“I suppose,” he replied carefully, sensing the weightiness in the atmosphere around them.
“Sometimes, I feel as though I’ve barely lived at all,” she confessed in a soft murmur.
She stood before him now and flickered her gaze to his. She did not turn to set the blanket and pillow on the sofa. Nor did she extend them for him to take. She just stood there, clutching them to her chest, her gaze intent upon his.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment, his voice surprisingly gruff, as he stepped toward her.
Her yearning was palpable. For adventure, experience, the thrill of life.
He wasdesperateto give it to her.
Taking the bundle from her arms, he carelessly dropped it to the sofa beside him. A soft sound escaped her. It was breathy and soft and sweet. And it angled straight through him like a bolt of fire, spreading and consuming his better judgment.
In the next instant, she was in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eleanor wasn’t entirelycertain she hadn’t fallen into a dream.
Over the last days…as she’d searched for the viscount at every outing and never saw a hint of him, she’d forced herself to accept that the interlude they’d shared had been nothing but a wild fantasy. An experience disconnected from reality. Otherwise, she was forced to consider the very real consequences she preferred to ignore.
Obviously, tonight was simply an extension of that imaginary world.
Itcouldn’tbe possible that there had just been a dangerous intruder in her garden. Surely, the viscount hadn’t rushed in to save her like some guardian knight. She hadn’t just agreed to allow him to sleep only a room away from her own bed. And there was absolutely no possible way that he was currently pulling her into his arms in the middle of the night in her private sitting room.
None of it was real. None of it made any sense at all. It was all just an odd, fantastical, lovely dream. Fancies of her desperately yearning imagination.
As she softened against him, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her body to his, she accepted that she was quite content to drown in such imaginings if it meant she could feel as she did now.
Elated. Trembling. Hot and filled with delicate craving.
His mouth, when it covered hers, was consuming. His kiss, passionate and fierce and shameless. Though a lord of a fine family, hewas no gentleman in that moment. He was hungry. Possessive. And so very generous.
He gave her life with his kiss.
The thrust of his tongue and the edge of his teeth inspired a rush of beautiful and powerful sensations. Having lived so many years within the strict confines of her upbringing and the expectations of her family and future,thisfelt like the finest liberation. When with the viscount, Eleanor became unfettered and free. To feel as she did. To be who she was. To do what felt right in her blood without anyone else’s voice in her ear warning against consequences.
Dammit. If she wanted to feel the viscount’s mouth moving over hers, then she’d press her lips to his. If she craved the sensation of his large, strong, warm body, she’d bloody well wrap her arms around him and pull him close.
And—as she melted into the decadence of his hot wet kiss—if the tingling race of fire through her veins made her want more, she’d…
Well, what would she do? How brave and bold was she, really?
As his hands smoothed—heavy and firm and broad—up and down her back, molding the muscles of her shoulders and squeezing her waist before easing down to grip her buttocks and hold her hips firmly to his, Eleanor drew slightly back from the kiss.
Her breath was swift and her eyelids heavy.
The hard heat of his arousal was shamelessly evident against her belly. But it didn’t distress her. Not as it probably should have. It was all a dream, remember.
Knowing that he desired her—wanted her—perhaps,neededher…was an empowering aphrodisiac.
Not that she required one.
Everything inside her was already trembling in want. Her nerves were singing. Her pulse fluttering. Her body already molten with desire. Was she supposed to just walk away?
Removing one arm from around his neck, she reached down tograsp his wrist behind her back. Without saying anything, she gave a soft tug as she stepped out of his arms. Then she turned and led him across the sitting room and into her bedroom.
Aside from the brief movement as he twisted his wrist to clasp her hand possessively in his, he followed biddably.
