Mary Nichols - Regency High Society Vol 5 - The Disgraced Marchioness / The Reluctant Escort / The Outrageous Debutante / A Damnable Rogue

‘Tell me that you do not want this,’ he demanded, ‘and I will open the door and let you go free. But tell me now before it is too late.’

‘You know that I cannot.’ Her voice might be soft, but her reply was immediate. Her eyes never faltered.

‘Have you then become a temptress, my lady?’ She could not read the expression on his face, the edge in his words.

‘No. Or perhaps yes.’ She would not lie, caught in the forcefield of his power. ‘I am not the naïve innocent that I was, no longer a green girl with no knowledge or acceptance of the desires of my own heart. And I remember you, Hal. I remember what it was like to lie in your arms. I remember only too well. So, yes, I want you. I would be a fool to deny it.’

He could wait no longer but pulled her close, destroying the distance between them. Her body was held hard against his, that she would feel the strength and urgency of his desire for her. His mouth met hers, hot, feverish, her lips parting beneath his in willing submission as his tongue sought out the inner softness of her lips. Yet it was no submission. There was no force here. Her response was as heated as his, meeting fire with fire, as demanding and overwhelming as the need that surged through his own blood.

Now, although he released her to stand alone, he gave her no chance to retreat. They were beyond that. With clever fingers he dealt with the intricacies of her gown, removing it with all due care to her and the delicate fabric that she wore, all the while subjugating the force that drove him to tear and ravage, to permit the sensation of his hands against her skin. Her silk stockings were unrolled to reveal elegant calves and high-arched feet, as soft and smooth as their delicate covering. The diamonds were unpinned and unclasped to be discarded at her feet as so much dross. Until she stood before him in her chemise, her feet bare, her face naked and vulnerable before his searching gaze.

‘I had forgotten how very beautiful you are.’

With neither reply nor response to the stunned amazement in his voice, Eleanor bent her head and began to unfasten the ribbons to remove her own chemise. She would not allow him this final intimacy, but would accomplish it herself. The gesture stripped him to the bone. Took his breath—and even more, when the silk and lace folds slithered unhindered down her limbs to lie on the floor.

‘I had indeed forgotten. I have longed to see you. How could I possibly forget such perfection?’ He simply looked at her, could not take his eyes from her, transfixed for the moment by the magnitude of the gift she was offering him with such deliberate concentration. If she had been vulnerable before, now she was at his mercy, yet she met his gaze with her own, a challenge still in her raised head. He allowed himself the ultimate pleasure of his eyes lingering on every curve and dip of her body. Feminine with high breasts, the soft swell of hip and thigh from her slim waist, she had indeed matured into a beautiful woman from the shy débutante of the moon-shadowed summer house. Flickering light from the single candle on the nightstand illuminated and cast shadows as it would, to entrance and invite his touch. She simply stood, arms loosely by her side, and let him look his fill.

And he knew that it could not be enough. It pleased him that when he finally stretched out his hand she did not flinch from his touch or withdraw into shy embarrassment. Yet he did not touch her yet, still intent on savouring the moment to come, but removed the pins from her hair, one by one, until the lustrous glory of it cascaded into his hands and over her breasts in a shining fall. Until his own needs allowed him to hesitate no longer.

Then, stripping off his own clothes, leaving the single candle burning, he came to her. Without further thought of the sense of his actions, he lifted her high in his arms and tumbled her onto the bed. To join her there, flesh against flesh at last. ‘Why can I not rid my dreams of you? You haunt me so.’ A touch of anger here as he framed her face with his hands. ‘I feel the touch of your hands on my skin, your lips on mine—both waking and sleeping. I can’t get you out of my mind.’ He crushed his mouth to hers, holding her as he wished, angling his head to take her lips more completely.

‘I have dreamed of this moment through so many nights.’ He rolled with her, pinning her body beneath him with his weight, braceleting her wrists with strong fingers to stretch her arms above her head. Even though his dominance might underline her vulnerability to him, Eleanor accepted it with a low purr of pleasure in her throat, secure in the knowledge that he would never be capable of hurting her. Only to drive her to the sharp edge of desire—and then over into dark delight.

Tracing a burning path with his mouth, Henry claimed her from her lips to slender throat, to satin shoulder, intoxicated by the heavy pulse that throbbed beneath her skin. He could not get enough of her, nor she of him. Here were no soft moments of tender reminiscence. No gentle interludes full of earlier memories. Only an onslaught of lips and hands to touch, to caress, to excite. Her wrists released, Eleanor was free to explore the man she remembered, as he explored her, hands stroking and moulding the taut muscles of his chest and arms, the flat planes of waist and hip and thigh. Ravaged bedcovers were pushed aside, as tangled and tumultuous as their emotions. Candlelight gleamed on sweat-streaked limbs that entwined, stretched, slid and clung luxuriously one against the other.

Relentlessly, refusing to let her rest, he brought her to the peak of arousal when her body shivered under his hands regardless of the heat. And raised his head as he felt the beginning of her response. Looked into her face.

‘Look at me.’ It was a demand from which she found no retreat, as she could find no escape from the glorious heat spreading from between her thighs, flushing her skin a delicate rose. ‘Open your eyes, Eleanor. Know who owns you, who possesses you this night. You are mine. I took your innocence—now I claim you again. You will never forget me.’

‘I cannot forget you.’ Her admission was wrung from her on a sharp intake of break as his teeth closed around one taut nipple, driving her near to insanity.

‘You torment me,’ he murmured against the hollow between her breasts where he planted flesh-searing kisses. ‘But I will not suffer alone. I will make you want me tonight.’ Hands slid, held, fingers drifting over the gentle swell of her belly to search out the ultimate softness between her thighs. She arched her body on a cry at the intrusion, but in welcome. As urgent, as aroused as he. Hot and wet, she opened for him.

Oh God, he wanted her, must have her.

‘Want me, Eleanor. Tell me that you want me.’ Past and future held no meaning, only this one moment together in the flickering candle-flame. Perhaps the only moment they would ever have. A moment that should never have been theirs to claim. His conscience damned him for it, but he ruthlessly closed his mind against it, unable to see past the fierce call of his heart and body.

‘I do. I want you.’ Her reply, the rise and fall of her breasts on ragged breathing, destroyed any conscience which he might have held to. As did the immediate response of her body to his.

As she had given him her virginal innocence, now Eleanor gave him her maturity cloaked in fire and inner knowledge. Touched him, stroked him, set him ablaze with her fine but confident fingers, closed her hand around him, revelling in his groan of shock, of desire. Tomorrow was soon enough for regrets. Tonight she would relive all her hopes and dreams. She burned for him. Flames coursed through her as she enticed him, lured him, the very temptress he had called her. She had dreamed of a night such as this for so long, long nights when it had seemed such an impossibility and she had awoken with tears on her face. Now reality made it true and she would not hold back from him. Moulding herself against him, marvelling at his strength, his muscled power, his weight as he lowered his body to hers, the heat of his erection against her thigh, she laughed softly as she covered his face with kisses. Ah, yes. Henry wanted her as much as she wanted him. It was no time for maidenly blushes or shy hesitancy on her part.