Chapter Twenty-Five #2
His hair was tousled and his lips curved in a gentle smile. Though his features were far more relaxed than she’d ever seen them, his eyes still pierced with unsettling intensity.
Eleanor didn’t realize she’d been smoothing her fingers up and down his back until she stopped. She briefly considered looking away or shielding her thoughts from his stare. But she decided not to.
As he took her face between his large, gentle hands and brushed his thumbs lightly back and forth over the crest of her cheeks, she gazed into his eyes and released a breath.
“Are you alright, princess?”
His question was a gravely whisper.
Eleanor nodded. “You?”
He chuckled warmly. “I don’t believe I’ve ever felt better.”
Insecurity invaded with a sweeping chill. Tensing, she lifted her chin. “You don’t need to say that.”
He stilled and a furrow dipped the center of his brows. “I say it because it’s true.”
Eleanor wanted to believe him. Wanted to think she might be special somehow. But…she knew she wasn’t. She’d proven herself inadequate so many times.
Attempting a lighter, more casual tone, she replied, “No doubt, in your many travels, you’ve had a wealth of…such experiences. Pleasures I couldn’t even begin to imagine. I’m certain this can hardly compare.”
“Don’t.” His voice was surprisingly stern as he took her face more firmly in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. “Don’t minimize what this is. Or who you are.”
But her insecurities had taken over. “Who am I? Daughter of a rich and powerful lord. Granddaughter to another. Sister to yet another. None of those say who I am.”
“You’re right,” he said in a low, earnest tone. “So, tell me who you are.”
Eleanor met his penetrating stare. She parted her lips to speak. But no words came to mind. And then—even if they had—she wouldn’t have been able to speak them as a thickness clogged her throat and sharp pricks burned her eyes. A short, choked laugh erupted softly.
“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Isn’t that pathetic.”
Embarrassment flooded her system.
Surely, he’d never had a conversation like this after making love to a woman. It was one way to be memorable, she supposed.
When she would have turned her head to break from his gaze, he stopped her by pressing a heavy kiss on her lips. Whatever its initial purpose, the kiss quickly shifted into something far more erotic. And soon, she was breathless again with the sensations he roused within her.
When he finally lifted his head, she was certain he’d see stars in her eyes.
His smile was soft and tilted. “Can I tell you what I know about you?”
She gave a small shake of her head, not fully certain she wanted to hear what he’d say.
He chuckled.
“I know you for your curiosity. Your pragmatism. Your loyalty and kindness. I’ve also seen your creativity and innate bravery.”
Warmth flowed through her chest at his words, but she feared he was only seeing what he wanted to see. Not what was true.
“I’m not at all brave,” she argued with a shake of her head.
“Untrue. When most people would’ve run from that intruder tonight, you claimed his fallen weapon and faced him.” He chuckled. “Brave beyond measure.”
Her eyes pricked uncomfortably. “I can barely face a roomful of people without trembling and losing my ability to breathe.”
“Perhaps that is because you are sensitive to how cruel society’s judgment can be. It doesn’t make their opinions correct. And despite them all, you stand tall night after night, with elegance and the kind of strength they will never understand.”
Eleanor’s heart fluttered. Perhaps he really did believe she was brave and strong.
From the beginning he had seemed to understand her in a way no one else had ever tried to. And she’d never felt more herself than when she was with him. He was quickly convincing her…
But then a grin widened his lips and a wicked spark flared in his eyes. He lowered his head to murmur against her parted lips. “I also happen to know that you taste like warm honey, vanilla, and cinnamon.”
Already slipping beneath the spell of his charm and his wonderful mouth, she murmured, “I do?”
“M-hmm, and I’m very quickly becoming addicted.”
He slid his tongue languidly along hers, then nipped at her lower lip with the edge of his teeth. When he lifted his head, there was a glimmer of desire swirling in the pale blue-green of his eyes. It tugged at her core, warming her and chasing away the last of her uncertainty.
As he lifted some of his weight from her, she felt a cooling breeze chase over the slick moisture coating her belly.
“Have you a wash bowl?” he asked, pushing to his knees between her still-spread thighs.
Momentarily distracted by the sight of his nakedness so boldly displayed, not to mention the glistening wetness of his softening cock, it took Eleanor a moment to reply.
“Over there,” she muttered as she gestured to a corner of the room.
“Don’t move,” he ordered as he leapt with masculine grace from the bed and padded swiftly across the room. He returned a minute later with a wet cloth in his hand, which he used to wipe his seed from her belly before also cleaning himself.
After discarding the cloth back in the wash bowl, he returned to the bed and stretched out beside her, pulling her into his arms with her back curved against his front, before drawing the bedsheet over them both.
“When does your maid come to wake you?”
“Not before ten,” she murmured, already feeling the weight of slumber creeping over her as she nestled into the warmth of his body.
“Rest, my beauty,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her nape.
Her last thought was how odd it was that the endearment didn’t seem to bother her.