To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) (22 page)

“I mean it.” She gripped his hands tightly. “I need to forget him. To know passion, even if once. That moment in the garden didn’t satisfy me, it only made me want you even more… completely.”

He was silent.

“James, will you?” She pressed his hands to her heart. “Will you show me passion? Will you erase the memories of my past?”

He didn’t respond, merely drew her forward and crushed his mouth to hers. She opened for him, and he took full advantage, his tongue sweeping over hers in a devastating kiss that left her weak and light-headed. All worries were gone. Any despair vanished.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he mumbled against her mouth.

As had she, every night since meeting him. Eleanor moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and finding comfort in the strength and vitality of his body. When he scooped her up and carried her toward the bed, she didn’t utter a word of protest. Her slippers fell from her feet, and she knew her clothing was soon to follow. There was no one else in the world. Nothing else mattered.

He laid her gently upon the soft coverlet, then stepped back. Slowly, so very slowly, his long fingers moved down the buttons of his waistcoat. It was a seductive show, but she wondered if he was giving her time to change her mind. He untied his cravat and tossed it to the chair.

Over the years she’d become quite adept at shutting down her mind while her husband rutted her like an animal. She’d sunk into a numb state of nothingness that had allowed their mating to
be bearable. But with James she felt alive. With James she didn’t want to be numb. She wanted to feel every touch, every kiss. When his shirt came off, her heart thumped so madly she thought it would break free. Nerves, desire… she wasn’t sure which to focus on.

He paused, his hands at the waistband of his trousers, the only thing he still wore. “What is it, Ellie?”

“Nothing.” She swallowed and looked at the ceiling. She’d thought her husband handsome, but James put Lord Beckett to shame. His body was all muscle and hard planes. Not an ounce of fat marred his perfect form. Eleanor took in a deep, trembling breath. She needed a moment, merely a moment to regain control of her nerves. She could do this… she
would
do this. She jumped as James settled on the edge of the bed.

“Ellie,” James said softly. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

She nodded, humiliated when tears stung her eyes. Blast it, she wouldn’t cry in front of him. She never cried and she wasn’t about to start now. Furious with herself, she swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

“But… you’re nervous?”

She nodded again. He was so damn gentle. She felt like a bloody innocent, a debutante. She hated not having control of her own feelings. She might not have any say in her life, but she sure as hell had always been able to control how she reacted to it. Until now…

James was silent for a long moment, those kind green eyes watching her, seeing so very much that she didn’t want him to see. Not even with her husband had she been this vulnerable. She shivered, crossing arms over her chest.

“If… if,” she stuttered, an impediment that she had had as a child and thought she’d conquered. “If I don’t go through with this, I fear I will die inside. I’m already half there, James.”

“All right.” He reached toward the chair near the bed where he had divested himself of his clothing and picked up his cravat.
She didn’t understand his intentions until he lifted his hand, the material dangling from his fingertips. “Tie me.”

His words utterly shocked her, and she’d thought she was beyond surprise. “Wh… what?”

“Tie my hands to the headboard.”

The command was sinful; then again, she was at a brothel, so what had she expected? She stared at the cravat hanging from his fingers… tempting her. Lord Beckett had bound her up once, merely another way from him to control her. It had not only been humiliating, but terrifying. Although the idea sent a wicked thrill through her body, she would not humiliate James.

“No.” She shoved her hands into the bed and sat up, struggling with her blue-and-ivory skirts. She was drowning in a mound of material, and her corset was so tight she could barely breathe.

“I mean it.” He lay down, stretching out beside her, vulnerable, comfortable, trusting. A wave of hair had fallen over his forehead, his green eyes like soft moss. He looked very much like an elegant gent, waiting for his love. A weight of emotion settled heavily against her chest. She felt humbled, and at the same time she was terrified. She wanted no person’s life in her hands. She jumped from the bed, only to grip the post when her legs nearly gave out.

“I won’t let you do this to yourself,” she whispered, clinging to the bedpost.

“Ellie,” he whispered, “I trust you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

He quirked a light brown brow. “Will you abuse me?”

“Of course not.”

“I trust you, Ellie.” There was no merriment in his gaze, no mocking laughter. He was utterly serious. “Tie my arms, and you’ll be in complete control. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

She took her lower lip between her teeth, confused. “You’re serious?”

“Quite.”

She’d been abused and humiliated by her husband. Yet in this small space with James she felt more vulnerable than she ever had before, and she didn’t understand why. All she knew was that she couldn’t leave here without knowing the truth, and when he kissed her, when he touched her, she knew. She understood. Everything made sense.

She swallowed hard and reached for the tie. “Very well.”

He lifted his arms, his biceps flexing as he rested upon the pillow. James was all sinewy muscle, in much better shape than her husband, and seeing his bared chest didn’t exactly put her at ease. He could so easily overpower her if he wished.

Even as fear and uncertainty ate at her nerves, she couldn’t deny that pulse that throbbed low between her thighs. That pulse he’d awakened in the garden only a week ago. Their gazes clashed and held. Slowly, she approached him, as if he was a wild cat she feared would attack just when she’d dropped her guard. At the bed she paused, uncertain.

“Straddle me,” he said softly. “Come here, and straddle me.”

She placed his cravat between her teeth, then reached around, found the clasp upon her skirt, and undid it. The material fell down around her hips. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his green eyes seemed to darken. She stepped out of her skirts while undoing the buttons of her bodice, ignoring the tremble of her hands. She was putting her trust in a whore. The insanity of her decision was not lost on her. But she’d married a lord and look how well that had turned out. Obviously the station of one’s life did not determine his trustworthiness.

She shrugged her bodice off and tossed it to the chair where his clothing lay. For this moment, this hour, she was free. Her husband had no idea where she was; no one did. Wearing only her shift, stockings, and corset, she crawled onto the bed, her knees sinking into the downy softness. James did not flinch, he did not stiffen at her approach, but she didn’t miss the rapid beat of that pulse in the side of his neck.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.

She flushed at his compliment. She’d heard it too often for the words to mean anything, yet coming from James she couldn’t ignore the tremor of appreciation. Not bothering to respond, she lifted her shift just enough so she could straddle his lean hips. Her inner thighs pressed to his, and even through her stockings and his trousers, she could feel the heat of his skin.

“You will have to get used to my compliments,” he warned.

She grasped his wrists, growing annoyed. She didn’t like compliments, and she knew she would most likely never see James again, so his comment was pointless. “My husband told me often how beautiful I was when he was courting me. The word has lost its meaning.”

She leaned forward, realizing only too late that she was placing her bosom near his face. It must be done, and she would not react like a naïve virgin. With trembling hands she tied his wrists to the spindles of the headboard. He pulled, testing the bonds. But seeing him tied only made her panic. The urge to flee overwhelmed her, and she jumped away, stumbling from the bed. He did not look worried by her sudden departure; he didn’t seem concerned.

“You aren’t going to leave me here, are you?” He gave her a gentle smile. “It would be quite humiliating.”

As she stood there she realized with some surprise how very much he trusted her. “No. Of course not.”

“If you do not like compliments about your beauty, I will think of others.”

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. She felt cold, unsure, confused. “Such as?”

He titled his head, resting it against his biceps. “Such as how much I admire your strength.”

She flushed, looking away. It was worse than hearing about her beauty. If she’d been strong, she would have broken her engagement when she’d realized something was a little strange
about her husband. If she was strong she would find a way to leave him even now.

“I admire your desire to help others.”

She sighed. She’d helped no one but herself. She hadn’t even fought for her lady’s maid when her husband had fired her years ago. Knitting scarves for orphans from the safety of her parlor was hardly saintly.

“Most of all I admire your ability to thrive under extreme circumstances. You would do the queen proud.”

“I am related to the queen’s second cousin,” she blurted out.

He did not react to her. “Undress, Ellie.”

His face was serious, so utterly serious. Damn it all, she was tired of feeling sorry for herself. Her hands trembled as she undid the clasps holding her corset together. If she was in charge, completely and utterly, why did her entire world seem off-balance? She tossed her corset to the chair and drew in her first full breath since dressing that morn. Besides her husband, no male had ever seen her in her underclothing.

“Your shift,” James said, his fingers wrapping tightly around the binding that held his arms in place. It was then that she realized he was attempting, very hard, to control himself. He wanted her, desperately, passionately. Only then did she allow her gaze to travel down his muscled chest, following that narrow trail of hair down his flat belly and to the very area where no woman dare look. His erection pressed hard and long against his trousers. The sight of his cock made her mouth go dry.

He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Ellie grew warm, a heated flush of desire pumping through her veins. He could not touch her, but dear God, she wanted to touch him. Her body thrummed with need, her heart with desire.

“Good God, you’re beautiful,” she said, the same thing he had said to her only moments ago. She meant it. He was stunning. Magnificent. And it terrified her. The attraction between them
was unmistakable, palpable. And she knew if they consummated their relationship, she would only grow fonder of the man.

The entire time his gaze was on her face. He did not flirt with her, he did not leer at her as most men would have. No, he merely looked at her with affection, with need and desire. “I will not do or say a thing you don’t want. You’re in charge.”

And she believed him. Hell, she completely and utterly trusted him. Slowly, she climbed atop the bed and straddled his hips once more. With trembling fingers she reached for the hem of her shift and drew the material over her head, tossing it to the ground.

James sucked in a sharp breath but did not say a word. His attention dropped to her ivory breasts, trailed down her flat stomach, and landed at the nest of blonde curls shading her femininity. And Eleanor let him look. Let him take in his fill, knowing he could not touch her even if he desperately wanted to.

With tentative fingers she reached out and drew her hand down his torso, through the thin line of crisp hair that trailed toward the waistband of his trousers. His stomach muscles jumped, his thighs grew harder, and his eyes closed in pure wonder.

At the waistband of his trousers, she paused. “I’m going to take off the rest of your clothing now, James, and you’re going to let me.”

He didn’t respond, merely clenched his jaw so tight that she could hear his teeth grind. His entire body was tensed and coiled, every muscle straining against his skin. He wanted her terribly, but he trusted her to set the rules. Eleanor smiled a relieved grin. Perhaps, just maybe, she could enjoy lovemaking after all.

James was rather sure he was going to die of want. He could not take his eyes off Eleanor as she fumbled with the buttons of his trousers. He even found her lack of experience a heavy aphrodisiac. When the buttons popped open and his cock sprang free from
the tight confines, he almost cried out in relief. Ellie stared at his erection in utter fascination. He wasn’t sure if she was confused, surprised, or nervous; he only wished she would touch him. His fingers flexed, tightening around his bindings as he resisted the urge to break free and touch her. Completely and utterly at her mercy, there was nothing more painful, nor more intoxicating.

“You’re much larger than my husband,” she whispered.

He would have laughed if he hadn’t noted the fear in her voice. “A woman’s body is very accommodating if prepared.”