“Shouldn’t damages be paid to me?” Eleanor asked, but the lawyer fussed at her about a woman’s place until she had no choice but to ignore him and move on.
They would settle into a Bridewell townhome in the fashionable Belgravia, the upkeep of which would be paid for by Eleanor’s dowry. The details didn’t matter to Eleanor. What mattered was that Tristan would be with her when she climbed the Matterhorn. That together, they could accomplish the impossible.
*
“You are dismissedfor the evening!” Eleanor called to her lady’s maid as she left. Tristan could hear her through the adjoining door of their marital suite. Everything felt new. The furniture was new, the gas lighting throughout the house was new. The indoor plumbing was new. He was the luckiest man in London, and he knew it well.
“Oh!” Eleanor started as she spotted him leering through the adjoining door. “I didn’t even hear you.”
“I’m certainly not going to languish all alone over here on my wedding night.”
“Nor would I have you do so, but...” Eleanor trailed off as she dug through the trunks she’d expressly asked her lady’s maid to leave alone. “I have some preparations to make.”
“I love preparations,” Tristan said, coming into her room and taking a seat.
Across the room, Eleanor pulled out small lengths of rope. “You know that I like to solve problems with knots.”
Tristan’s heart skipped a beat. “I would very much like to be the problem,” Tristan said, his throat already dry and his cock already at attention. He would be lying if he had not already had some very explicit fantasies of his bride in the weeks leading up to the wedding, some of which had involved her expertise with rope.
Eleanor smiled, her brown eyes focused on him and only him. His wife. His wife! As of this morning, the bishop proclaimed them man and wife, and if that was good enough for Mr. Piper, then Tristan would tell the whole world to sod off. Eleanor was his.
“I’m glad to hear it, because I thought of you as I designed these knots.” Eleanor went to the foot of the bed and startedtying. Tristan didn’t care. Nothing worked in his brain and frankly, he was all the better for it.
“Shall I take off my boots?”
Eleanor glanced up as she finished tying the next one. “Please.”
Tristan’s wee little mind, which, compared to Eleanor’s vast intelligence, creativity, and imagination was the size of a gnat’s, went into a flat buzzing sound. He stood in his stockinged feet and drifted over to the bed.
“May I help you with your stays?” he asked, hoping the answer was an enthusiastic yes.
Instead of that coquettish assent, she looked at him with almost pity. “Oh, no, my love. You won’t be touching me tonight.”
Panic seared through him. “I won’t?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’ll be touching you. Because you’re mine. Take off your shirt and lie down.”
Still, he trusted her, so he did as he was bid, watching her busy with finishing the knots on the far side of the bed. “Give me your hand.”
Her voice was thick with lust, and Tristan had no choice but to comply. He gave her his hand, and she slid a strip of silk around his wrist, cinching it tight. This is not what he expected on his wedding night, nor what he expected from his blushing bride. Did he have complaints? Absolutely not.
Tristan quickly pushed his hair away from his face as she rounded the bed, her eyes on the expanse of his bared chest. He wasn’t a particularly hairy individual, and of that, most was pale and golden, with the exception of that concentrated line that drifted from his navel down into his trousers. An area that seemed to fascinate Eleanor.
She bent down and kissed him deeply, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. He lost his mind at that moment, giving himselfup to his wife, as she had once given herself up to him. The reciprocity was heady. Neither of them was alone. As she broke off the kiss, he realized she’d slipped his other wrist into a silken knot and cinched it tight.
“Clever girl,” he said, hoping his admiration was obvious. It was obvious in other places. Like his trousers.
She smiled, kissing down his bare chest. “No interference. I get you all to myself.” She unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down to his knees. He helped kick them off as she slid the silk restraints around his ankles. He felt vulnerable, yes, lying naked on a bed with an erection waving about in the wind.
But Eleanor’s hands dragging up his legs made his eyes roll back in his head. “I want to take my time tonight, but I knew that if I let you free, we would focus on my desire, and not on my curiosity.”
“Your curiosity?” Tristan managed.
She slid one hand up his cock, which made him tense his arse. He couldn’t help it. He thrust into her warm, smooth palm. “I’ve had this inside me, yet I feel like I hadn’t gotten a proper look.” She conducted her experiment again, and again, he thrust up into her. “Does that feel good?”
He let out a strangled assent. Words were beyond him now. Gently, as if she were a lady leaning down to smell a rose, she licked his length.
“You did this for me, and I quite liked it.” She drew him all the way into her mouth, and he nearly blacked out.
