Her laugh held a sultry note and he recalled that he’d never intimidated Miss Trim.
“I love how overwhelmed I feel in your arms.” She licked her lips and he bit back a groan. That mannerism had provoked him for months. “The effect would be even more powerful if you took your shirt off.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He felt no awkwardness addressing her as a woman of his class. Outside in the workaday world, a gulf as wide as the Atlantic separated them. Here, in this quiet room, they met face to face as equals, united in desire.
His hands shook as he shrugged off coat, neckcloth, waistcoat, and finally his shirt.
“Oh.”
Did that tiny squeak indicate disappointment? The attention she fixed on his chest made him squirm. He was built like a prize fighter—in London, he regularly sparred at the fashionable boxing saloons. His size daunted most men. To Eleanor, he must seem a hulking ox.
Thick black hair covered his chest, proof of his animal nature. Dismay twisted his gut. Perhaps this first time, he should take her in darkness. True, he’d miss the wonder of seeing her, and he’d spent so many lonely nights imagining her naked. But someone so large and blatantly male must terrify a girl who had never known a man.
Dear God, wait until she saw his cock. If his chest made her nervous, she’d run screaming once she caught sight of it. He wasn’t a monster. He knew he was in proportion. But his proportions were notably generous. He’d managed previous encounters without injuring his partners, but Eleanor was a virgin. Perhaps he should ask her to close her eyes when he removed his breeches.
Still, she didn’t speak.
“I warned you,” he said gruffly when the silence became unbearable.
“Yes, you did,” she murmured, licking her lips again. Damn, he wished she’d stop doing that. It did awful things to his heart rate.
“I won’t crush you.”
At last she raised her eyes and delighted astonishment shuddered through him. “I don’t mind if you do.”
“Eleanor…” he said helplessly, seizing her shoulders.
Her expression dazzled him. “Do you have any idea what the sight of you does to me?”
“You’re not afraid?” he asked shakily, fingers curling into her shoulders.
Her laugh cracked. “Of course I’m afraid. I’ve never done this before. But I’m also… excited.”
“Oh, my darling.” Moved by her honesty, he kissed her with all the gratitude in his heart. Gratitude that she was here. Gratitude that she wanted him.
Through the kiss, he felt her tentative touch on his chest. One glancing connection before she snatched her hand away. His skin tightened. The next time, she lingered. Her other hand dared a quick caress. He groaned encouragement against her lips. She leaned in with more purpose.
Her lips left his to follow the path of her hands. The hot innocence of her kisses made him burn. Everywhere she touched, she branded him hers.
“Hell.”
She stopped kissing his nipples. “Don’t you like this?”
He tried to smile, but he’d wager it was a grimace. “Too much.”
“Good.” She scraped her teeth over his nipple and he stifled another oath. “A man’s body is so… interesting.”
In a fury of impatience, he tugged the demure dress over her head, leaving her in her plain white shift and corset. He wasn’t sure why, but her practical clothing made his heart constrict with emotion.
“You have no idea how these puritanical frocks have taunted me.” He flung the dress across the room. “I felt like a lecher every time I looked at you done out like a damned pilgrim, and all I wanted was to rip the rags from your back and toss you onto the desk.”
A gurgle of amusement escaped. “You’d have given Mr. Wells a fit.”
“Bugger Wells. With the slightest encouragement, I’d have jumped on you there and then.”
Against the unadorned linen, her skin was rich and creamy. Unable to resist tasting her, he nibbled a line down one shoulder. She tasted fresh and delicious. She smelled of warm woman and lemon soap. In his younger days, he’d pursued a courtesan or two. None of their jasmine or rose came near to stirring him the way Eleanor Trim’s clean scent did.
“You seemed so controlled.”