He hissed something unintelligible and dropped his forehead against hers.
“I will call upon your brother tomorrow and—”
Desperate to halt his words, she captured his mouth and swallowed his confession of feelings that already lingered in her heart. Ellie cried out against his mouth when he swept her up in his arms and within two strides tumbled them to the lone sofa in the room so that she sat atop his body, her knees bracketing his hips.
The position was scandalous!
“Lucien,” she whispered, “this is madness.”
“Not just any kind of madness, the sweetest kind.”
He held her nape with one hand, once more urging her lips to his. While his tongue explored the recesses of her mouth, driving Ellie to distraction with mounting pleasure, his other hand explored her breasts. She whimpered, arching to the fingers that slipped beneath the decolletage of her neckline, encouraging his touch. Those supple fingers pinched and soothed, aroused, and shocked. The sensation was startling, exquisite. Her nipples drew to tight beads, and dampness gathered between her thighs.
Somehow that wicked hand travelled down, until he dragged her dress up to her thighs, toying with the edges of her garters at her knees. His fingers left a trail of fire as they seductively travelled up to where the dampness had gathered.
Ellie wrenched her mouth from his when he parted her drawers and glided that finger through her alarming wetness. Unable to bear the sensations, she bit into his shoulder and moaned, deep and lustily.
“That’s it, my sweet,” he groaned at her ear. “How soft and wet you are.”
A lone finger slipped deep inside her body. The pleasure was so acute, so intense, and she arched into his touch as the tight knot of pressure mounted to an unbearable degree. “Lucien!” she sobbed, jerking her hips.
The move sent his finger deeper, and she clutched his shoulders and lowered her forehead to his.
“Kiss me, Elle.”
Threading her fingers through his hair, she gripped several silky strands tightly and tugged back his head. Then she mashed their mouths together in an open-mouth and deliciously carnal kiss. He mimicked the thrusting motions of their tongues with his fingers until she was almost mad with need. There was more and she wanted it. Ellie chased the pleasure, rolling her hips against his fingers, seeking and searching.
Lucien used his thumb to circle her bud of pleasure and she went flying, breaking apart into a thousand pieces while she flew. Before she could even make any sort of sense from the wonderful pleasure, he spun with her, so she was splayed on the sofa, her knees positioned wide as he dipped between her legs so that her ballgown shimmered over his head. For a moment she did not understand his intention, but she was mortified that his head was underneath her ballgown and he was clearly staring at herthere. Thank heavens for the semi-darkness of the room.
Then he bit the inside of her inner thigh. The sting was erotic. “Lucien,” she gasped.
He continued his journey of small nips and kiss until he was right at her sex. Ellie dropped back against the sofa, the breath leaving her body as pleasure unlike any she had ever felt seized her. Lucien licked her again and again, his tongue curling over her nub of pleasure, and sucking. Ellie turned her head on the cushions of the sofa, desperate to be quiet. The pleasure that flayed her skin and drew it tight was agonizing.
She arched into his mouth, growing desperate for more. He chose that moment to push two fingers into her sheath. Ellie wailed and convulsed as the pleasure stormed through her body. Suddenly he pulled from her and was beside her on the sofa, drawing her against his body and holding her. It was then she realized he? was still trembling fiercely. “You are shaking, Lucien.”
“I thought that was you,” he said gruffly.
“You are also very tense.” It occurred to her he’d not achieved a similar release like her. “Your body is aching.”
“Hmm.”
Now that she had a moment to think, her rational brain was too scandalized to contemplate doing for him what he just did to her; that would be far too wicked. “I am sorry that I cannot assist you in relieving your tension.”
“It is fine; just let me hold you. That is enough.”
His fingers grazed the soft exposed skin of her inner elbow, and sensation rippled down Eleanor’s arm. It was a touch meant to soothe…to tease and perhaps reassure. The rain drummed insistently on the windowpane, and she stared out into the night for several beats, liking and also hating the silence between them. If he had not stopped, they would now be making love with each other. That awareness settled deep inside her bones. She would have given herself to him without the benefit of marriage. Even thinking it now did not fill her with panic as it ought to, and it was for that reason she stirred, shifting away from the wonderful heat of his body.
“I should leave,” she said softly. “My presence will be missed. My grandaunt will most certainly send someone to search for me.”
“Look at me, Elle.”
She kept her gaze on the windowpane and the rain. “I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am afraid.”
His entire body tensed. “Afraid of what? Me?”