Cam’s breath was short, harsh. “Show me.”
She let the material slip from her fingers, and the gown fell to her waist. Underneath she wore only a sheer white shift, and he could see . . . she closed her eyes as heat rushed into her cheeks. He could see the outline of her breasts, and,dear God, her nipples, hard against the fine fabric, seeking his touch—
Eleanor shivered as his warm palms cupped her breasts.
“Open your eyes.”
She stole a glance at him from under her lashes. He continued to caress her, but his eyes were riveted to hers. “Look at me when I touch you.” He brushed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, once, more a breath than a touch.
Eleanor gasped and threw her head back, but he shifted closer to her and tangled a hand in the hair at the back of her neck to bring her gaze back to his. “No. Watch me.”
A strangled moan tore from her throat as he stroked her nipples again. She quivered in his arms, overwhelmed by the feel of his rough fingertips against the straining peaks.
His laugh was soft, dark. “Do you want me to touch you, Ellie?”
“Yes. I want you to touch me. Please, Cam.”
He groaned and trailed his hands from her breasts up the front of her neck in one smooth stroke. “Do you want more?” He plucked at the fabric of her shift, toying with the bow there.
Eleanor released a shaky breath. “Yes.”
He slid his fingers under the loose fabric and slipped it off her shoulders. “I do, too. So much more. I want everything from you.”
Cool air rushed over her breasts as he drew the shift down, baring her. She lifted her chin a fraction, fighting the urge to close her eyes again as his gaze dropped to her breasts. His mouth went slack and a hot flush of color swept across his cheekbones, and a surge of triumph washed over her, dizzying her.
“Eleanor.” All hints of teasing fell away as he fought to catch his breath, his cool composure shattered. Dear God, the way he looked at her . . . his gaze was hot, hungry. Eleanor’s pulse throbbed, sending a wild surge of blood to the warm, secret places of her body.
“Come here.” He crooked one long finger, beckoning to her, but he made no move to touch her. He simply waited, his green eyes glittering with desire.
She didn’t think to question him, or to disobey his command, but crawled across the bed to him. With one quick move he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugged her onto his lap, and buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. “God, your scent.” His low grown vibrated against her skin. “I’ve dreamed of this, of tasting you.”
In the next breath his mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, on her lips, the sensitive skin behind her ear, her neck, her throat. She wrapped her fingers in his chestnut hair and rose to her knees, urging him to take more, but he pulled away, took her chin between his fingers, and forced her gaze to his.
“I’m going to kiss you here.” He traced his finger around one swollen nipple. “Don’t close your eyes, and don’t look away. Watch, Eleanor—watch me when I put my mouth on you.”
Eleanor cried out as he caught a hard, pink nipple between his teeth and bit down gently. “Oh. Cam, I—I . . .”
“Shhh. Let me taste you.” His mouth closed over her nipple, his lips and tongue hot and rough, devouring her. He drew hard on the swollen bud, then—oh, God, he waslickingher with the tip of his tongue, darting over her nipple again and again, like a cat licking cream from a dish.
He pulled away at last when she began to tremble in his arms. She moaned a protest and reached for him, but he grasped her wrists in his hands and held them over her head, then eased her back flat against the bed. “Are you going to be mine?” His breath was hot against her ear, his words urgent.
His? Yes. For now, for this moment, she was his. Once this moment had passed . . . oh, she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter whether or not she knew the answer, or if she spoke the truth or a lie. All that mattered was this moment, and she would have promised him anything. “Yes.”
“Say it.” He lowered his head and dragged his tongue across her nipple again. “Tell me you’re mine.”
Eleanor sank her fingers into his hair and pulled him tighter against her breasts. “I’m yours, Cam.”
He froze for a moment, then drew in a deep, shuddering breath and buried his face in her neck. “Again. Say it again. You’re mine.”
The fierce possessiveness in his voice made her tremble, but even as her heart gave an anxious throb in her chest, she could deny him nothing. “Yes. Yours, Cam.”
He opened his mouth against her neck and sucked her tender flesh between his lips until her back bowed from the delicious torment, then his fingers went slack around her wrists. “Take off your gown.”
She looked up into his wicked green eyes. He’d make her yield in every way to him, and then he’d take . . .
He bit down on her earlobe when she hesitated, a tiny punishment. “Take off your gown and your shift.”
She shivered at the demand in his voice, but even as dark thoughts danced around the edges of her mind, she caught the mass of silk fabric bunched at her waist, her eyes on his. She raised her hips from the bed and slid her gown slowly, oh so slowly down her body, over her belly, her thighs—
