“Shhh!”
“I—I can’t help it,” he ground out. “A few inches lower, and I’d be inside you. You’re driving me mad.” To emphasize his point, he slid a hand under Jane’s rear and tilted her hips up to fit better against his.
It was so good, she could hardly bear it.
“Don’t stop.”
He groaned again, his hips finding a faster rhythm. She moved in time with him, gasping at the sensation that his shaft produced as it rubbed against her through the thin linen.
“Jane.” His mouth traced her neck, her jaw. “Forgive me. I can’t.”
He pulled away, fumbling with the buttons on his breeches. A moment later, he’d pulled his cock free and begun to stroke, his face contorting as Jane watched, stunned. He tugged faster, and faster still. Another instant, and he gave a sharp cry. He spilled his seed into a handkerchief that he’d summoned from his pockets, still gasping as his pleasure moved through him.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, his breath uneven. “I couldn’t hold back any longer. Let me do something for you.”
Eli kissed her again, though the edge was gone from it now. He was gentler, more measured. But his hand found that same spot where his cock had been pressed only a moment before, rubbing the heel of his palm over her.
“Oh.” The only sound that came out of her was a weak little cry of shock. How did this feel so good? She couldn’t have stopped him now for anything. “Oh, please.”
“I know what you need,” he murmured. He broke off from his ministrations to bunch her shift up about her waist and slip his fingers through the slit in her drawers. When he touched her again, it was his bare skin upon her most intimate parts.
Her former shyness had melted away. She felt wanton and very beautiful.
She rocked her hips toward Eli’s touch, and he seemed to understand how deep her need went, for he pressed his hand more firmly against her, his pace increasing. Jane wriggled against him, a whimper sliding free of her lips. She felt as though she would burst.
“There you are,” he breathed. “That’s it.”
“Eli,” she gasped. This was torture. “Eli,please.”
He rubbed the heel of his palm downward at the same moment his fingers inside her pressed up. With a cry, Jane clenched around him, her release wracking her with pleasure that seemed to stretch on and on. When she’d finally finished, Eli gently withdrew to stare at her in wonder.
“I could feel you when you climaxed,” he explained. “Squeezing my fingers.”
“Well yes.” Jane laughed, embarrassed. “That’s what happens.”
“I didn’t—” He broke off suddenly, looking flustered.
“Have you not…done this before? With other women?” He seemed so sure of himself when he’d touched her. She’d just assumed.
“I didn’t really have much experience before I joined the service,” he confessed. “I’d kissed a few girls, but not much more. And then I was a prisoner, so…” Eli shrugged apologetically. “Does it bother you?”
“Why should it bother me? I should think it’s much better than the alternative. I wouldn’t like to learn that you have a string of illegitimate children scattered across England and Greece.”
He laughed with her, the tension broken. “No danger of that.” When the amusement had passed from his face again, he added, “It’s different for a man, you know. The ladies will look down on a rakehell, but men look down on you if you’re not one. They presume you’re incapable or something. There’s no way not to be wrong on some count.”
“I suppose I never thought of it that way.” She spent so much timeworrying about her reputation as a woman. If the gambling club took off and became widespread knowledge, would the ton decide she was too risqué? What would happen if anyone suspected her affection for Eli? Had she appeared too forward in speaking her mind, or too reserved? The list was both endless and exhausting.
It seemed so easy for men in comparison. It had never occurred to her that they might feel societal pressure just as keenly.
“At least men cannot be ruined,” she observed.
Eli eased himself slowly down to lie beside her on the bed, studying her face as if to read her thoughts. There wasn’t much room on the narrow mattress, and he was so close that his breath stirred the hairs at her temple. She froze, trapped in the swirl of copper and amber flecks that lit the deeper brown of his eyes.
“I wouldn’t ruin you, Jane.”
“I believe you already have.”
“No,” he maintained, his tone gentle but certain. “No one is ruined by a kiss or a touch. It’s the act of being discarded and gossiped about that does it. I would never treat you that way.”
