he pushed it higher still, drawing it over her head and leaving her clenching her fists by her side, completely exposed.
He drew in a sharp breath. He had never seen a woman so willowy. He had tended to go for curvaceous women, even sometimes plump. Why had he never considered such a woman until Ellie? She had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. The corsets she wore likely did a fine job of pushing them up as they were not as bountiful as he might have thought, but he put a hand over one and found it filled his hand perfectly. And the colour of her nipples...Pink and dusky and as tempting as her lips. He had no choice but to bend down and taste one.
Lucian didn’t spend long there, though he promised himself he would soon. He had to take in the rest of her once more. She shuddered and arched into his touch as he skimmed a hand down the delicate indent of her waist and eyed her long limbs. Why had he never imagined what it would be like to bed a woman with such long legs? They went on forever and images of them wrapped around his hips rocked him.
“Definitely...would...not choose my horse,” he grated out.
Grasping her hip, he dug his fingers into her flesh and drew her close to press his arousal against her. Ellie sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head at the feel of her soft and pliant against him. She might be slender but she was warm and feminine.
Ellie remained stiff for a while until he rocked into her, then she melted like butter in his arms, giving herself up to his kisses. Her mouth moved eagerly against his and the tempest swept them up once more. Desperate hands came between them and set to work tugging at the remainder of his clothes. He kissed her as he fought to slip his feet out of his shoes. He tried to kiss her as he tugged off his trousers. To break away while he tore off his trousers and drawers almost killed him.
A gasp echoed about the room and he vaguely wondered if she’d finally registered the ugliness of his scars but, when a cool hand came to cup him as he straightened, any thoughts of any kind flew from his mind. He groaned and thrust his fingers into her hair to tilt her head back and claim the arch of her throat. Her touch spoke of inexperience—strange for a widow, but then had he not figured out her husband neglected her?—yet it was a bold, inquisitive touch, and one that had him reeling. Heat licked through his body and consumed him in every way.
Ellie consumed him in every way.
Fearing his knees might give way, he hooked a hand under her legs and swung her into his arms. One of the many benefits of having such a lithe creature in his arms, he thought to himself. She was so easy to manoeuvre. He could have a great deal of fun showing her all sorts of positions.
But for now, the bed would do. He cursed when he nearly tripped on his shoes and spilled her onto the bed. She giggled and buried her head against his neck, her soft curls teasing his skin. In all his years of pursuing women, he did not think, firstly, he had ever been such a blundering fool, and secondly, that he had ever felt the urge to laugh and grin whilst making love.
Her giggles where infectious as he too laughed as he dropped her to the bed, making her bounce against the purple bedding.
Lucian crawled over her and paus
ed to rest on both hands so he could view her. Mirth still twinkled in her grey eyes—eyes that drew him in and made him forget all reason.
“Do you laugh at me, Ellie?”
“Just a little,” she admitted.
“Many men would be greatly offended.”
“You are not many men.”
He resisted the urge to puff out his chest. “That is true. Little Ellie, you have such a way with words.”
Disappointment shuttered her gaze and he slipped a leg between hers to bring them closer together before dropping a kiss to her nose. “What is it? Is this not what you wish?”
If she said no, it would kill him. He held his breath and awaited her answer.
“You still see me as little Ellie.”
Ah. Lucian eased back enough to prop himself on one elbow, his leg still twined with hers. “Old habits die hard and I speak only with fondness.” He skimmed a hand down her side and back up to cup her breast. She instinctively arched into his touch, an age-old movement that made blood roar in his ears. “Here, on this bed, naked and wanting, I see you only as a beautiful woman with needs.”
“Beautiful?” she whispered, disbelief tingeing her voice.
“Yes, beautiful.” He leaned over her once more to kiss a path down her neck to the hollow of her breasts. “Now are you to keep me talking all night or am I to make use of this beautiful naked body?”
Ellie gasped in delight as he sealed his mouth around one nipple and drew it into his mouth. “Oh, make use of me. Please.”
Her breathy plea was the undoing of him. There would not be many more words, he suspected. Just touches and cries.
Using his teeth to nibble lightly at her nipples, he concentrated on them until she was writhing beneath him. He then kissed his way down the delicate span of her waist and even stopped to kiss her hips. When he drew apart her thighs, her scent greeted him and if possible, he grew harder. He touched the nest of brown curls and she jolted towards his fingers.
Lucian grinned. She might not be little Ellie in body or mind anymore, but she was in soul. She demanded pleasure and was not shy about it. The Ellie he had known had taken delight in every moment. Until his foolish behaviour that was. It relieved him to see that woman remained, even if tucked away.
“Lucian,” she breathed when he split those curls with his fingers and brushed her sensitive skin to find her wet and wanting.
He dropped lower to bring his lips to the inside of her thigh. Soft skin met his mouth and the fragrance of her intoxicated him. He had to have a taste.
Keeping her parted for him with a hand on either thigh, he lapped his tongue up towards his prize. She uttered a surprised sound but surrendered instantly when he pressed his tongue into her. With long strokes, he pleasured her until she was squirming beneath him. He took the opportunity to suck and nibble her pearl while she clawed at his back. The noises she made would flatter any man’s ego. He only hoped the walls of the hotel were thick.
Her thighs locked around him and her hands winnowed into his hair. He had little choice but to bring her to her peak—though not even wild horses could have dragged him away. When he felt tiny tremors wrack her body and her thighs tighten around him further, he thrust one finger up into her and circled her nub rapidly with his tongue. It took only moments for her to burst apart beneath him and he savoured her trembling orgasm while lapping gently until she collapsed.
Swiping the back of a hand across his mouth, he rose up and slid beside her. He kept a possessive hand on her breast and eyed her. “I hope you’re not done,” he said with a grin.
She turned her head to eye him and echoed his grin. In fact, it was likely more wicked than any grin he had ever bestowed upon a woman. A hand pressed him back and she came over to straddle him. What had he done? He had unleashed a beast. Lucian dropped his head back and surrendered to her. What else could he do but enjoy the ride?
Chapter Eighteen
Along for the Ride
Emboldened by his drooped eyelids and the way his chest rose and fell rapidly when she straddled him, Ellie skimmed her fingers down his chest to trace the ripples of his stomach. She sighed. So perfectly built.
She had read of this position in a naughty book—an instruction manual of a kind, she supposed—but had never tried it. The times Edward had bedded her had been quick and perfunctory. And even then he had struggled to find her attractive.
But Lucian did not, it seemed. His manhood remained firm, large...impressive. Even at the sight of her on top of him. Remarkably, she did not seem to repulse him. She had no idea why, but she didn’t care. Little Ellie Browning had one of the most eligible, attractive men in England between her thighs and she refused to question that.
She looked her fill, using her fingers and her gaze to trace him. He stared up at her, his green eyes dark and intense. That wry smile sat on his lips but she did not believe he was being sardonic. Perhaps her boldness amused him, but either way, she had one chance with Lucian and she was going to use it to fulfil everything she had been dreaming of for so many years.
Marvelling at the way his muscles contracted under her fingers, she dropped her hand down to curl around his arousal. The heat and strength of him made her body tighten and desire pooled low in her belly.
So beautiful. Even with the rough skin on his arm, he was almost too beautiful to look at. His dark hair was ruffled with a curl falling across his forehead. His full lips begged for kisses. In fact, the damage to his arm only made him more attractive if possible. It added a dangerous air—or perhaps increased his dangerous air. There had never been anything safe about Lucian. He’d always been a rogue.
Lucian reached to cup her breasts and she batted his hand away. An eyebrow rose and she grinned. “Do not distract me.”
“Distract you? What of me? How am I to suffer you touching me when you will not allow me to touch you? You are like a tempting morsel, just out of reach.”
“Poor Lucian, such a tortured soul.”
“Oh I am, my love. I am.”
Love. The endearment rang in her ears and nearly turned her to mush. It meant nothing—a mere throwaway comment—but it warmed her chest. She certainly preferred it to ‘little Ellie.’
She leaned over him and flattened her aching breasts to his chest. His breath rasped in his throat and his shaft pulsed against her. Ellie mimicked his early attentions, kissing her way down his chest, lapping her tongue over his nipples and kissing his torso. He stiffened when she tried to kiss his scarred arm so she switched her attention to his firm thighs. Perhaps his scars affected him more than she realised. It was astonishing to think Lucian, Viscount of Rushbourne, had a weakness.
With her tongue, she licked up his thigh, inhaling the musky scent of him. He groaned and pressed his fingers into her hair.
“Ellie, don’t you dare,” he warned.
Grinning, she licked higher.
“Ellie.”
She even heard his teeth clench together when she darted her tongue over the smooth head of him. He tasted tangy and slightly salty. She wanted more. Never in her married life had she ever been able to do such a thing, yet her travels had afforded her much more knowledge than many gently bred ladies.
Strong hands wrapped around her arms as he rose up and dragged her back up.
Wide-eyed, she found herself sprawled atop him and staring into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You do everything very right and any other time, I might have let you continue...”
“You mean I can do that again?”
He rolled his eyes. “I swear, you will be the death of me.” She waited for an answer. “Yes, you can do it again. Just not now. I shall disgrace myself.”
“I do not think that possible.”
“It is very possible when I see your beautiful lips touching me... Where in the devil did you learn such things?”
There it was again. Beautiful. It was impossible to believe yet Lucian had never been one for false compliments. Quite the oppo
site, as she well knew.
“Books,” she replied, dropping a kiss to his lips. “All from books.”
“I think,” he said, skimming his hands up and down her back, and grasping her rear, “I should take much more time to read.” She moved against him and saw the cords in his neck stand out. “Or not.”
His fingers dug into her flesh and he coaxed her to rock her hips so her damp folds rubbed up and down his shaft. Bursts of pleasure shot through her and she dug her nails into his chest.
Jaw tight, he lined her up with him, never taking his gaze from her. Ellie reached between them and grasped his arousal to guide him into her. The urge to sink sharply down onto him drove her wild but he must have sensed her eagerness as his hands pressed to her hips stopped her.
“Slowly.”
He was right of course. It had been a long time and even then, she had never been with a man like Lucian. She inched down, the pace almost unbearable, but his grip remained firm on her. Ellie felt her eyes go wide as he entered her and that dry smile of his dropped. Lucian’s expression grew serious and made her chest tighten.
“Bloody hell,” he pressed through clenched teeth when she could go no further.
Tempted to echo those words, she pressed her lips together and moved experimentally. The tightness eased quickly and instant gratification simmered through her veins. She rose and fell again, unable to prevent a cry spilling from her lips.
Something snapped, maybe inside her, perhaps inside him. Any restraint she had disappeared with the one movement and she repeated the movement quickly at the urging of his hands. The sensation of him so deep inside her was unbelievable and the sight of him so handsome and serious was almost unbearable. She needed to close her eyes to it but could not.
Lucian’s grip tightened on her hips and he lifted his own to work deep inside her while she rode him with an increasing pace. Her hair tickled her back and likely spilled all about her but she did not care. All she cared for was more.
Rogues and Ripped Bodices Page 24