AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There seems to be a great deal of it, on the inside of your wrist. And here, on your forearm.” He continued to rub away the marks on her skin, real or not, while the tension spiraled through her body, centering down between her thighs.
Finally, he let go of her hand and met her gaze. He raised his hand to cup the side of her face. “You are beautiful beyond distraction, Ellie, even when you’re covered in grease.”
The inclination to shy away from the compliment warmed her cheeks but she met his gaze and smiled. “I wish I’d known sooner why you always looked at me. I wish I had not—”
“Ellie…”
Clamping her lips together at his look of warning, she nodded. There was no need for regrets, no need for wishing back time wasted. They were together now and soon would be husband and wife.
“Let us not waste any more time,” she pleaded.
Oliver lowered his head and pressed his lips gently against hers. Kisses still felt new to her, but she wanted to learn, so, so badly. Even if her moves felt fumbling and awkward, Oliver guided her, and her body responded with ease.
Before she knew what she was doing, Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to reach him. His hands moved to the small of her back and pulled her closer to him. She felt the warmth of his body seep into the front of her dress, and little tendrils of desire unfurled in her abdomen and shot out to every part of her body. She pushed herself closer against him.
Oliver responded by tightening his grip on her back and deepening the kiss. She let out a surprised squeal as he plunged his tongue into her mouth and began to mingle and dance with her own. Sweet Lord, she wanted Oliver to show her everything that could be done between a man and a woman, she wanted more of this.
She reached her hand up to run her fingers through his thick forest of curls. His dark brown locks felt like silk between her fingers. He pulled her tight against him and issued a groan.
∞∞∞
Oliver was dangerously close to going over the edge and completely losing hold of this situation. He certainly had not come here with this in mind—at least not until Eleanor had looked at him with those big, dark eyes and practically invited him to peruse her person.
Trust him to ask the boldest bluestocking in all of London to marry him.
He did try, truly he did. He kept the kisses light, and the touches to a minimum. But once she ran her fingers through his hair, his moves were dictated purely by desire. He pulled her up against the length of him, but that wasn’t enough.
He set her down and grabbed her waist, propping her up on the potter’s bench behind them. She smelled of oil, dirt, and a faint hint of lavender. Around them, tiny plants were housed in pots, and vines crawled up the sides of the building. Anyone could come in at any moment. It was almost too scandalous even for him. Yet he could not deny her.
Once she was seated, he now had a better angle to explore her neck. Moving away from her mouth, he laid kisses along her throat down to her delicate collarbone.
She let out a gasp as Oliver caressed her breast through the thick fabric of her bodice. He longed to rip the dress from her body and ravish her, but he had to take his time. He slowly kissed the swell of her breast along the edge of her dress, dipping his tongue in between her cleavage.
She moaned and her fingers were in his hair again, this time grabbing and pulling as she arched her back towards him. His manhood was as hard as stone and ached to be free from his breeches. Oliver let out a frustrated groan as his desire grew.
She dropped her hands immediately and looked down at him. “Are you hurt? Is it the wound?”
Oliver cupped the side of her face with his hands. As painful as it had been, the wound had been fairly superficial and healed swiftly, giving only the slightest pang every now and then.
“Not in the manner in which you think.”
She nodded, although she did not look entirely like she knew what he meant. “Shall we continue?”
Eleanor looked up at Oliver with hopeful eyes and he smiled. She was so damned innocent, and he was thoroughly ruining her by acting like a boorish rogue. He really ought to be proving himself better.
He kissed her chastely, trying to quell the burgeoning desire that continued to rise. As he moved away from her, Eleanor pulled him toward her and captured his lips, forcing her tongue in between them. She spread her legs so Oliver could move in between them, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
She brought her arms up around his neck and arched her back, forcing her breasts up against his chest. Images of Eleanor’s breasts, round and beautiful flitted through his mind. Not being able to help himself, Oliver began to undo the buttons of her gown. The fabric flapped open revealing her stays, which he began to untie expertly. She gripped his arms and tilted her head back as the edge of her bodice loosened and he pushed the fabric off of her shoulders. When she moved her arms out of the sleeves completely, the bodice of her gown fell away to reveal her slackened corset and the thin transparent fabric of her shift beneath, her nipples dark and prominent.
He looked into her eyes and caught an unmistakable glimpse of desire in them. He pushed her legs open even farther and thrust his hardness against her. She peered down at the front of his trousers and her eyes widened. A harsh curse nearly escaped him, and Oliver stepped away and took a few deep breaths, turning and pressing his knuckles against the wooden table lining one brick wall.
“We must stop. I can’t take your virtue before we are wed.”
Eleanor jumped off the bench and walked over to him, resting her cheek against his back and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I don’t care about my virtue, Oliver. It belongs to you.” She stood on her toes and whispered into his ear. “Ruin me.”
Turning slowly, Oliver met her gaze. Shyly, she moved her hand down to feel his hard manhood jutting out from the front of his breeches.
He let out a sharp hiss between his teeth and pulled her to him, a brow arched. “I can deny you nothing, Ellie.”
