Escape To Me Page 2

“It’s hard.” He pressed his lips together. “Have you ever been married?”

  Her heart twisted at his simple question. All she’d ever wanted was for someone to love her. And a few children to squeeze and kiss. She didn’t ask for too much…did she?

  She forced a smile. “No, I’m not married. I never found the right suit—” She broke off and coughed, barely catching herself in time. Women nowadays didn’t call their prospective husbands suitors. “Uh, suitable guy.”

  Well, she’d found him, but he’d been already married and in love with his wife.

  He rubbed his jaw and let out a breath. This, combined with his hooded eyes examining her, proved to be a deadly combination. Her breathing quickened, as did something deep inside her stomach.

  Odd.

  “I find that hard to believe.” He swallowed hard. “You’re quite beautiful.”

  She averted her eyes. “I assure you, I am not sought-after.”

  He picked up another strand of hair. His attention was on her face, and she wondered if he even realized what he was doing with his hands. “I can’t imagine you don’t have any suitors. A man would be a fool not to knock on your door.”

  “You’ve never called on me. Does that make you a fool?” She stepped a bit closer, and his nostrils flared. Trembling at her brazenness, she wondered where it had come from. She had never crossed the line between appropriate and inappropriate. No one ever attempted to seduce her or even steal a kiss.

  Yet, she flirted with Thomas as if she were a connoisseur of men.

  He held her waist, his thumbs brushing small circles on her hips. “Indeed, guilty as charged.”

  She batted her lashes. All those hours of watching debutantes flirt finally paid off. “Well, we’re here now. And you’ve got me all to yourself.”

  She curled the soft fabric of his shirt in her fists, leaning into him. He clenched his jaw and pulled her closer, so close their toes touched. He grabbed her chin, holding her still. Her heart sped up, and she fought the urge to flee from his scrutiny. Why was he looking at her as if he knew her?

  His brow wrinkled, he frowned. “You remind me of someone. I can’t quite figure out whom…?”

  She stumbled backward, dread filling her heart. Turning her back on him, she hugged herself and tried to come up with a way to continue her farce. If he gawked at her much longer, he might manage to recollect her face.

  That wouldn’t do at all.

  Thomas walked up behind Eleanor, trying to read the tense line of her shoulders. Madame Eve’s missive had told him women of this day and age were bolder. More willing to hop from bed to bed with one man after another. He had a hard time placing this woman in that category, though. Hell’s bells, she acted more nervous than him.

  She held herself as, and spoke like, a true lady. Of course, one needed to ignore the scandalous clothing she wore. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn to having seen her at a ball or two. But she’d never fit in his world. Women in his day didn’t walk around with naked ankles…let alone knees.

  Nor did they bare their breasts quite so much—or maybe they did. But somehow, paired with the short skirt, her shirt seemed more inappropriate to him. More tempting.

  Speaking of which—they peeked over the top of her daring ensemble, and his palms itched to touch her. If he had to wait much longer, she’d wonder what in the world he’d hidden in his pockets. The only way he’d been able to control his desires so far was by shoving his hands into the far too small pockets of his ridiculous trousers.

  He closed the distance between them and touched her shoulders. Her soft blonde curls teased his skin, and he wondered what she looked like with her hair in an elaborate coiffure.

  When she stiffened, he hesitated. “Is something wrong? Would you like me to leave?”

  She peeked at him over her shoulder. “No, I don’t wish you to leave.”

  His cock hardened against the uncomfortable zipper, and he stepped closer to whisper into her ear. “Would you like to go into the bedroom?”

  He played with her earlobe and the loose strand of hair hanging over it, while she quaked in his arms. He placed a light kiss on her temple, resisting the urge to press his erection against her soft arse.

  Having been without sex since Suzanne died, he hadn’t expected to want Eleanor as much as he did. She’d barely said a word or two to him, but he ached to drive himself inside her until he could go no farther and sate himself with her luscious body.

  Eleanor spun to face him, lower lip caught in her teeth. As she stepped close to his chest, she tilted her chin and looked up at him. His fingers traced the soft curve of her hip of their own accord, and he groaned at the lust shooting through his veins.

  “Are you certain you’re ready for this, Thomas? You seem to be in love with your wife, still.”

  Images of Suzanne played across his mind—of them laughing in their gardens, of her face as he plunged inside her. Why did Eleanor have to mention her? Did she know how torturous it was to picture his dead wife in the same line of thought as the woman he now sought to crawl into bed with?

  Could he follow through with his rash decision to make love to someone besides her?

  Could he afford not to?

  Straightening his spine, he pulled her into his arms. Her bosom pressed into his chest, making him ache for more. Her light periwinkle eyes widened when he pressed her body more closely to his. He looked within their depths, and his heart melted. “I’m ready. With you…I’m ready.”

  Eleanor blinked. “Why me?”

  “Because you make me long to feel something again. You make me ache for something I thought I could no longer desire.” He opened his mouth and closed it, trying to find the perfect words. Tried to find a way to tell her how much it meant to him that she made him want to move on. “If anything, I need you too much. All my doubts fade away when I see you.”

  “Thomas,” she whispered, licking her lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve waited to hear you say that. For so long.”

  Something was off with her words, something that didn’t quite add up, but he wasn’t going to waste time with thought. Right now, he needed her so bad it hurt. “I’m all yours.”

  She smiled and grabbed his shirt. “Then come get me.”

  Groaning, he crushed his lips to hers…and time stood still.

  Chapter Two

  Eleanor’s world as she knew it froze, and all that existed was here and now. His hands on her. His tongue brushing against hers. Nothing else mattered. She seized the fabric of Thomas’s shirt and whimpered. While his tongue plundered, her knees gave out. At her sound of distress, he swept her into his arms. He never broke contact with her lips as he carried her into the bedroom.

  Setting her down on the bed, he tore his mouth from hers. Their raspy breathing filled the room, and he cupped her cheeks. She touched his lower lip with her pointer finger and then pressed it to her mouth.

  “Is it always this amazing?” she asked, without thinking. His brow wrinkled, and she almost groaned. Always a gentleman, he’d refuse to deflower her if he suspected she was untouched, so she grinned and gave a brazen laugh. Reaching up, she toyed with his hair—much like he had done with hers. “I mean, most men can’t even make me tempted, yet alone shaky. You’re good at this.”

  He growled and pressed his erection against her belly. “I’ve been having the same issue with women. Since my wife died, I’ve found myself unable to desire another. Until now. Until you,” he murmured into her ear, nibbling on the sensitive spot behind her lobe.

  She shivered and pulled him closer. His chest pressed into hers, and her nipples throbbed at his delicious weight. She wriggled in his arms, experimenting with the new sensations. Desire shot to her core, and she repeated the movement. Mmm. Even better the second time.

  “If you don’t stop that, it’ll be over before I even get to have you,” he muttered, his jaw tight. He held her hips still while he placed kisses down the side of her neck and over the swell of
her bosom. “It might be over too fast even if you behave.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that,” Eleanor murmured. Little did he know that she’d been waiting her entire life to hear those words. If he did know, he would probably laugh in her face. Unsettled by the reality of her pathetic life, she tilted her chin up to him. “Would you please kiss me again?”

  “As you wish, my lady.” Thomas took her mouth under his, swallowing her gasp at the slip of his tongue. Every time he called her by her title, she feared he knew her secret. But judging from the passionate kisses, she remained safe.

  His tongue caressed hers and she squirmed beneath him, an itchy restlessness overcoming her. She moved her tongue, and he moaned as he stroked hers in return. His palm cupped her breast, and she arched her back as fire consumed her. He rolled the tip of her breast between his thumb and forefinger, playing with the nipple through the odd apparatus she wore called a “bra,” and she raised a leg, eager to feel him scoot closer. When he moved between her open legs, his member pressing against the juncture of her thighs, she dug her nails into his skin.

  The small noise he made spurred her on even more, and she ran her hands down his sides to his stomach. When he kissed a path down her neck to the top of her breasts, her heart skittered to a stop, and then raced as he explored every inch of her.

  He traced an invisible path from her left breast, down the jut of her hip then grasped her buttocks, melding their bodies tight together. While he rolled his hips, he latched his mouth on her nipple. She pulled his hair in a silent plea for him to desist. If he made her explode from want without removing a single article of clothing, she couldn’t even imagine the amazing need he would awake in her when she was naked

  He raised his face to hers, sitting on his haunches. His gaze dropped to her sprawled legs and the short skirt, which hid nothing from his view. He reached for her again, and she halted him by shaking her head.

  He clenched jaw. “Is something wrong?”

  Overtaken by a boldness she had no idea she possessed, she kneeled in front of him and clutched the hem of his shirt. “Yes,” she managed to say. “You have too many clothes on.”

  She pulled his shirt up his body, inch by slow inch, and he raised his arms in silent compliance, his hot stare not leaving hers until she lifted it over his head. She licked her lower lip at the heat she saw burning within him. Could he possibly be aching to have her? To move inside of her? If so, then….

  She’d made him that way.

  Nothing could have turned her on more. Thomas gripped her shirt and removed it as she had done to him, and she fought the urge to cover her breasts. He blinked at the contraption she wore and traced his fingers over the line of the garment, his touch feather light. Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, he turned her around.

  Accepting his gentle guidance, she peeked over her shoulder as his attention fell onto the clasp. He hesitated an inch from the fastener, his mouth tight, but then reached forward to release her breasts. The garment fell off her shoulders, and she let it hit the bed.

  She closed her lids, fighting for the composure to not collapse to the floor. When he stroked her breast, her already weak knees threatened to give way. His bare chest touched her, his chest hair tickling her naked skin as he reached around her. He closed his palms over her breasts, which fit into his hands, and she leaned against him to allow him better access. He traced circles around both her nipples while at the same time nipping the base of her neck.

  When hot desire rolled through her, Eleanor whimpered. Her clitoris tingled, begging to be touched, while her nipples pulsed wantonly against his palms. He spun her around, so she landed flat on the bed, and he rested his hips between her spread legs. His fingers tangled in her hair, he leaned in and whispered, “You torture me with your beauty. I fear I will lose all control and shame myself in front of you.”

  She had no idea what he meant by those words, but Lord, she liked the sound of it. Leaning up on her elbows, she kissed him, thrusting her tongue in his mouth in a bold move she hoped would incite him even more. He growled, fumbling with her skirt to throw it up over her hips as he sought out her heat.

  When he pressed a thumb to her aching core, a place no one besides herself had dared to touch before, she froze. After the shock wore off, pleasure took its place, making her tremble. Her muscles tensed in a delightful reaction to his soft caresses. The few times she’d awoken from a dream of him kissing her, her hand pressed against herself, had felt nothing like this. Nothing compared to this.

  He plunged a finger inside her and she cried out, raising her hips to get closer to him. Briefly, she worried that he would somehow know she wasn’t experienced—or would stop. But whatever he did to her took away all conscious thought, and she feared it might kill her. Could she survive this type of pleasure much longer?

  He groaned and surged into her again, this time harder. “You’re wet for me, Eleanor. I need you now.”

  She nodded and he leapt off of her to undress. Though she didn’t know much about making love, she knew he needed to be naked to finish the task. She should unclothe herself as well. If his touch had felt so delicious, his manhood promised to be ten times better. As he wrestled out of his clothing, she sat upright and crawled across the bed to the nightstand.

  “Wait! We need to use, uh….” Eleanor fought to remember the word Madame had given the item she was supposed to use to prevent pregnancy. “A…condom!”

  She grabbed it off the nightstand and gave it to him. He ripped it open, and she watched in fascination when he held it in front of his member. He fumbled a little bit until it rolled on, from the tip to the base. She could see his skin through the condom and gulped in air, feeling as if there weren’t enough in the world for her to ever feel normal again.

  The hugeness of his shaft sent a quiver to her middle, intermingling with fear. Would all of that fit?

  Scooting away from him on the bed, she swallowed hard. “Maybe we should slow down a bit. Take it easy.”

  Cocking his head, he sat down next to her and brushed a finger down her cheek. Smiling tenderly, he said, “We can go as slow as you’d like. I will take my time, I promise.” He brushed his lips against hers once. Twice. Teasing her into leaning closer to him. Into wanting more.

  The feverish desire he had awoken in her before returned full force, and she moved closer, eager to feel his skin brush hers again. Tracing the contours of his chest, she marveled at the play of muscle and hair. So crisp and hard, yet at the same time silky smooth.

  After a moment’s indecision, she caressed his abdomen. His abs jumped under her light touch, and she exulted at the power she had over him.

  His kisses distracted her while he removed first her skirt, and then her underthings. When his lips closed around her nipple, she writhed against the cool sheets. Or maybe they only felt cold because she was on fire—burning for him.

  His hand returned to massage the sensitive bud at the core of her womanhood. Urgency overtook her, one she didn’t understand, and her hips moved in a search for something that could soothe the hunger coursing over her.

  She needed…something.

  She needed to figure out what that something was. Now.

  “Please, Thomas,” she begged.

  She had no clue what she asked for, but hoped to God he’d know. He shifted his weight so something probed her, and she lifted her hips in excitement. Maybe this is what she wanted.

  Groaning, he thrust into her, and instead of the pleasure she’d been anticipating, pain rocked her. She cried out, caught by surprise at the unexpected discomfort, and he froze in horror.

  “Bloody hell, you’re a virgin?” Eyes wide, he started to withdraw from her, but she closed her legs around his waist.

  “Don’t,” she cried. “Don’t leave me. I want…I need….” She tilted her hips and groaned at the pleasure her movement made.

  “Jesus.” He clenched his jaw as he moved in unison with her. Her legs tightened around him, and she shifted agai
n to see if the pleasure continued. If anything, it grew stronger.

  More insistent.

  Thomas plunged into her, and they began a rhythmic give and take of their bodies, making pressure build. It grew so strong she feared it would rip her apart. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second of the exquisite torture, something inside of her snapped, and pleasure spread over her body.

  She collapsed into the mattress, and he pushed into her harder. Throwing his head back, his muscles tightened and he cried, “Eleanor!”

  When he threw his head back, she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips and drew him in deeper, marveling at the sensation of his pulsing climax. He dropped to her side, dragging her with him so she lay within the crook of his arm. They didn’t speak, as they caught their breath. He didn’t release his hold on her until she traced a design on his chest. He grabbed her fingers and held them still, meeting her eyes with a frown.

  “Why? Why did you give me your innocence?” He dragged a hand down his face and let out a growl. “That’s something you should have given your husband. Not a stranger. Not me.”

  She forced a laugh. “You sound a bit old-fashioned, don’t you agree?”

  He tensed, and she couldn’t help but smirk at her quick thinking. If she didn’t know better, even she would believe that she came from this new, modern world. The new world where sex was traded freely without guilt.

  She sat up and stared at a picture on the wall, an oil painting of a mother and her child. “Nowadays, a woman doesn’t reach my age without taking a lover or two.”

  “Then why haven’t you?” He sat up as well and grabbed his shirt to thrust it at her. “Put this on.”

  Confused at his behavior, Eleanor pulled it over her head, shoving her arms through the sleeves. She looked down at the shirt, fighting back a laugh. The garment was far too large on her and covered more of her skin than her previous outfit had.

  “I kept waiting for the right man to fancy me.” You. “But he…loved another. No one else caught my attention, and I got to a point where no one even noticed me any longer. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and enjoy a night of fun. Why should I hang onto a senseless symbol of purity if I’ll never even have a chance to marry?”