Chapter Fifteen
Soft lips brushing her cheek woke her. Still half lost in sleep, Eleanor mumbled a sigh as the lips travelled down her neck.
She arched into the touch, only for the tangle of bedclothes to trap her to the bed.
Frowning, she opened her eyes to find Benedict braced above, the planes of his face cast in shadow and light by the still-burning coals in the fireplace. She smiled sleepily. “Benedict.”
“El.” Bending his head, he kissed her throat, his tongue dipping into the hollow.
“What are you doing here?” she murmured. Suddenly, she realised what she had said. The remnants of sleep fled and, sitting bolt upright, she demanded, “What are you doing here?”
“That hurt, El,” he said, rubbing the shoulder her sudden move had connected with.
“You are in my bedchamber, Benedict! How did you get here?”
Rotating his shoulder, he collapsed beside her. “Through the window. I used to climb into your bedchamber all the time.”
“We were children when you did that.”
“And now we are adults.” His eyes darkened. “El, I have thought of a lesson.”
Instantly, indignation retreated and heat curled low in her belly. “You have?”
The curve of his mouth wicked, he nodded.
“That does not mean you can sneak into my bedchamber,” she said, ignoring both her desire and his.
The wickedness died as he scowled. “How else was I to tell you? You did not come to tonight’s ball.”
“And so climbing into my bedchamber is an acceptable alternative?”
He folded his arm behind his head, his bicep bulging against his coat. “Are you truly aggrieved I have come?”
Her gaze wandered down his sprawled body.
He still wore his dress clothes, though he’d removed his boots.
Her heart clenched at the sight of his stocking feet.
“No,” she whispered. She looked from the temptation of his long body sprawled beside her to the darkness of her bedchamber.
“But we should not do it here, should we? What if someone hears?”
His eyes lit. Rising over her, he caged her with his arms. “We shall have to be quiet,” he murmured. “Can you be quiet?”
Her breath strangled in her chest. She nodded.
That wicked grin curved his mouth again as he glanced toward her bedchamber door. Returning his gaze to her, he said soberly, “I would never risk you, El.”
Raising her hand, she cupped his cheek. He would not. She knew this in her bones. “What lesson have you come up with?”
He turned into her touch, kissing her palm. “It’s called, let’s undress for El.”
Her mouth dried. Over the past week, she and Benedict had taken every opportunity to be together, and he had provided her a lesson in her sitting room, the carriage on the way to an evening at Vauxhall Gardens, and again in his townhouse.
She had seen him in various states of undress, but she’d never had the opportunity to look her fill. “Please, proceed.”
Giving her a quick kiss, he pushed up and straddled her hips. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it casually to the floor before starting on the buttons of his waistcoat. He flicked each one open as he smirked down at her.
Well, she couldn’t let that cocky grin slide. “Is this it?” she said tartly.
“Patience, El. That has always been something you have struggled with.” Opening his waistcoat, he stripped it from himself and treated it in the same manner as his jacket.
Her gaze fell to his chest. The glowing coals from the fire threw enough light to make the shirt translucent, the material billowing around his strong arms, his broad chest, his trim waist.
Her heart pounded as he started on his cravat.
He picked apart the knot, his eyes burning into hers as he unwound the fabric, revealing taut, golden skin.
His valet must have shaved him before he’d departed that evening, his jaw sharp and clean.
His strong throat worked, and she wanted to lick the movement.
He pulled his shirt over his head and she just about swallowed her tongue. She’d seen his chest, had felt it against her, but she’d not seen him on display. Not like this.
Strong collarbones winged shoulders rounded with muscle, his broad chest lightly sprinkled with dark hair.
Faint ridges defined his abdomen, the delineation leading to his navel and a dusting of hair which disappeared into his breeches.
She knew he attended a gymnasium, rode every day, and the delicious sight displayed before her lay proof to that knowledge.
Taking her hand, he placed it against him.
His skin was hot and the muscles underneath hard, his heart an erratic beat.
Her own heart sped at the proof he was just as affected by this as she was.
She traced a path down his chest, the rough sprinkle of dark hair over smooth muscle His stomach muscles jumped as she continued down the ridges of his abdomen, following the line of each before tracing the flesh that met the band of his breeches.
She stopped, her fingers resting on the fabric.
“Do you want to undo them, El?” he rasped.
“Yes.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from the sweep of her hand, bank and forth, back and forth.
Sliding his hands under hers, he showed her the closure. Biting her lip, she undid the first button, feeling his hot gaze upon her as she undid the second, and then the third. The fabric fell open and her hands froze.
“El?”
She shook her head, her cheeks ablaze. She wanted to be bold, she truly did, but… Honestly, what was wrong with her? She had done this before, why was she now hesitant?
“Too much?”
Unable to meet his gaze, she nodded. “I want to, but…”
Capturing her hand, he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Only ever what you want.”
Warmth burst in a rush in her chest alongside the desire. He understood. Of course he did. Benedict always understood her.
“May I remove your nightgown?” he said gravely.
A smile tugged at her. “You may,” she said just as gravely.
He helped her shuffle it up her legs and then over her head. She lay back on the bed bracing herself on her elbows as he rid himself of his breeches, and then he was as gloriously naked as she was. Climbing back onto the bed, he settled on his knees.
She might have been too shy to touch him but she had no issues with staring.
His cock stood straight and proud, hard and flushed.
She had seen it that one time before, but it had been obscured by his breeches.
That had been inside her? It looked almost too big, but she knew it wasn’t.
She knew he fit inside her like he was made for her. Like she was made for him.
“My eyes are up here, El.”
Her gaze flew to his at his amused words.
He cocked a brow. “You will not touch, but you will look?”
The flush rose from her chest, heat spreading up her neck to her cheeks. “I—”
His gaze softened. Quick as a flash, he kissed her lips before straightening.
“Don’t fret, El, I’d stare at you, too.” His gaze drifted over her lingering on her breasts, her belly, the place between her thighs.
His gaze rose to meet hers, and the need in his eyes made her squirm.
“See,” he said hoarsely. “I’d stare, too. Open your legs, El.”
Eyes locked on his, she parted her thighs. Moving between them, his hand slid up the outside of her leg. “Are you wet for me, El?”
He loomed over her, his knees spread wide between her open thighs. Longing clenched her belly. She was hot, and wet, and she wanted him. “Yes, Benedict. Only ever for you.”
His eyes flared. Pulling her knees wider, he urged her feet flat on the bed. Hauling her hips up his thighs, he lined himself up and, with a sharp thrust, he entered her. She gasped and then moaned as he pushed the rest of the way, his cock heavy and full inside her.
He stilled. “You are well?”
She nodded, his cock almost too big, pulsing against her walls. She was full, so full of him.
Fingers digging into her hips, he pulled her into each thrust, pushing deeper with every stroke.
She dug her head into the pillow, her hands curling around his wrists.
He kept a steady pace, each thrust hitting her precise, filling her and retreating, driving her mad.
Pleasure curled in her belly, a restless ache that demanded more.
“Harder, Benedict,” she gasped. “More. Please.”
“You want it harder, El?” he said, punctuating his words with a sharp shove.
Digging her heels into the bed, she pushed herself into him. “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Christ. Fuck. El,” he grunted, and then he slammed himself inside her.
Each shove pushed her up the bed, such she braced her hands against the headboard.
His gaze dropped, need darkening his face as he watched her breasts bounce with each thrust. A demon took her and she covered one of her breasts, pushing and shaping the flesh.
Lust twisted his face. “Pinch your nipple,” he pleaded hoarsely.
She did and the sharp bite of pleasure made her moan.
He growled, his hips stuttering into her, his fingers biting her flesh.
Gaze on him, she drew two fingers into her mouth and made them wet, her cheeks hollowing as she pulled.
He watched her, never losing the rhythm that threatened to drive her mad.
She painted her nipple with the wetness, gasping as her fingers slid in the slick, her nipple pouting and red.
“Are you teasing me?” he growled.
“I should never do such a thing,” she managed.
“I think you are. I think you are teasing me. Do you know what teasing gets you?”
Slowly, she shook her head, even as she flicked her thumb over her nipple.
His eyes flared. Hooking her leg over his hip, he shoved into her. The angle changed, and now he hit a place inside her that made her eyes roll back into her head.
“Harder, El. Teasing will get you harder.”
She moaned as he put action to words, pulling her into his thrusts. “Look at you, El,” he grunted. “Look at you taking me. You feel so good, so hot and wet.”
“Benedict,” she moaned, her heel digging into his back.
“Are you going to come, El?”
She was. She could feel it drawing tighter inside her, her core weeping, tension drawing her muscles tight. “Yes. More, Bened—” Her voice broke as he slammed into her, stars bursting behind her eyes.
“Such a needy girl,” he crooned. “You need me, don’t you, El? You need me to give you it deep.”
She moaned, words beyond her as the pleasure built inside her.
“Come, El. I want to feel you come. Squeeze my cock.”
Pleasure broke inside her, a thousand sparks destroying her and making her anew. She moaned his name, shuddering as the orgasm rushed through her.
He lost his rhythm, his thrusts clumsy, and then he wrenched himself from her. She watched in a daze as he took himself in hand, his hand shuttling back and forth, and then he came, grunting her name as he spilled his seed over her thighs and belly.
His hands gentled on her hips, soothing now. “Are you well?” he said, his chest bellowing.
She nodded, her voice stolen.
Grabbing his handkerchief, he cleaned them both and then leant down. His kiss was sweet and slow and she wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him to settle upon her.
“I will crush you,” he murmured against her mouth.
“No, you won’t,” she whispered back. She didn’t know why she needed him close, but she did, and his big, warm body wrapped around her as she recovered.
“I am going to crush you,” he said. Turning them both, he settled beside her. She nestled into his chest as he tightened his arms about her. “Did you enjoy your lesson, El?”
“It was the best ever,” she said, her eyes heavy.
His lips brushed her forehead. “The best ever.”
She fell asleep with a smile and the smell of him surrounding her.
Lips brushed her cheek, warm breath skimming her skin. She smiled sleepily. “Benedict.”
“I have to go, El,” he whispered.
Her bedchamber was still shrouded in darkness, but the faintest of lights peeked through her window. Benedict was fully dressed
A strange sadness weighed heavy in her chest. “So soon?”
“It is almost dawn.” He smoothed her hair. “The servants will be up soon.”
He had to go. She knew he could not stay, but it hurt her heart for him not to still be in bed with her, his arms around her and the steady thump of his heart beneath her cheek, his skin warm against hers.
Pushing herself up, she held the bed covers to her chest. “Would you hand me my nightgown?”
With a smirk, he did so. She could practically read what he was thinking. “I know you’ve seen me without clothing.”
“I did not say anything.”
“You did not have to.” Nightgown in place, she threw back the covers. “You were not going to leave via the window, were you?”
“I had thought about it.”
“Why do that when you could just use the door?”
“Well, now that you’ve said it, it seems obvious.”
The house was silent as they quietly made their way through the halls, into the kitchen. At the door, he turned to face her. “Goodnight, El.”
A strange pain lodged in her chest. Framed in the doorway, about to leave, it looked wrong. “Goodnight, Benedict.” Lifting to her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. His mouth was warm and soft as she kissed him. His arms slid about her waist, as if he did not want to let her go too.
His lips brushed her forehead. “I really have to go, El.”
“I know.” She lifted her face and he kissed her, his mouth warm and sweet.
With another kiss, he disappeared through the door.
She hugged herself, a strange pain lodged in her chest. Turning, she made her way back to her room, which now seemed cold and lonely.
She missed him already.