She paused, and Robert knew with an unassailable certainty that his next two words would either seal what was building between them—or destroy it forever. Given what they both faced, they needed to trust each other completely—or walk away.
“I know.”
Eloise stilled, but her eyes never left his face. “Then you understand why I came here as I did. Why it is imperative that I find Timothy.”
“Yes.” He pulled his hand from hers, and as he did, Robert felt her fingers tremble against his palm, against his cheek. Her eyes widened, and he saw a shade of fear cross their amber depths, wondering what it had cost her to say these things. To be this open, this raw.
He leaned back, reached down, and slid his right hand beneath the hem of the chemise, his fingers circling her ankle with a slow, gentle touch. Eloise’s breath faltered, her eyes widening a little more as he drew his hand upward, caressing her calf and slipping beneath her knee. With his left hand, Robert pushed the fabric higher, above her hips, exposing her most intimate core as he raised her knee and pressed his lips against the soft skin just above it.
His kisses moved upward, alternating with quick nips, as his left hand parted her, his broad fingertips exploring the tender folds within, already moist with her arousal, swelling under his touch. She gasped as he brushed her sweet entrance, then pushed one finger inside. The musky aroma of her desire made him want to take her, claim her, his erection growing ever harder.
Instead he pulled away. She whimpered, but he smiled at her, tugging on the chemise. “Take this off. I want to look at you.”
She raised her hips and together they lifted the chemise up over her head and dropped it off the bed. Robert did the same with his shirt, his gaze never leaving her. It traveled down her lithe form, lingering on her small but firm breasts, the nipples, dark pink, the tips tightening into peaked buds. Her muscles were taut and smooth, but her stomach rounded slightly just above her mound, emphasizing the breadth of her hips and reminding Robert that this was not, in fact, a young girl, but a woman who knew her own mind, her own body, her own desires.
And that she desired him.
The same craving he had felt for her in his office returned, blazing and consuming. He started to lean toward her, but Eloise held out her hand, her voice husky with desire. “I wish to see you as well.” She sat up and reached for the buttons on his placket, her slender fingers still quivering.
He closed his hand around hers. “Let me.” She relented and he stood up, still watching her as he shed his trousers and small clothes. His erection emerged, dark and engorged, and Eloise took a deep shuddering breath. She reached out again, whispering, “Please.”
He nodded and her fingers closed around him. Every muscle clenched against his need to take her as he relished the feel of her hand on him. The deep curiosity on her face made him wonder exactly how experienced she was, especially when her hand loosened, her fingers stroking him.
Robert grabbed her wrist, swallowing hard, almost laughing at her look of disappointment. “No, my darling. You cannot do that unless you want this over much sooner than I do.”
She smiled then, and her nervousness waned. She lay back against the pillows and opened her arms, her hands gesturing for him to come to her. “No. I certainly do not want that.”
Robert moved over her, his mouth finding hers, letting the full depth of his passion move through him. His tongue prodded her lips and they parted, letting him delve deep and indulge his need to taste her, explore her. Bracing himself on one elbow, his hand trailed down her shoulder and side, then up to close on her breast, fingertips tightening on the taut bud. She writhed beneath him, a mewling growing deep within her throat, the sound spurring him to probe deeper, pinch harder. She arched against him, spreading her legs, one hand grasping at his back while the other tangled into his hair, tugging hard on the black curls.
His kisses moved down her neck to her other breast, and he toyed with both, lips teasing and pulling on one as his fingers massaged and pinched the other. Her dusky, hoarse alto whispered his name, and he peered up at her. Her breath came in tiny gasps. Her eyes were narrow, the pupils dilated, her lips red and swollen, and he had never seen a woman more beautiful or desirable in his life. He gave a quick lick to the underside of her breast, then slid down in the bed, spreading her, using his shoulder to lift one leg higher.
The thick brown curls of her sex were damp with her arousal, the folds beneath them peeking through, red and swollen and luscious. He parted her, using his fingertips to spread and stroke her, up and down, until her back arched and her hips rocked.
Robert could not help but smile at the deep satisfaction that came from giving this woman pleasure, of making her want more. He craved the sound of his name on her lips, the dark scent of her arousal, the fluids that his caresses enticed from her body. Caresses that continued, spreading her moisture over her, teasing the tender bud at the top of her sex, watching her grip the sheets as he deepened his efforts, slipping one finger, then two inside, stroking her as his tongue found that sensitive and swollen tip, flicking it back and forth.
Eloise whimpered and her entire body shivered, and Robert knew it was time. He eased away from her, which seemed to startle her at first. Her eyes flew open, and she shook her head once, then paused. She watched as he moved up over her, and she took his face in her hands as his hips settled between her thighs.
She nodded. “Yes.” She pressed her hips against his and drew her knees up and wide. “Please.”
He watched her face closely as he reached down and pressed his erection against her, spreading her wetness over his length, teasing yet preparing them both. Then he entered her, gently at first. It had been, indeed, “a very long time.” Timothy was now five and ten, and Robert knew in his soul that no man had touched her since his birth.
Eloise gasped as he pushed in farther, and he hesitated. “Tell me if it hurts.”
She tightened her grip on the back of his head. “It doesn’t. It feels... blissful.”
The word was the encouragement he needed. He moved slowly but pressed in fully, the feeling of being completely immersed in her the most remarkable pleasure he had ever known. He watched and waited as she adjusted to him, her muscles relaxing and opening to him. As he began to thrust, a deep flush spread over her chest and neck. That sweet mewling in her throat grew louder, breaking off only as she whispered his name, begging for more. Craving the same, Robert braced on his right arm, changing his angle, and increased the speed of his thrusts. Eloise let out a sharp cry, clinging to his shoulders, and he slid his left hand between them, finding that engorged bud. Her cry became a sob and he felt her release, her muscles constricting in waves around him, her body shuddering hard beneath him.
His own release was close, and he waited as long as he could before pulling away. He groaned as he moved off her, spending himself in the sheets next to her hips. He collapsed into the pillows, his breath coming in long gasps. Before he could recover, she was there, her skin to his, her breasts against his arm, her arms around him. She kissed his shoulder and his temple, murmuring words he could not understand. As his breathing eased, he shifted to his side, folding his arms around her. Eloise leaned against his chest, her breath warm on his flesh as her fingers fluttered over his back and hips.
Robert kissed the top of her head, then tangled his hands in her hair, urging her to look up at him. She did, and his lips brushed hers a half dozen times before she pressed her face into his neck, her grip on his back firm, as if she would never let him go.
“I never knew,” she whispered into the small hollow of his throat, “it could be like this.”
He grew still, her words making his heart ache. He knew she meant them as praise, but his immediate thought was of a young girl, lured, seduced, and used. Not pleasured or cherished. Or worshiped, in the way that Bill had worshiped Nora or his father did his mother. “You deserve even more.”
She eased away from him, gazing at his face, her expression rapt. “You are a remarkable man, Robert Ashton. And stronger than most people give you credit for. But Bill Campion knew it, which is why he trusted you. And I know it.” She traced a finger along his jawline. “Someday the world will know it.”
Robert examined her face, trying to memorize each freckle, each crinkle around her eyes, the dimple on her right cheek.What would it be like to have a woman like this by your side each day of your life?
