To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) (33 page)

BOOK: To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series)
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A shiver of heat rushed through her body. “Oh.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and slid his hand up her back, pressing the flat of his palm between her shoulder blades. Slowly, he lowered his lips. Eleanor sighed, closing her eyes and lifting on tiptoe to meet him. It was a soft, gentle kiss that left
her weak-kneed and wanting more. When he finally drew back, she sank into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. This was the James she knew, the James she had come to care for.

“I was so worried,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered.

He nuzzled the top of her head, pressing kisses to her hair. Through the drying towel and her nightdress, she could feel his erection growing long and hard. Despite her vulnerable emotional state, she found her own body hungry for his touch. Emboldened, she pressed her mouth to the scruff along his throat. The scent of the prison was gone and he smelled like himself once more. Unable to help herself, she darted her tongue out, drawing a damp path up his neck.

James groaned, his arms tightening around her body, pressing her soft curves up against his hard form. Every kiss, every touch, every ache was as sweet as she remembered. Better, for she knew now what was to come.

“I want you too, James,” she whispered.

With a growl, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Help me, Ellie. Help me remember what it’s like to feel pleasure, not pain. To know hope, not despair. Love me.”

A rush of emotion overwhelmed her. She did love him, so much more than he realized. The warm feelings that swept through her body had nothing to do with attraction and all to do with love. He settled her gently upon the bed. The chill that had permeated her bones since James had been arrested faded.

“You don’t know how relieved I am to see you,” he said softly. “Thinking about you was the thing that kept me alive.”

She felt his words all the way to her soul. He stretched out beside her and reached for the neckline of her night wrap. With a quick tug, the gown was down and her breasts exposed. His mouth covered a hardened nipple, and attraction shot through her body, pooling in her groin. Eleanor arched her back, unable to control the emotions pulsing within.

“So lovely,” he whispered, as his hand came up to cup her other breast. “You smell so damn good, like roses in the middle of hell. I’d think about that scent when I was in the gaols. Dream about gardens and you. Dream about touching you, kissing you, being inside of you.”

He pressed his mouth to the valley between her breasts. Then lower, taking her gown with him. Moments later she found herself naked, and the towel that had been covering James was gone. When he lay atop her, pressing his full weight into her body, she thought she’d gone to heaven. She would never tire of his touch, never tire of him. Eleanor wrapped her legs around his calves, holding him close. He was hers. Finally. He was free from Lady Lavender’s hold, and she would be free from her husband soon.

As James pressed his mouth to hers, his hand slid torturously slowly up her thigh. Ellie groaned, wiggling beneath him. The ache between her legs twisted almost painfully. After having gone so many years without the gentle touch of a loved one, Ellie was frantic for more. “Please, James.”

“I want to kiss every bit of you, I want to savor the feel of my cock entering you slowly, fully.”

“No.” She shook her head, her body flushed with desperation. “Later we’ll go slowly. This time fast.”

The surprised grin upon his face sent her heart pattering. His knuckles brushed the curls hiding her femininity. She shuddered, whimpering for more. When he eased a finger between her slick folds and into her tight sheath, it still wasn’t enough.

“Dear God, you’re wet,” he whispered.

“James, I want you fully,” she whispered, her face heating with an embarrassed blush. She’d never asked for anything, but she couldn’t quite keep the words inside.

He pressed his mouth to hers in a quick kiss and shifted so his erection pressed against the spot that ached for his touch. “This?”

Ellie nodded, her hands moving down his muscled back toward his tight arse. She felt afire. Every nerve in her body
begged for his touch. She’d had a taste of perfection and she craved more. Lord, she’d had no idea being with a man could feel this way.

“I was so worried,” she whispered against his lips. “So afraid.”

He pressed the thickened head of his cock to her folds and entered her with a quick thrust of his hips. “I have you now. Nothing, no one, will keep us apart.”

Whether it was true or not, at that moment she believed him. As he lifted his hips, she surged upward, meeting him thrust for thrust. Years of loneliness were gone with his touch. With James she had everything she’d ever wanted, everything she needed. Life with James might be difficult, but it would be full of adventure and compassion.

His mouth found hers, his tongue delving between her lips in a heated kiss that left her feeling drugged. His arms wrapped around her possessively as he rocked into her, finding a rhythm that matched her own.

His muscled back was tight under her palms, a find sheen of sweat coated their skin, and the erotic scents of their lovemaking permeated the air. Every bit of her body tingled with sudden awareness. He knew exactly where to touch her, exactly what to whisper into her ear.

“Come for me, Eleanor,” he said softly.

When the ache between her legs finally uncoiled into blinding pleasure, she cried out his name. James surged into her one more time, throwing his head back with a groan. The feel of his wet seed entering her body sent her sheath trembling all over again.

Ellie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly to her, suddenly afraid he would leave. She didn’t want to let him go… ever.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his breathing harsh. “I’ll crush you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

Unwillingly, she released her hold and he rolled away, reclining on his back, his eyes closed. Ellie cuddled up next to him, resting her hand on his chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart. She wanted words of passion, words of love. He said nothing. Slowly, she reached out, brushing the damp clumps of hair from his forehead. He looked peaceful, boyish almost.

“James,” she whispered, steeling her courage. “I love you.”

He didn’t respond.

Ellie pulled the covers up to her chin, feeling suddenly cold. Her husband had taken everything from her… her innocence, her family, her faith. He’d crushed her hopes and dreams. But she’d never truly loved him.

As she lay there listening to James’s deep, even breathing she realized that James could hurt her in a way her husband never could. He could destroy her very soul. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to go blank, determined to rest.

Tomorrow was another day. Things would be better in the morning… at least she hoped.

Chapter 18

James was gone.

Alex had left years ago.

It seemed as if she’d lost Gideon as well.

Ophelia had dismissed most of the staff, sent them on their way to whatever lives they could make for themselves. She wasn’t a complete monster; she’d given them each enough to pass the next few months. Only Wavers remained, refusing to leave her side, the moron. He was like a large bulldog that drooled all over her, wanting a handout. She’d get rid of him too, when she was ready. Rumors were circulating that she would be shut down soon, in any way possible. Society had had enough of Lady Lavender’s sinful ways. She had nothing left.

Ophelia stood and moved toward the windows, gazing out upon the fields of lavender. Soon now… soon she’d be ready. The sun was just rising, the sky brilliant red and orange. As a child she’d always awoken early to be with her father while he practiced his sermons. They would stroll through the fields at sunrise, taking along a breakfast, while Mama and the other children slept. He would practice his speech while she watched the sunrise and
thought that nothing, ever, could be as wonderful. She’d been right. She raised her bandaged hand, the throbbing almost unbearable.

What a different person she’d been; she barely recognized that child, those dreams. But she’d left France, excited about her prospects. She was beautiful, her mother had said, she was their ticket to a better life. When she’d been invited by a wealthy cousin to go to London, they’d been so sure she would land a rich, titled gent.

She had caught the attention of a gent… but not for marriage. He’d told her he loved her and she’d been too stupid and innocent to know better. He’d begged her to meet him, and she had. Stupid, silly girl. That night had changed her forever, had killed a part of her she couldn’t revive. It was the night when she’d realized how much evil there was in the world. And God? She released a harsh laugh. There was no God. And so she did what she had to in order to survive… she focused on revenge. It was what kept her going when she would have rather died.

She drew her hand down the fine velvet blue curtains. “And the sons shall inherit the sins of the fathers.”

She had ruined their lives. It had all been so very easy. She had taken their children, taken their heirs. She had done what she had set out to do… avenge herself, destroy the men who had destroyed her with no thought to her feelings, her innocence. And it had worked. For a while she had felt vindicated. For a while she had been able to enjoy the riches of her spoils. But soon enough the feelings of success had faded, as all things do.

“Alone,” she whispered, her breath fogging up the window. Although she hadn’t had money, she could have been the darling of the
ton
. She could have married high above her station and helped her family along the way. But one night… one foolish night had ruined it all. It had been torn from her, crushed beneath selfish, demonic feet. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. But she had gotten her revenge.

Her smile fell. If she had destroyed their lives, why did she still feel so angry, so hollow? Perhaps because Alex, Gideon, and James had beaten her by finding lives outside these prison walls. They had escaped. Perhaps because she hadn’t truly been able to punish the men who had done the crime, and had to settle for their offspring. She didn’t know and she didn’t care anymore.

“Let it be over,” she whispered.

“Pardon?” Wavers said from behind her.

She turned slowly away from the window. The large brute looked truly worried about her. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The one man she thought of as nothing more than a pesky pup was the only one who truly cared. “ ’Tis nothing. Nothing at all.”

“You should eat,” he said in his thick accent as he entered the room, carrying a tray of soup and bread. “You don’t eat anymore.”

She wasn’t hungry. Hadn’t been in months, although she’d eaten enough to survive. She’d had her dresses taken in three times, and still they hung on her small frame. He set the tray on the table near the fireplace. The scent of soup made her nauseous.

“I’ll eat,” she lied. “Just leave me in peace.”

He looked up sharply. She didn’t miss the hurt in his eyes. “But—”

“You overstep yourself,” she snapped, growing more annoyed with him the longer he stood in her presence. She couldn’t abide a man who begged for attention. Why couldn’t he just leave her with whatever little peace she could find?

He flushed, his jaw working. If he cried, she swore she’d shoot him herself. But fortunately the man shuffled off like a pup who’d been beaten by his master. He thought she had feelings for him, as he did her. Loyalty, compassion, softness. She had feelings for no one. She had lost that ability long ago when her father had tossed her from the house, saying he would never forgive her for ruining herself. But she had gotten back at them. When her mother had come begging for money seven years ago, Ophelia had merely
laughed, loving the satisfaction she’d felt as she’d slammed the door in her face. She hadn’t a clue where they were now, if any of them still lived, and didn’t really care.

When the door creaked open she turned, prepared to demand Wavers leave her alone once and for all. But it was not Wavers’s hulking form that stood in the doorway. It was someone more elegant, more finely dressed, far more dangerous… Lord Beckett. She found his presence odd indeed, for they had never had much of a conversation. She’d merely told him where he could find James, along with Lady Beckett. It had been all so very easy to sit back and watch. And even though she had done Lord Beckett a favor, he hadn’t thanked her.

“She thinks to divorce me,” he said as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

Ophelia laughed, delighted by the woman’s audacity, even as she wondered why in the world he would tell her such personal news. She’d never thought much about Lady Beckett before; she had merely been a means to an end. But now she found she liked the brazen wench very well indeed. Perhaps in another time, another place, they might have even been friends.

Ophelia smirked, leaning back against the edge of her desk. “She shall have a difficult time with that.”

He didn’t return her amusement. “Perhaps.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying the man. There was something he wasn’t telling her… a reason for his presence. He moved slowly across the room, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. As before when she’d seen him, his mustache was tidy and combed, his hair slicked back into place, and his clothing, although he had traveled by coach a good hour or so, was without crease. He was a man who took his appearance quite seriously.

“But maybe not.” He settled in the chair across from her desk, a mere ten steps or so from her. “Her second cousin or such is related to the queen.”

Ophelia lifted a brow, amused and curious as to why he was
here. Certainly he had a plan of some sort, although she wasn’t quite sure of the specifics. She tilted her head high, not one to be easily frightened. “She might be distantly related to royalty, yet they couldn’t protect her from you.”

“From me?” His gaze flashed with outrage, although he kept his voice calm. “Her father was the third son of a baron. Their blood is nothing compared to my family lineage.”

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