A Little Bit Sinful (19 page)

“Are you enjoying the party, Sebastian?” she asked breathlessly.

“I am now, Eleanor.”

Cradling her head, he leaned down and captured
her mouth in a kiss that drove any doubts from her mind.

His lips were warm and firm. She parted her own and he slipped his tongue in to teasingly stroke hers. Sighing deeply, Eleanor returned the kiss passionately, one hand going around his neck, her fingers curling through the soft hair at the nape.

He clutched her closer, making a guttural sound in his throat, groaning into the kiss. The taste and texture of him filled every sense and all she was conscious of was him. The feel of his hard, strong body pressing so intimately against hers, the clean, heady taste of his tongue and mouth, the intoxicating scent of cologne mixed with his own unique masculine scent.

She had come here tonight for these kisses. For the chance to ease her loneliness, her sense of isolation. For the chance to allow herself to
feel
so intensely, to
want
so desperately. Her growing regard for him was unexpected, as was her growing affection. Was that what made his kisses so overwhelming? Or had she simply been denied physical male affection for too long?

She closed her eyes and held back a moan. She had a wicked urge to thrust herself forward, too excited to be cautious, too swept up in the pleasure to think beyond the joy of his embrace. Sebastian broke the kiss, then rested his forehead against hers. Their warm breaths mingled, a strangely intimate occurrence. He shifted slightly, flicking his tongue against her earlobe. Pleasure rippled through her.

“Oh, Sebastian,” she whispered against his mouth. “You make me feel so …”

“Yes,” he prompted.

“Alive,” she cried.

Lifting her chin, she sought his lips once again. He murmured her name, then delved inside her mouth, stroking her with his tongue. She clung to him, surrendering as he kissed her with undeniable passion and need.

His muscular thighs trapped her in place. Eleanor moved her hips reflexively, feeling the heat of his body even through the barrier of their clothes, becoming conscious of his erection pressing against the juncture of her thighs.

“I have never enjoyed kissing much,” he whispered. “Until now.”

His lips traced the shell of her ear slowly. Eleanor shivered, turning her head and invitingly offering her bare neck. He swooped down, pressing a line of warm, moist kisses from her throat to her shoulders. With tongue and teeth he continued to kiss her bare flesh, while his fingers took the lead, working their way inside the top of her bodice.

Eleanor’s breaths grew deeper, her breasts rising and falling so rapidly she wondered if they would pop right out of her dress. Somehow the gown remained intact, but that did not deter the viscount. His hand moved deeper into her bodice until he cupped her breast. Sebastian brushed his thumb over her throbbing nipple, then gently rolled it between two fingers. Passion spiraled through her and the dampness between her thighs grew.

“Ahh,” she moaned, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

“Does it feel good, my sweet?” he rasped. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” she whispered, stunned at the sound of her breathy, anxious voice. Eleanor didn’t know who that woman was, could barely believe she possessed such wanton abandon.

Her eyelids fell closed as he pulled the material of her bodice down, exposing her top half completely. The cool air caressed her heated breasts. It was insane. Reckless. Glorious.

Her breasts felt full, her loins throbbed. He nuzzled her nipples, his warm breath teasing. Moaning, Eleanor arched up against him, seeking release, fulfillment, knowing only he could give her what she craved most, needed most.

“You are so delicate,” he whispered, an edge of awe in his voice. “So very lovely.”

“Sebastian, please,” she cried, running her hands over his chest.

“This,” he whispered. “Is it this?”

He dragged his tongue roughly over her stiffened nipple. She cried out, a sob of passion, arching her back. She felt as if she were on fire. Lost to these maddening sensations, she was only vaguely aware of his hand reaching beneath her skirt.

His hand glided up her legs, weaving a path to her inner thigh until he reached soft curls. His fingers nestled there, rubbing lightly. Pure, strong pleasure shot through her. Eleanor could hear her breath coming in small, soft pants as she lifted her hips against his hand, seeking relief from the intense, demanding tension that was building inside her.

“Oh, Sebastian, I need, I want,” she panted.

“Shh, I know. Let yourself go, Eleanor,” he said in a throaty voice. “Come for me.”

He angled her over his arm, lifting her closer, taking her nipple deep into his mouth. Eleanor whimpered, moving her legs restlessly. He suckled her breast as he fondled her, increasing the sensations to an irresistible urgency.

She could feel her body getting slicker, hotter as he stroked her, coaxing her flesh to quivering heights. The tension built and built until she thought she would go mad. Reading her body with acute accuracy, Sebastian pressed the palm of his hand flat against her core, then nudged two fingers inside her.

Eleanor could not keep still. There were no words to describe the feeling. Her body moved spasmodically as she jerked and wiggled beneath his touch. He seized her mouth in a fierce, heady kiss and she gave herself over to the mindless pleasure, wanting it to last forever.

But her passion was too overwhelming to be contained. A few more deft strokes of his clever fingers sent Eleanor quaking as the tension broke. Her body felt as if it were coming apart, exploding in a burst of intense pleasure.

A deep, keening cry filled the air. Hers? His? Dazed and drifting, she allowed her legs to buckle, trusting Sebastian to keep her upright, tightly held within his protective arms.

Gasping and straining, Sebastian tore his mouth from Eleanor’s. He reached down, fumbling with the fall of his evening breeches. His erection was straining against the fabric so hard ‘twas a miracle the buttons didn’t break. He pressed her back against the brocade sofa that was but a foot away,
following her down onto the couch, leaning on his left side so as not to crush her.

He could still feel Eleanor trembling, the aftershocks of her climax causing a few remaining spasms. It gave him no small measure of pride knowing he had given her such pleasure, had brought her to complete release, arousing his own passion significantly.

Sebastian hadn’t come here tonight with the intention of taking Eleanor’s seduction this far. He had just wanted to give her a taste, to pique her curiosity, to pull her deeper into his sensual web.

Yet he acknowledged that he was the one who had been caught. His desire raged within him, out of control. He was uncertain if she was a virgin. She had mentioned loving an unsuitable man when she was younger and it was clear she was not inexperienced. Yet there was such an honest element to her passion, a giving nature that bespoke of a limited knowledge.

Virgin or not, it hardly mattered. He reached for her arms and lifted them over her head. The movement caused her back to arch, exposing her naked breasts to his gaze. They were full and round, the dusky nipples peaked, ready and ripe for more kisses.

As he set his hand between her breasts, he could feel the beat of her heart beneath his palm. The dim, flickering blaze from the fireplace provided a small amount of illumination, bathing her in a shadowy light. Her eyes were closed, her face enraptured.

He wasn’t certain why he found her so irresistible. True, it had been several months since he had
engaged in carnal relations, but he had been deprived of robust sex for longer periods. She wasn’t anything like the women he usually became involved with—perhaps that difference was what gave her such appeal?

As he bent to kiss her throat, an unexpectedly loud sound came from the other side of the room, near the doorway. Breaking away from Eleanor, Sebastian turned to investigate.

“Bloody hell!” he cursed, springing to his feet. With swiftness that astonished him, Sebastian fastened the top buttons of his breeches. Whirling around, he instinctively thrust Eleanor behind him, effectively hiding her from curious eyes.

“Is that you, Benton?” a slurred male voice asked. “I say, what do you have there, you sly dog? A tasty morsel, no doubt.”

Sebastian’s anger flared. How dare a worm like Arthur Peterson refer to a woman like Eleanor as a tasty morsel? Sebastian’s fingers curled together in a tight fist and he envisioned himself planting that fist in the middle of the intruder’s florid, laughing face.

“You are being unpardonably rude, Peterson,” Sebastian declared in a low, threatening tone. “I demand that you leave at once.”

“Without saying good evening to your companion? Now
that
would be rude.”

The simmering anger surged like a firestorm inside Sebastian. “Be warned. If you take one step forward, I shall be forced to curve my hands around your neck and throttle you until you turn blue.”

Behind him, Eleanor let out a small squeak. He
thrust his hand back to silence her. She grasped onto his arm, held tightly, then quieted.

Peterson’s jovial expression turned wary. “No need to get yourself so riled, Benton. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Your fun is over. Now, get out,” Sebastian growled, a murderous scowl knitting his brow.

Licking his lips nervously, Peterson started slowly backing toward the doorway, never once taking his eyes off Sebastian.

“Oh, and Peterson, if I start hearing vicious rumors about me, I will know the source. And I will be violently displeased. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a momentary flare of annoyance in Peterson’s face, but then his expression changed. He nodded contritely, then followed Sebastian’s dictate and hurried from the room, clicking the door loudly as he closed it.

“Do you think he saw me?” Eleanor’s voice was soft, shaken.

Sebastian shrugged. His body was still taut with arousal, his blood fired with anger. Peterson’s arrival could not have been more ill-timed, yet it unexpectedly provided Sebastian with the perfect opportunity. If she had been discovered, Eleanor would have been ruined. Utterly and completely.

The earl would have been outraged. He would have demanded that Sebastian do right by his eldest daughter, since marriage was the only way to redeem Eleanor’s honor. And Sebastian would have refused, thus forcing the earl to defend his family name by the only other means available—a duel.

This had been Sebastian’s plan from the beginning. Hell, it still was his plan. He truly had no idea
why he had gone to such lengths to protect her just now. Was it because it was Arthur Peterson who had discovered them? A man with little to recommend him, a man who skirted the edge of polite society, existing on slander and gossip. Or was it something else?

Sebastian turned to look at Eleanor. She had pulled the bodice of her dress over the bare flesh of her breasts and was attempting to set her gown back in place. Shadows flickered over the soft curves of her body and face. Their eyes met.

Hers were luminous, yet somehow he knew not to expect hysterics or tears. Eleanor had more dignity, more strength of character. She would not collapse into a quivering heap of weeping.

“Is this a wager?” she whispered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I asked if you have made a wager.” She cleared her throat. “I know that sort of thing occurs among gentlemen. For amusement, I suspect, though I find nothing entertaining about it.”

Sebastian felt his jaw drop. He had not expected an emotional collapse, but this accusation was a surprise. “You don’t have a very high opinion of men, do you?”

Eleanor sighed. “I have a realistic view of men, whose faults equal those of women. Each can be cruel in their own way. The betting book wagers prevalent in gentlemen’s clubs are notorious. Humiliating for the victims as their names are bandied about by the gentlemen of the
ton,
and assumptions are drawn about their character.”

She said “gentlemen” very pointedly and he embarrassingly admitted she was right. Congregating
men could act like perfect asses at times, he among them. “There is no wager, Eleanor. It distresses me that you would even speculate on the existence of one.”

She sighed again and lifted her chin. It seemed to require an effort for her to hold his gaze. “A wager was as good an explanation as any when trying to understand your interest in me.”

“I happen to like you. Very much.” His stomach roiled with guilt, though he wasn’t lying. He did like her, more than he realized, more than he should. Yet she must remain a means to an end or else his revenge would go unresolved. “Is it so impossible to believe I find you attractive?”

“Why me?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t tease, Sebastian. I want to know. I need to know.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You are prickly and difficult, intelligent and loyal, and your kisses make me feel like a randy lad with his first love. Satisfied?”

She smiled and nodded her head. Sebastian slowly exhaled, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“I like you too, Sebastian. I find your seductive charms quite irresistible.”

“Ah, yes, seductive charms are the mark of any practiced rake worth his salt.”

“You are worth far more than salt, sir,” she said, a smile working across her mouth. Then abruptly her expression changed to serious regard. “I need to return to the ballroom. Your threat was most impressive, yet I worry how long Mr. Peterson will be able to hold his tongue. Finding you in such a compromising
position is far too juicy a tidbit to keep silent. I vow he will reveal
something
to
someone
before the night has ended.”

Sebastian grimaced. “I fear you are right. But you can’t leave yet. Naturally we cannot be seen together, but Peterson’s beady little eyes will be searching avidly for any unescorted females entering the ballroom, assuming one of those women was in here with me.”

“Lord, I hadn’t considered it.” Her eyes grew worried. “What am I to do?”