Chapter 23

 

 

 

Eleanora smiled, reveling in Christian’s darkly erotic look with her demand that he lay on the bed.

Withdrawing, he turned and strode toward the bed, pulling off the sheath as he went. He dropped it in the bin, opened the night table drawer, and pulled out several envelopes.

“I plan for us to continue this through the night,” he said.

“Good. So do I,” Eleanora replied. How he could walk straight, Eleanora had no idea, for her legs had turned to jelly. Tossing her cloak aside, she pointed to the bed. “There will be time enough for removing of clothes and further exploration. For now, I want you to lay on the bed, and I will climb on top.”

“As you wish, Miss Galway.”

Grabbing another sheath, he laid flat, then lowered his trousers enough to free his erection and slip the condom on. Christian gave his shaft a couple of strokes, showing Eleanora such a sultry look that her insides turned to custard.

He was a magnificent specimen—what she had seen so far. Eleanora couldn’t wait to see the rest of him. But, patience. The leisurely lovemaking would come later in the night. All she wanted, all she desired—and had dreamt about since first meeting him—was to ride him into oblivion.

The quick tup in the carriage was a taste. Eleanora wanted the entire meal. Along with the dessert.

Lifting her skirts, she sat astride him.

“What next, Miss Galway?” Christian murmured.

“You are to lie perfectly still and allow me to have my way with you.”

He groaned, grasped his erection, and stroked it again.

Eleanora laid her hand over his. “No pleasuring yourself unless I say you can.”

“Do you want me to come right here and now? If so, continue to order me about,” he growled.

Eleanora laughed as she undid a couple of the buttons on his shirt. There were too many of them for her liking. Taking hold of the bottom of the shirt with both hands, she jerked it apart, and the fine silk tore right up to the collar. Buttons went pinging across the room, landing on the wood floor.

“Oh, Christ,” Christian moaned.

Separating the sections of the torn shirt; Eleanora admired his very impressive chest. Lightly dusted with black hair, he was every bit as leanly muscled as she thought he would be. With a contented sigh, she laid her hands flat against his torso and started to explore. Across his muscled pectorals, his hardened nipples, lower to the knot of muscles across his stomach.

“As I observed on many occasions, you are finely made, in all ways,” she murmured.

Touching him like this sent her desire clear off the cliff. Never in her two previous encounters had she been this aroused.

It was the deep emotions in play. Eleanora understood it. They were in play as they never were the other times.

The tips of her fingers explored every curve of sinew and bone, then she rose and made a slow descent until Christian was buried deep inside.

Eleanora rocked back and forth, rising and plunging downward with each motion. The leisurely stroking grew by increments. Christian placed his hands on her hips, but he stayed still, allowing her to set the pace for her maximum enjoyment.

How she reveled in this. As her hardened nub rubbed against Christian’s thick hardness, wonderous sensations tore through her.

Eleanora picked up the pace.

“Take your hair down—please,” Christian rasped.

Considering the wild sex against the wall, it had partly came unpinned anyway.

“I like that you said please,” Eleanora teased as she reached up to release the rest of her locks.

“It’s beautiful, like chestnut waves of silk.”

Shaking her hair loose, she threw back her head and moaned softly.

“Come for me, my love.” She met his gaze. “Please,” Christian added with a sultry smile.

“Oh, yes.”

Eleanora completely lost herself in the moment. The crescendo built as she moved faster, exploding in what resembled fireworks she had seen once at the parliament buildings years ago. Eleanora cried out, holding still, allowing wave after wave to roll over her.

“Yes,” Christian growled. He then moved, thrusting his hips upward. Though she still tried to catch her breath, she met Christian’s rhythm until he grew taut and groaned with his release.

Intense. Otherworldly.

Gasping, she leaned in and kissed Christian deeply, and their tongues clashed, fighting for domination.

Eleanora couldn’t stay upright, she collapsed next to him, and Christian pulled her in tight, laying her head against his shoulder.

“Rest, my love. We have hours yet.”

Eleanora yawned as her fingertips trailed through the hair on his chest.

They slept.

 

 

When she awoke; Eleanora found a shirtless Christian standing before the bed holding a tray.

“Oh, how long did I sleep?” she asked sleepily.

“About an hour, as did I.” He held up the tray. “I have the scones, butter, jelly, and cold milk. Sorry, I can’t make tea or coffee. I found a few biscuits in the larder as well.”

He sat next to her on the bed and placed the tray between them.

“Oh, I am famished.” Eleanora reached for a frosted sugar biscuit.

“El.”

“Hmm?” she replied, her mouth full of biscuit.

“I am in love with you.”

Eleanora stopped chewing. It was hard to swallow anyway, considering a lump had lodged itself in her throat at the emotionally spoken words.

“I do not expect you to reply in kind, not yet, anyway,” Christian said, his voice low. “Many would say this could not be a tangible thing, for we have only known each other a few weeks. But it is most decidedly real for me: intense, soul-stirring, and my heart is yours for as long as we draw breath.”

Tears threatened, but she remained silent, unsure of what to say. Or too frightened to put her own powerful emotions into words. In nearly every aspect of her life, confidence ruled her actions.

But this?

Her well-hidden sensitivity roared to the surface.

Christian took her hand. “El, swallow your biscuit before you choke, my love.”

With an audible gulp, she did as a lone tear trickled down her flushed cheek.

“I’ve come to know you quite well. As with every aspect of your life, you need to ponder it out and come to a logical conclusion. Even where your emotions are concerned. It is one of the many, many things I love about you. Your bold confidence, mixed with a heart-breaking sensitivity, vastly appeals to me.”

“Chris—”

“Let me finish. You said you would protect me from physical harm. It turns out I need protection from my confessed vulnerabilities. Know that I will do the same for you. Protect you with my very life. In all ways. And when you’re ready, share your life with me. I. Love. You. I’m all in, El. Forever.” He kissed her hand, then released it. “Butter me a scone, will you, love?”

What did he say? Scone?

Her head swam, with all manners of emotions firing her nerve endings. Where was that intermittent impulsivity when she needed it? Instead of throwing herself in his arms and returning his deeply affecting words of love, she instead buttered a scone and passed it to him.

Christian gave her a warm smile as he took it from her trembling fingers. How can he be so understanding? Why is he not angry at her for not being capable of returning his honest declaration?

“A little jelly won’t go amiss,” he whispered.

A gasping sob left her throat.

“Everything is all right, El. I understand.”

And she loved him all the more for it.

“I meant to ask, why were you dressed as a laborer that night you came to the club?” Christian asked as he spread jelly on another piece of scone.

Eleanora could hug the stuffing out of him right now. Christian had observed her turmoil and changed the subject to focus her mind on something else. He knew and understood her after all.

Grateful for the change in topic, she told the narrative of Mr. Kitchener (without mentioning his name or occupation) and following him to the molly house. The agreement they came to, and his giving his wife the divorce.

“Everything worked out for all concerned. You handled it well, with sensitivity and compassion,” Christian said. “But how did you know of The Sportsman Club? I assumed it was a well-kept secret among the upper echelons.”

“When I first started my investigative agency, my father and uncle took Althea and me on a tour of ‘Underbelly London’ as they called it. I know the location of the more prominent brothels, opium dens, and gambling establishments throughout the city.”

“You continue to surprise, Miss Galway,” Christian teased. Then he sobered. “Had enough to eat?”

“Yes, for now.”

“Good, because I need to make love to you.” Christian removed the tray, then held out his hand. She stood, and he slowly undressed her. “Your beauty astounds me. El, you take my breath away.” He gently laid his hand against her chest, his brows knotted with concern. “The bruises, do they still hurt?”

“The color is fading, they were purple yesterday, now they’re a yellowish-brown. I am fine. The days spent in bed hastened my recovery. I don’t ache nearly as much.”

“To mar such perfection. If I ever find who kicked you, I will rip them to shreds.”

“I appreciate that. And I am far from perfect. I’m too tall—”

He gently laid the tip of his finger against her lips. “I will not have you run down a list of supposed flaws. I see none. You’re tall enough for me.”

Eleanora chuckled, then kissed his finger. “My height was the only supposed flaw I was going to mention, and others see it so, not I.”

“Exactly right.” He deftly removed her blouse, skirt, and chemise, tossing them aside. Then he knelt and placed her boot on his thigh. Slowly, Christian unlaced and removed them. Then her stockings. Standing, he admired her. “Stunning.”

Swiftly, he divested himself of his remaining clothes, and they lay on the bed. Fitting on another sheath, Christian made a deliberate study of her body, kissing, nipping, and licking along the way, paying special attention to the most feminine part of her, using his mouth and tongue to heighten her desire.

He brought her to a rapid and intense climax, then entered her before she could even catch her breath. Christian’s thrusts were deep but slow, building to a faster pace in increments.

Eleanora wrapped her long legs around him, lifting her hips to meet him. They weren’t quiet; both of them moaned and urged each other on to a higher plane. Taking their pleasure and taking their time, but freely giving. Their peak hit at nearly the exact moment.

Christian collapsed on top of her, and she held him close, swiping his damp hair from his brow, kissing him. Eleanora had shown in action how she truly felt about him.

There was no doubt of it. Eleanora loved him with every fiber of her being.

Now she had to gather up the courage to put those actions into words.

A life together? Could they achieve it?

On the surface, it seemed impossible.

A duke and a lady detective?

But in her heart, she knew they belonged together.

If only her mind would agree.