To Romance a Charming Rogue (Courtship Wars 4)

“Is this the way?” she asked.

“Yes,” Damon replied, his voice suddenly hoarse. “But stroke me harder.”

His hand moving over hers, he coaxed her to fondle his straining erection. When he gave a soft groan, Eleanor looked up and found herself caught in the smoldering heat of his gaze.

Ensnared, she was hard-pressed to breathe or to calm her own pounding pulse. A yearning filled her, a welling bubble of desire that threatened to burst inside her.

Struggling to gather her control, however, she reminded herself of her aim and offered Damon a smile that was both sweet and seductive, innocent and tantalizing, as she went on exploring the hardness and detail of him.

Damon was caught in her enchantment; his entire body clenched with the arousal that simple smile had awakened in him.

He had never seen Eleanor quite like this. She was vibrant and intoxicatingly alive, a sparkling-eyed beauty who radiated temptation.

When another groan escaped him, she asked almost tauntingly, “Does that hurt?”

“It's pure torment,” he answered truthfully.

“Good. I like making you feel the same torment you have made me feel.”

She was succeeding utterly, Damon decided. He felt as if he might burst. His primal impulse was to draw Elle beneath him and make violent love to her; he wanted it more than his next breath. And yet he knew he had to go slowly out of respect for her virginal state…

Then suddenly, she left off arousing him.

“I have a surprise for you,” Eleanor murmured, her voice husky.

“What surprise?”

Her eyes, vividly blue and fringed with black lashes, met his. Those eyes had a suspicious glimmer in them, Damon noticed.

“You will see soon enough,” she replied. “Close your eyes.”

Damon thought about disobeying. He was so aroused, he felt feverish, so he was in no mood for any more teasing or seductive games. But when Eleanor repeated her command, he dutifully shut his eyes and clenched his jaw at the savage ache that continued to twist and tighten his loins.

“No peeking now, my lord,” she added as he heard her rise from her kneeling position.

Something in her tone seemed off, which prompted Damon to ask, “Can I trust you, Elle?”

“Why certainly you may trust me. Just as much as I can trust you…”

Her voice had come from further away, from across the library. When he heard her unlock the door, Damon quickly opened his eyes. Eleanor had retreated across the room, carrying his shoes.

His gaze speared her when he guessed that her intent was to leave him. “Just where are you going, Eleanor?”

She smiled when she answered. “Back to the ballroom. I think I have exhibited enough unladylike behavior for one evening. And my aunt will doubtless be wondering what became of me.”

“Now you are worried about your aunt?”

“Actually, I wished to prevent you from returning to the ball. I doubt even you would dare go before such distinguished company barefoot.”

Damon half rose from the sofa, trying to judge whether or not he could reach her in time to rescue his shoes, then sank back down when he realized any attempt would be futile.

His lips twitched. “Elle, you little wretch. You meant all along to arouse me and leave me like this… in pain.”

“Well, yes.”

“That is not how I treated you the other night.”

“No. But you delight in provoking and flustering me. Turnabout is fair play, Damon.”