CHAPTER FIFTEEN LESSONS FOR A NOTORIOUS RAKE #3
Gabriel walked to the door. He turned the key. The click sent a warm pulse through Eleanor’s body. She folded her hands upon the manuscript.
“Is this how formal intelligence officers behave in publishing offices?”
“My authority has been questioned.”
“You have no authority here.”
“That is the problem.”
He returned. Eleanor leaned back in the chair.
“Remove your coat.”
Gabriel stopped. His brows lifted.
“You are issuing instructions?”
“Yes.”
“Does marriage permit this?”
“Your vows were unclear.”
He removed the coat. Slowly. The dark fabric slid from his shoulders and joined a stack of rejected proofs upon the nearby chair. Eleanor watched. Gabriel unfastened his waistcoat.
“You said only the coat.”
“I am demonstrating initiative.”
“Unreliable gentlemen often exceed instructions to create the appearance of competence.”
“This manuscript has poisoned you.”
“Continue.”
He removed the waistcoat. His cravat followed. Eleanor’s body tightened with anticipation.
“Shirt,” she said.
Gabriel’s fingers paused upon the first button.
“This proves nothing about my reliability.”
“It proves obedience.”
“An alarming distinction.”
He opened the shirt. The scars upon his chest and side appeared gradually.
Eleanor knew each of them now. They no longer seemed like locked passages into a past he could not speak.
They were part of the body she loved, touched without pity and kissed without pretending tenderness erased pain.
Gabriel drew the shirt over his head. His chest was already rising more quickly.
Eleanor stood. She crossed around the desk and stopped before him.
“Was chapter seven accurate?”
“Which assertion?”
“That rakes believe seduction qualifies as emotional communication.”
Gabriel placed his hands at her waist.
“Former rakes.”
“Did you feel emotionally articulate during our first lessons?”
“I was eloquent.”
“You left after the kiss.”
“I required time to revise.”
“You abandoned the library after touching my breast.”
“I was overwhelmed by scholarship.”
“You ended our arrangement by note.”
Gabriel winced.
“That remains indefensible.”
Eleanor touched the scar beneath his ribs. He became still beneath her fingers.
“Tell me what you want.”
His gaze held hers.
“You.”
“Specific.”
“I want to hear you laugh while I kiss you. I want your hands upon me. I want to give you pleasure until the manuscript’s author appears forgiving.”
“That may require several editions.”
“I have cleared the afternoon.”
Eleanor smiled.
“No performance?”
“No.”
She opened the front of her gown. Gabriel’s breathing changed.
Eleanor had chosen a dress with buttons she could reach herself, though his hands moved over hers as she worked.
Together, they loosened the bodice until the fabric fell open over her chemise.
Gabriel bent and kissed the upper curve of one breast through the thin linen. Eleanor’s fingers moved into his hair.
“Lower.”
He obeyed. His mouth travelled over the cloth, leaving warmth and dampness behind. He caught one nipple between his lips through the chemise and drew gently. Pleasure tightened sharply.
“More pressure.”
Gabriel gave it. Eleanor leaned against the desk.
He lowered the gown from her shoulders and pushed the chemise down until both breasts were bare.
The cool office air made her nipples tighten further.
Gabriel looked at them. His expression held no practised confidence.
Only hunger. He cupped one breast, kissed the other and used his tongue until Eleanor’s breath broke.
Months had not made his touch predictable.
Familiarity allowed greater honesty. She no longer wondered whether requesting more would reveal ignorance or greed.
She knew pleasure did not diminish authority. It belonged to her authority.
“Use your teeth,” she said.
Gabriel looked up.
“Gently.”
He obeyed. The slight scrape sent heat directly between her thighs. Eleanor gasped. Gabriel smiled against her skin.
“That was charm,” she said.
“That was satisfaction.”
“Continue before I revise the distinction.”
He kissed downward. His hands opened the remaining fastenings of her gown and lowered it over her hips. Eleanor stepped from the fabric. Her drawers and stockings remained, along with the stays that had loosened beneath his efficient fingers. Gabriel turned her gently.
“May I?”
“Yes.”
He opened the stays. Each release allowed her breath to deepen.
Gabriel kissed the back of her neck while lowering the garment.
Eleanor shivered. His hands moved around her waist from behind.
One slid upward to cup her breast. The other passed down her stomach.
He touched her through the opening in her drawers.
Eleanor’s head tipped back against his shoulder.
Gabriel’s fingers traced the wet heat already gathered there.
“You are ready.”
“You have become observant.”
“I had an excellent teacher.”
The words warmed her almost as much as his touch. He circled the sensitive point slowly. Eleanor opened her legs.
“Faster.”
Gabriel increased the rhythm. She moved against his hand. Their reflection appeared faintly in the dark window: Eleanor half undressed before the desk, Gabriel bare-chested behind her, his mouth at her throat and his hand hidden between her thighs. The sight sharpened the pleasure.
“Inside,” she whispered.
Gabriel slid one finger into her. Eleanor exhaled. He added another after her body softened. His thumb continued above while his fingers moved deeply, finding the place that made her hips jerk against him.
“There.”
He repeated it. Eleanor gripped the edge of the desk.
Pleasure gathered quickly. She had intended to control the encounter, to make him answer the manuscript’s charges through obedience.
Yet control no longer meant resisting surrender.
It meant knowing surrender was chosen and could end whenever she wished. Gabriel kissed beneath her ear.
“Do you want to come like this?”
“Not yet.”
He slowed at once. The pleasure retreated enough to leave her aching. Eleanor turned in his arms. She opened his trousers. Gabriel’s erection sprang hard against his stomach. She wrapped one hand around him. His breath left upon a rough sound.
“Your turn,” she said.
His eyes closed. Eleanor stroked him slowly. She knew the exact grip that made his hips shift, the sensitive place beneath the head and the rhythm that drew control from his face. Gabriel held her waist. Not directing. Anchoring himself. Eleanor lowered herself to her knees. His gaze snapped open.
“Eleanor.”
“Do you object?”
“Never.”
She touched her tongue to the tip. Gabriel groaned.
Eleanor licked around the swollen head, tasting the moisture gathered there, then closed her lips around him.
His fingers moved into her hair. She took him deeper.
Slowly. Gabriel’s body tightened. He allowed a small movement of his hips when she drew him farther, then stopped as though afraid enthusiasm might become control. Eleanor lifted her mouth.
“You may move.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel obeyed. He slid gently into her mouth, withdrawing before depth became uncomfortable. Eleanor used her hand with each motion, watching the loss of composure in his face.
“Tell me,” she said after releasing him.
“What?”
“Who was the superior teacher?”
Gabriel stared down at her.
“You have chosen an unfair moment.”
“The author recommends strategic timing.”
“You were an excellent pupil.”
Eleanor tightened her hand. His breath broke.
“That was not the question.”
“You taught observation.”
“And?”
“Negotiation.”
She stroked him again. Gabriel’s head tipped back.
“And?”
“Mercy?”
Eleanor used her tongue beneath the tip. His knees nearly weakened.
“Incorrect.”
“You.”
“Full sentence.”
He looked at her. Desire and laughter struggled within his face.
“You were the superior teacher.”
Eleanor smiled. Gabriel caught her beneath the arms and lifted her before she could take him into her mouth again. He placed her upon the desk. The manuscript pages shifted beneath her.
“One moment,” Eleanor said.
She gathered the chapter and placed it safely aside. Gabriel watched.
“I am moved by your priorities.”
“The author laboured over this.”
“The author has caused enough damage.”
He removed her drawers. Eleanor lifted her hips.
Gabriel stepped between her thighs. His mouth found hers first, tasting himself upon her tongue without hesitation.
Eleanor wrapped both arms around his neck.
The kiss deepened. Gabriel’s hands slid beneath her thighs and drew her toward the desk’s edge. He knelt. Eleanor looked down.
“Again?”
“You stopped me before the conclusion.”
“You were distracted.”
“I intend to improve.”
Gabriel spread her legs. His mouth touched her.
Eleanor’s hands tightened upon the desk.
He began gently, then followed every instruction she gave.
Slower. Harder. There. His tongue circled the sensitive peak while two fingers entered her.
Eleanor directed the movement with her hips, taking the pressure she wanted.
The climax returned. Stronger now. Gabriel watched her from between her thighs, his gaze open and hungry. Eleanor’s breath caught.
“Do not stop.”
He did not. Pleasure broke through her. Her body tightened around his fingers while she cried out, no longer caring whether anyone downstairs heard.
Gabriel held her through the final tremors, then kissed the damp skin of her inner thigh.
He rose. Eleanor reached for him. The inkpot tipped. Black ink flowed across the desk.
“Manuscript,” she gasped.
Gabriel caught the pages first. Eleanor seized the blotting paper. For several frantic seconds, they worked together while naked, aroused and breathing as though chased. The ink stopped less than an inch from chapter seven. Gabriel held up the rescued manuscript.
“Proof of reliability.”
“You endangered it.”
“The inkpot was badly placed.”
“You struck it.”
“With passion.”