Outrageous Confessions of Lady Deborah Page 18

  ‘You know,’ Elliot said, getting to his feet, ‘you are the most surprising woman I have ever met.’ He pulled her from her chair, bowing low over her hand. ‘I hardly know what to say, save that I salute you and I thank you for finally confiding in me. It means a lot, truly.’ He turned her hand over and kissed her palm. ‘All those secrets. You make me feel like an open book.’

  ‘With many blank pages,’ Deborah said sarcastically. Relieved to have finally spoken, she was flattered and fluttered by his reaction. The intensity of his gaze made her acutely conscious of her body beneath her new gown. Her palm tingled where his lips had lingered.

  Elliot grinned and pushed back her sleeve to kiss her wrist. ‘There’s something I’m not clear about though,’ he said.

  ‘What is that?’ Deborah’s pulse fluttered under his mouth. Her corsets were laced too tight.

  ‘Bella is such a very experienced woman. Most inventive.’ Elliot’s smile was wicked. ‘I’m wondering where you got your material, because I’m pretty certain that it was not based on first-hand experience.’

  Deborah flushed. ‘If you must know, I found some books hidden in the library at Kinsail Manor. With pictures. That was the extent of my research.’

  Elliot chuckled. ‘So resourceful. I should have known.’

  ‘You’re not shocked?’

  ‘Did you think I would forbid you to darken my doorstep, condemn you for corrupting the morals of society? That would be a bit rich, coming from a housebreaker, don’t you think? I’m not shocked, but I am very, very intrigued. What sort of things does Bella get up to in the other books?’

  ‘Elliot! I can’t possibly…’

  ‘What about those ivory figures we stole? Anything like that?’

  ‘You’re enjoying this! I should have guessed you would!’ Deborah wanted to bite back the smile which plucked at the corners of her mouth in answer to that sensual curl of his lips, but she could not. It was delightful to discover that he found Bella as exciting as she did.

  ‘I am, I admit it.’ Elliot tucked Deborah’s hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail down the soft skin of her neck. ‘What a vivid imagination you must have. Do you have a favourite—situation?’

  Goosebumps rippled where he touched her. There was that tug of awareness between them as she met his eyes, and became conscious of the weight of his hand on her hip. ‘How can I? As you pointed out, my experience is rather limited.’

  Elliot caught his breath. ‘You do realise that is paramount to a challenge?’

  ‘I realise you would see it that way,’ Deborah said, tilting her chin. ‘I am such an innocent, I meant no such thing.’

  ‘Liar. Have I told you that you’re irresistible?’

  ‘Thus your remarkable exercise in constraint?’ She could feel the rumble of his laughter vibrating through his chest. The release of her confession was making her reckless. Deborah put her arms around Elliot’s neck and nestled closer. ‘I think you are confusing me with another.’

  ‘Bella?’ Elliot ran his hand up her side, from hip to waist to breast. ‘How much of you is in her, I wonder?’

  His hand settled on the curve of her breast. He was kissing the pulse at the base of her neck now. ‘If I were Bella,’ Deborah said, ‘what would you do to me?’

  ‘If you were Bella, it would be more a question of what you would do to me,’ Elliot said, nuzzling her ear lobe. ‘I should warn you, I’m not particularly keen on being tied and bound.’

  ‘Good God, you mean you’ve actually…’ Deborah bit her lip, but she was too fascinated to keep silent. ‘Was it—I mean, did you—what did you—I didn’t actually think that people—not in real life, I mean.’

  Elliot ran his fingers down the sweet curve of her spine. ‘You’d be surprised at what goes on behind the closed doors of the most respectable of houses.’

  And what had not gone on, Deborah thought grimly. Don’t think about that. She was Bella. Elliot thought she was Bella. For one last time, she would be Bella. ‘The doors of this respectable house are closed right now,’ she said, garnering her courage.

  Elliot tensed. He had waited so long for this moment that he could not allow himself to believe it was happening. Yet she seemed so different today. He kissed her lightly, though even that was enough to send the blood rushing to his groin. ‘Did you have any particular goings-on in mind?’

  ‘I rather thought I would leave that up to you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She was sure that she wanted him. She stroked the indent on her ring finger. Don’t think. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I am.’

  He pulled her roughly to him and kissed her, a brief, savage kiss that left her in no doubt of his need, before scooping her up into his arms. Yanking open the parlour door, he carried her effortlessly up the stairs. When he set her on her feet in her bedchamber, she was breathless, her heart pounding.

  Light filtered in through the window, showing up the spartan room, the simple bed with its plain cotton sheets, the polished boards bare save for the one rug beside the bed. Deborah plucked at her gown. When Bella needed to dispense with clothes, she did so miraculously, without the need for description. Should she take it off? Before the reality of the situation could intrude on her fantasy, Elliot pulled her close and she forgot all about such mundane things as undressing as he ran his hands up and down her spine.

  ‘You taste of summer,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘The freshness of a morning heady with the promise of heat.’ He wanted to plunge into her and drink deep, but he made himself sip until the tip of her tongue touched his, drawing him in, and the heat went straight to his groin.

  Elliot shrugged out of his coat, dropping it carelessly on to the floor. He turned Deborah around in his arms and began to unhook her gown, planting more kisses on the skin revealed by each button, turning her back to face him as he drew the long sleeves down over her arms, the bodice over her breasts, then the skirts over her hips. She was blushing, but she watched him intently, as he watched her.

  He kissed her neck, her throat, her shoulders, the creases in each elbow, the pulse at each wrist. He kissed the soft mounds of her breasts above her corset. When he turned her round again to undo the laces, he kissed her shoulder blades, the knot of her spine. His waistcoat was hastily discarded before he faced her once more. He kissed her mouth again. He could never have enough of her mouth.

  Elliot’s kisses made her weak with wanting. The way he looked at her left her in no doubt that her wanting was returned. The way he looked at her made her want him all the more. It was strange. Exciting. She tugged Elliot’s shirt free from his corduroys. He yanked it over his head and she inhaled sharply, seeing for the first time in the clear light of day what she had only touched in the dark of night. She touched him hesitantly, running her palms over the span of his shoulders, his chest, feeling the beat of his heart, the smoothness of his skin, the roughness of the smattering of hair which arrowed down to the fastening of his breeches. His nipples hardened, just like hers did. She hadn’t known that. The muscles in his back flexed under her touch. She looked up, and met his fierce gaze, and smiled. Then he kissed her again and it was hotter, somehow. More, somehow.

  Elliot scattered the pins from her hair over the floor, combing his fingers through the length of it. ‘I’ve imagined this,’ he said, kissing the valley between her breasts, ‘your hair spread out on the pillow behind you.’

  He untied the ribbons of her chemise and pulled it down over her arms, over her breasts. The cotton abraded her nipples, making her stomach clench, making her close her eyes as a shivering heat whispered over her. He lifted her on to the bed and removed her shoes. He untied her garters and removed her stockings. ‘The problem with being tied and bound,’ he said, cupping her breasts, ‘is that it is rather restricting.’ His thumbs caressed the hard tips of her nipples as he eased her on to her back. ‘But you know, that isn’t really a problem if you are content to let someone else provide the entertainment.’

&n
bsp; Before she realised what he was doing, he had her first wrist bound, tied with her garter to the cast-iron post. She tried to snatch her other hand away, but he caught it. ‘Trust me,’ he said, smiling one of his wicked smiles, ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

  He did not bind her ankles, but left her stretched on the bed, laid open to his gaze. His eyes blazed with desire as he looked at her, stripping her of embarrassment, leaving her naked and hot. The remainder of his clothes were dropped unceremoniously on to the floor. His erection was as thick and hard as she remembered it. She would not be able to touch him if he kept her like this. Was that good or bad?

  ‘I don’t want you to do anything,’ he said, as if he had read her thoughts. He kissed her briefly. ‘You know, there were two rather glaring omissions from Bella’s experiences in the book I read. Of course, I haven’t read them all, but I doubt very much that they were remedied in any of them.’

  He lay down on the bed beside her. Long legs, tightly packed muscles, almost but not quite touching. She had never lain naked like this before. She tried to turn towards him, but her bonds frustrated her. ‘What omissions?’

  Elliot kissed her again, leaning over her so that his chest brushed against her breasts. ‘Poor Bella. I can’t help feel that her victories are something of an anticlimax,’ he said, trailing his fingers over her breasts, her belly, back up to her breasts. ‘She takes so little pleasure from them, you see.’ He eased himself a little way down the bed to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.

  Deborah shivered. ‘You’re wrong,’ she said, fighting for control, ‘in the last book, the one I have just finished…’

  ‘Yes, but you wrote that after you met me,’ Elliot said, looking smug.

  He turned his attention to her other nipple, licking, sucking, teasing, so that Deborah moaned, arching up from the bed. She wanted to touch him. ‘What was the other thing?’

  Elliot leaned over her, covering her body with his. It felt so strange. Not frightening. Deeply exciting. Warm skin. Hard muscle. She could feel his erection, reassuringly, enticingly solid against her thigh. What would it be like to have him inside her? Her muscles clenched, making her shiver again.

  ‘The other thing.’ Elliot kissed his way down the valley between her breasts. ‘The other thing is a kiss.’

  His mouth was on her belly now.

  ‘A kiss? Bella has—she has lots of kisses.’

  Elliot looked up, his eyes gleaming. ‘Not this kind of kiss.’ In one fluid movement he slid between her legs, tilted her towards him and covered her sex with his mouth.

  Deborah cried out in shock. Elliot kissed her again, then his tongue slid into the crease at the top of her thigh and he kissed her there, too. She whimpered. He kissed the crease at the top of her other thigh. She whimpered again. Then his tongue slid inside her and she cried out.

  Elliot’s heart began to hammer so hard that he struggled to breath. She was so damp, so hot, so wet. He licked further into her folds and over the swollen nub of her. He slid his finger inside her as he licked, slowly, slowly, feeling her tighten and swell, feeling the corresponding rush of blood to his already hard shaft.

  He tried to regulate his breathing, but he couldn’t concentrate on it. Deborah was flushed. Her face. Her breasts. Her lids were heavy, almost closed. He slid his fingers higher and licked her. Thrust again and licked. She shuddered. His shaft pulsed in response. He licked. He circled. He sucked. He licked again.

  Deborah strained urgently at her ties. His tongue, his fingers, all seemed to collude, to centre, to tighten her deep inside, as if she were being wrung out. Thrust and lick and slide and tighten. Thrust and lick and slide and tighten. She bucked up underneath him and the world exploded, shattered, scattering glittering pieces of her high into the sky as she floated and burned beneath them. She could hear herself crying out far away, a feral, needy sound as she floated and reformed.

  She opened her eyes to find him looking at her, the way he looked at her making her shiver again, making her stretch luxuriously under his gaze, flaunting her body sinuously, like Bella did.

  Elliot caught his breath. Deborah lay beneath him, eyes heavy and dark, drugged with desire. Hair streaming over the pillow, so much better than he’d imagined. Her nipples were dark pink. The curls which covered her sex were dark blonde. He had never been so hard. He leaned over to untie her wrists and his erection brushed her belly. ‘Are you sure? Because if not, you need to say so now.’

  Deborah sat up, twining her arms and pressing her body sinuously against him, just as Bella did. Elliot’s hands skimmed her back, her bottom, back up to her breasts and he kissed her. Ravaging kisses. He tasted different. Of her, she realised, and it excited her, this most intimate sharing. His erection strained against her belly. His hand cupped her breast and she felt herself gathering anew, her climax building again before it had even ebbed. ‘I want you,’ she said, knowing that this time she really meant it, even though she was fast realising she had no idea what it meant. ‘I want you.’

  Her hands fluttered over his skin, sending little jolting shocks with every touch, which connected up, setting a flaring path to the ache of his erection. Elliot was beginning to doubt his ability to retain any sort of control, with his shaft almost screaming its need. Her mouth was hot, her hands needy. She was so delightfully naked. Had it ever been so glorious before, this skin on skin? He couldn’t remember. ‘Touch me,’ he said urgently, ‘I want you to touch me.’

  She wanted to, but she faltered, her lack of experience detracting from Bella’s confidence. As if he read her thoughts, Elliot took her hand and placed it on his shaft. Solid muscle, sheathed in silk. So hard. So potent-looking. She traced the length of it cautiously. Elliot groaned. Deborah snatched her hand back. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No. God, don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve waited.’ Elliot kissed her, wrapping her fingers around his girth, showing her how to stroke him, wondering how much of it he could take before he came. ‘This is what you’re doing to me,’ he said, slipping his finger back inside her and thrusting. ‘And this,’ he said, sliding up, over, then back inside. ‘This is what you do to me.’

  She could feel him pulsing under her caress. She stroked him, slowly tracing the path of silken skin to the friction of the tip. Elliot’s chest rose and fell sharply. His shaft thickened. The throbbing between her legs began to pulse, like the shaft in her hand. She stroked him again, astounded and enthralled at the way her touch made him respond, marvelling at the solidness of him, the heft of him. So different. So amazingly, delightfully different.

  ‘Deborah, if you keep doing that I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait.’ Elliot eased her on to her back, his self-control straining as he anticipated the darkly pink folds between her legs closing around him. He could feel her dampness, her heat, could feel the tightening beneath his erection which told him he was only just clinging on.

  He entered her slowly. She felt every inch of him as he eased his way in, clinging to him as she did so, shivering as she sheathed him. She could feel the tension in him, too, in his clenched shoulders, the sinews of his arms standing out. He was panting. Beads of sweat on his forehead. His chest heaved. She lay under him, not knowing what to do. Then he tilted her towards him, and she stopped thinking.

  His first thrust was pure pleasure. He took that slowly, too, leading her. She learned quickly, thrusting with him the next, finding a rhythm with the next, roused in a whole other way by the clinging of their bodies, her softness giving way to his hardness, yet holding him, melding with him. This time her climax was sudden and violent, a snapping of wires that made her cry out as Elliot thrust high inside her, made her wrap her legs around his waist, dig her nails into his back, arching up against him to hold him higher inside her until with one last deep thrust he came, too, withdrawing at the last possible moment, the force of his release making him cry out.

  * * *

  Deborah opened her eyes reluctantly. She was lying on the same
pillow as Elliot. They were all tangled up, too, arms and legs entwined, so she wasn’t quite sure who was what. His heart beat against hers. She felt too heavy to move. She had never been held thus. She had never felt like this. Bella had never felt like this. Sated.

  Elliot kissed her lingeringly and rolled on to his back. He smelled of sweat and sex. His hair was a wild

  tangle. She had never seen him look so good. He smiled at her, the curl of his mouth lazy, incredibly sensual. Just thinking about what he could do with that wonderful mouth made her shudder with delight. She couldn’t resist running her fingers over the rough hair on his chest, down to the ripple of muscles on his stomach.

  ‘I was right, wasn’t I?’ he said, catching her hand. ‘Now Bella knows something she did not.’ He began to work his way along her hand, kissing the tip of each finger.

  ‘You need not look so smug. It is most ungentlemanly of you,’ Deborah said, trying not to laugh.

  Elliot pulled her on top of him and ran his fingers down her spine, cupping the curve of her bottom. ‘You know perfectly well I am not a gentleman. Besides, I have every right to feel smug. There is no mistaking the look of a satisfied woman. You should be feeling rather smug yourself, you know.’

  ‘Should I? Why is that?’ Her breasts were pressed into his chest. Her hair trailed over them both. It was delicious, lying on top of him like this.

  ‘Because you have, lying beneath you, one very, very satisfied man.’

  Deborah beamed. ‘Really?’

  ‘Completely,’ Elliot said, kissing her. ‘At least,’ he said a few moments later, ‘I thought I was. Only I find that perhaps…’ He moved suggestively underneath her.

  ‘Elliot! So soon?’ Deborah exclaimed.

  He couldn’t help laughing, she seemed so genuinely surprised. ‘I do apologise, but you have only yourself to blame, you know. You are a diamond. Infinitely desirable. You said so yourself.’