Images of Suzanne played across his mind—of them laughing in their gardens, of her face as he plunged inside her. Why did Eleanor have to mention her? Did she know how torturous it was to picture his dead wife in the same line of thought as the woman he now sought to crawl into bed with?
Could he follow through with his rash decision to make love to someone besides her?
Could he afford not to?
Straightening his spine, he pulled her into his arms. Her bosom pressed into his chest, making him ache for more. Her light periwinkle eyes widened when he pressed her body more closely to his. He looked within their depths, and his heart melted. “I’m ready. With you…I’m ready.”
Eleanor blinked. “Why me?”
“Because you make me long to feel something again. You make me ache for something I thought I could no longer desire.” He opened his mouth and closed it, trying to find the perfect words. Tried to find a way to tell her how much it meant to him that she made him want to move on. “If anything, I need you too much. All my doubts fade away when I see you.”
“Thomas,” she whispered, licking her lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve waited to hear you say that. For so long.”
Something was off with her words, something that didn’t quite add up, but he wasn’t going to waste time with thought. Right now, he needed her so bad it hurt. “I’m all yours.”
She smiled and grabbed his shirt. “Then come get me.”
Groaning, he crushed his lips to hers…and time stood still.
Chapter Two
Eleanor’s world as she knew it froze, and all that existed was here and now. His hands on her. His tongue brushing against hers. Nothing else mattered. She seized the fabric of Thomas’s shirt and whimpered. While his tongue plundered, her knees gave out. At her sound of distress, he swept her into his arms. He never broke contact with her lips as he carried her into the bedroom.
Setting her down on the bed, he tore his mouth from hers. Their raspy breathing filled the room, and he cupped her cheeks. She touched his lower lip with her pointer finger and then pressed it to her mouth.
“Is it always this amazing?” she asked, without thinking. His brow wrinkled, and she almost groaned. Always a gentleman, he’d refuse to deflower her if he suspected she was untouched, so she grinned and gave a brazen laugh. Reaching up, she toyed with his hair—much like he had done with hers. “I mean, most men can’t even make me tempted, yet alone shaky. You’re good at this.”
He growled and pressed his erection against her belly. “I’ve been having the same issue with women. Since my wife died, I’ve found myself unable to desire another. Until now. Until you,” he murmured into her ear, nibbling on the sensitive spot behind her lobe.
She shivered and pulled him closer. His chest pressed into hers, and her ni**les throbbed at his delicious weight. She wriggled in his arms, experimenting with the new sensations. Desire shot to her core, and she repeated the movement. Mmm. Even better the second time.
“If you don’t stop that, it’ll be over before I even get to have you,” he muttered, his jaw tight. He held her hips still while he placed kisses down the side of her neck and over the swell of her bosom. “It might be over too fast even if you behave.”
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Eleanor murmured. Little did he know that she’d been waiting her entire life to hear those words. If he did know, he would probably laugh in her face. Unsettled by the reality of her pathetic life, she tilted her chin up to him. “Would you please kiss me again?”
“As you wish, my lady.” Thomas took her mouth under his, swallowing her gasp at the slip of his tongue. Every time he called her by her title, she feared he knew her secret. But judging from the passionate kisses, she remained safe.
His tongue caressed hers and she squirmed beneath him, an itchy restlessness overcoming her. She moved her tongue, and he moaned as he stroked hers in return. His palm cupped her breast, and she arched her back as fire consumed her. He rolled the tip of her breast between his thumb and forefinger, playing with the nipple through the odd apparatus she wore called a “bra,” and she raised a leg, eager to feel him scoot closer. When he moved between her open legs, his member pressing against the juncture of her thighs, she dug her nails into his skin.
The small noise he made spurred her on even more, and she ran her hands down his sides to his stomach. When he kissed a path down her neck to the top of her br**sts, her heart skittered to a stop, and then raced as he explored every inch of her.
He traced an invisible path from her left breast, down the jut of her hip then grasped her bu**ocks, melding their bodies tight together. While he rolled his hips, he latched his mouth on her nipple. She pulled his hair in a silent plea for him to desist. If he made her explode from want without removing a single article of clothing, she couldn’t even imagine the amazing need he would awake in her when she was naked
He raised his face to hers, sitting on his haunches. His gaze dropped to her sprawled legs and the short skirt, which hid nothing from his view. He reached for her again, and she halted him by shaking her head.
He clenched jaw. “Is something wrong?”
Overtaken by a boldness she had no idea she possessed, she kneeled in front of him and clutched the hem of his shirt. “Yes,” she managed to say. “You have too many clothes on.”
She pulled his shirt up his body, inch by slow inch, and he raised his arms in silent compliance, his hot stare not leaving hers until she lifted it over his head. She licked her lower lip at the heat she saw burning within him. Could he possibly be aching to have her? To move inside of her? If so, then….
She’d made him that way.
Nothing could have turned her on more. Thomas gripped her shirt and removed it as she had done to him, and she fought the urge to cover her br**sts. He blinked at the contraption she wore and traced his fingers over the line of the garment, his touch feather light. Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, he turned her around.
Accepting his gentle guidance, she peeked over her shoulder as his attention fell onto the clasp. He hesitated an inch from the fastener, his mouth tight, but then reached forward to release her br**sts. The garment fell off her shoulders, and she let it hit the bed.
She closed her lids, fighting for the composure to not collapse to the floor. When he stroked her breast, her already weak knees threatened to give way. His bare chest touched her, his chest hair tickling her naked skin as he reached around her. He closed his palms over her br**sts, which fit into his hands, and she leaned against him to allow him better access. He traced circles around both her ni**les while at the same time nipping the base of her neck.