Escape To Me

“I’m no longer an innocent. Problem solved.” Eleanor tossed her hair over her shoulders. “You’ve already relieved me of that unwanted purity, and now I want more of what you’ve shown me.”

“See? I’ve ruined you. I'm despicable.” He sank to the mattress and groaned. “How old are you, again?”

“Twenty-six. Hardly a debutante.” He froze at the familiar word, once again turning to scrutinize her. She kept her face impartial and soft—cursing her slip of the tongue. How many times would she utter a damning sentence in one night? “You have nothing to fear.”

“I still can’t touch you again, in all good faith. I never should have in the first place.”

He crossed his arms across his chest, glowering at her as if she’d somehow wronged him. She knew she had stricken his gentlemanly pride, in turn bringing out the guilt they enjoyed wallowing in.

Men.

“Okay, I understand.” Sheer instinct guided her. She smiled at him and then walked away in slow steps. She made sure to swing her bottom in the way that guaranteed a man would follow like a lost puppy. She stopped in the doorway, leaned on the wood, and glanced over her shoulder at his confused face. “It was nice meeting you, Thomas.”

He stood up, his lips pursed. “Wh-Where are you going?”

“To find someone else to sully me. As you pointed out, it shouldn’t be hard.” She walked out into the sitting quarters of the hotel room, calling over her shoulder, “I paid for a night of fun…and I shall have it.”

One. Two. Three.

Thomas snarled as images of a faceless man rising over Eleanor flashed before him. She writhed in the stranger’s arms, moaning her pleasure for all to hear. Damn it all to hell, enjoying the new man’s attentions even more than she had his. He had no idea when it happened, but she belonged to him. Which sounded insane in and of itself. She lived two hundred years in the future. It wasn’t as if he could court her.

Wait.

Had he pictured himself giving suit to this woman? No. He couldn’t be ready for such a step. He’d just lost Suzanne and couldn’t commit to a second marriage. But…maybe she could be his mistress? Could he convince her to travel to his time? To be his kept woman? Could he ask this of her, when he was the one who had ruined her good name in the first place, and not another man?

Not bloody likely.

Yet, he didn’t plan to stand by while she walked into the arms of a different man. For tonight, she belonged to him. He stalked across the room and caught up to her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he backed her against the doorframe.

Shoving aside recriminations and doubts, he cradled her face and kissed her with the pent up frustration and confusion he’d been feeling since he’d discovered her innocence.

She’d never lain with anyone but him, and he would make the night memorable. They’d have to move on in a few short hours. But until then, he’d kiss every square inch of her body. Starting with the one spot she’d been taunting him with glimpses of all night. Letting his mouth fall away from hers, he dropped to his knees. He reached up and caressed her thighs, enjoying the play of his fingers on her milky white skin.

“I’m going to do something shocking, but I promise you, it is commonplace among lovers. Do you trust me?” He made sure to keep his voice husky, willing her to acquiesce to his request. “Can you let me taste you?”

Her face paled, but she nodded before gripping his shoulders. “Yes, I trust you. Just don’t let me fall.”

He ducked his head to hide his smile. She would require more help standing by the time he finished with her, but he would make sure she didn’t fall.

Thomas hiked the shirt higher on her waist, and flicked his tongue against her clitoris. Her legs collapsed beneath her, but he’d been prepared for her shock at the sensations. He caught her in his arms and laid her on the plush carpet—unwilling to take even a moment away from their time together to walk her to the bed. He lowered his mouth once more, and she opened to him in readiness for his assault.

When he licked her again, she strained against him. Cupping her buttocks, he held her still as he lavished attention on her. She tasted of honey, and he savored every last bit she gave to him. Craved more. She tightened around him a little more with each stroke, until she froze, a cry breaking out on her lips. Her body went lax. Letting her down on the carpet, he put a condom on and rose over her, thrusting inside without a moment’s hesitation.

She raised her hips, taking all he had to give her, and then somehow finding a way to take more. Their pace rose to a crescendo, and he pressed his thumb against her already sensitive nub. When her muscles compressed around him, massaging his cock, he let out a hoarse cry, spilling his seed inside her. He dropped to his elbows, keeping his weight off her. It wouldn’t do to crush the girl. He kissed her damp temple, his arms trembling from the force of his release.

How could this woman make him act like a randy boy fresh out of Eton, eager to bury himself inside of her immediately after finishing? He’d been in more beds before his marriage than he could count, but with her he was revitalized. Rejuvenated. Alive.

As if he could start over and live out his happy-ever-after.

With her.

She wasn’t gentry, so he couldn’t get away with marrying her, but to hell with marriage. He had an heir anyway.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice breathy. He brushed another light kiss on her forehead and rolled onto his back. He hopped to his feet and helped her to rise as well.

“I’m thinking I have to take this damned thing off.” He walked into the washroom, and halted two steps in. Had he taken a wrong turn somewhere? Where was the bucket of water? The chamber pot? He heard Eleanor enter behind him, and spun with a smile.