When hot desire rolled through her, Eleanor whimpered. Her clitoris tingled, begging to be touched, while her ni**les pulsed wantonly against his palms. He spun her around, so she landed flat on the bed, and he rested his hips between her spread legs. His fingers tangled in her hair, he leaned in and whispered, “You torture me with your beauty. I fear I will lose all control and shame myself in front of you.”
She had no idea what he meant by those words, but Lord, she liked the sound of it. Leaning up on her elbows, she kissed him, thrusting her tongue in his mouth in a bold move she hoped would incite him even more. He growled, fumbling with her skirt to throw it up over her hips as he sought out her heat.
When he pressed a thumb to her aching core, a place no one besides herself had dared to touch before, she froze. After the shock wore off, pleasure took its place, making her tremble. Her muscles tensed in a delightful reaction to his soft caresses. The few times she’d awoken from a dream of him kissing her, her hand pressed against herself, had felt nothing like this. Nothing compared to this.
He plunged a finger inside her and she cried out, raising her hips to get closer to him. Briefly, she worried that he would somehow know she wasn’t experienced—or would stop. But whatever he did to her took away all conscious thought, and she feared it might kill her. Could she survive this type of pleasure much longer?
He groaned and surged into her again, this time harder. “You’re wet for me, Eleanor. I need you now.”
She nodded and he leapt off of her to undress. Though she didn’t know much about making love, she knew he needed to be naked to finish the task. She should unclothe herself as well. If his touch had felt so delicious, his manhood promised to be ten times better. As he wrestled out of his clothing, she sat upright and crawled across the bed to the nightstand.
“Wait! We need to use, uh….” Eleanor fought to remember the word Madame had given the item she was supposed to use to prevent pregnancy. “A…condom!”
She grabbed it off the nightstand and gave it to him. He ripped it open, and she watched in fascination when he held it in front of his member. He fumbled a little bit until it rolled on, from the tip to the base. She could see his skin through the condom and gulped in air, feeling as if there weren’t enough in the world for her to ever feel normal again.
The hugeness of his shaft sent a quiver to her middle, intermingling with fear. Would all of that fit?
Scooting away from him on the bed, she swallowed hard. “Maybe we should slow down a bit. Take it easy.”
Cocking his head, he sat down next to her and brushed a finger down her cheek. Smiling tenderly, he said, “We can go as slow as you’d like. I will take my time, I promise.” He brushed his lips against hers once. Twice. Teasing her into leaning closer to him. Into wanting more.
The feverish desire he had awoken in her before returned full force, and she moved closer, eager to feel his skin brush hers again. Tracing the contours of his chest, she marveled at the play of muscle and hair. So crisp and hard, yet at the same time silky smooth.
After a moment’s indecision, she caressed his abdomen. His abs jumped under her light touch, and she exulted at the power she had over him.
His kisses distracted her while he removed first her skirt, and then her underthings. When his lips closed around her nipple, she writhed against the cool sheets. Or maybe they only felt cold because she was on fire—burning for him.
His hand returned to massage the sensitive bud at the core of her womanhood. Urgency overtook her, one she didn’t understand, and her hips moved in a search for something that could soothe the hunger coursing over her.
She needed…something.
She needed to figure out what that something was. Now.
“Please, Thomas,” she begged.
She had no clue what she asked for, but hoped to God he’d know. He shifted his weight so something probed her, and she lifted her hips in excitement. Maybe this is what she wanted.
Groaning, he thrust into her, and instead of the pleasure she’d been anticipating, pain rocked her. She cried out, caught by surprise at the unexpected discomfort, and he froze in horror.
“Bloody hell, you’re a virgin?” Eyes wide, he started to withdraw from her, but she closed her legs around his waist.
“Don’t,” she cried. “Don’t leave me. I want…I need….” She tilted her hips and groaned at the pleasure her movement made.
“Jesus.” He clenched his jaw as he moved in unison with her. Her legs tightened around him, and she shifted again to see if the pleasure continued. If anything, it grew stronger.
More insistent.
Thomas plunged into her, and they began a rhythmic give and take of their bodies, making pressure build. It grew so strong she feared it would rip her apart. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second of the exquisite torture, something inside of her snapped, and pleasure spread over her body.
She collapsed into the mattress, and he pushed into her harder. Throwing his head back, his muscles tightened and he cried, “Eleanor!”
When he threw his head back, she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips and drew him in deeper, marveling at the sensation of his pulsing climax. He dropped to her side, dragging her with him so she lay within the crook of his arm. They didn’t speak, as they caught their breath. He didn’t release his hold on her until she traced a design on his chest. He grabbed her fingers and held them still, meeting her eyes with a frown.
“Why? Why did you give me your innocence?” He dragged a hand down his face and let out a growl. “That’s something you should have given your husband. Not a stranger. Not me.”
She forced a laugh. “You sound a bit old-fashioned, don’t you agree?”
He tensed, and she couldn’t help but smirk at her quick thinking. If she didn’t know better, even she would believe that she came from this new, modern world. The new world where sex was traded freely without guilt.
She sat up and stared at a picture on the wall, an oil painting of a mother and her child. “Nowadays, a woman doesn’t reach my age without taking a lover or two.”
“Then why haven’t you?” He sat up as well and grabbed his shirt to thrust it at her. “Put this on.”
Confused at his behavior, Eleanor pulled it over her head, shoving her arms through the sleeves. She looked down at the shirt, fighting back a laugh. The garment was far too large on her and covered more of her skin than her previous outfit had.
“I kept waiting for the right man to fancy me.” You. “But he…loved another. No one else caught my attention, and I got to a point where no one even noticed me any longer. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and enjoy a night of fun. Why should I hang onto a senseless symbol of purity if I’ll never even have a chance to marry?”