him to take her here in this cozy sewing room and damn the consequences. He lifted her and strode to a side table beside the couch.
Eric grappled behind her and Sarah heard the contents of the table scatter across the floor. His hand lifted her gown and cool air kissed her legs. He stepped between her thighs and his rigid heat grazed her skin. Sarah moaned as he pushed it against her undergarments, teasing her with his length and hardness.
Eric pulled back and stared down at her, his eyes pools of heat and need.
“Tell me to stop.”
Sarah ran her hand up the lapels of his coat and felt the outline of the mapping device in one of his coat pockets. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “I can’t.”
His hand slid up her leg and touched her. Sarah bit her lip as he rubbed and teased her heated flesh. Their gazes locked, and she whimpered when he took her lips, his tongue mimicking what she wanted him to do with another part of his body. Especially where he touched her now …
Laughter sounded close by and they froze. Eric growled and stepped back, his gaze on the door. Sarah slid from the table, hastily pulling at her neckline and righting her skirts, straightening them as best she could.
Eric turned and silently watched her. “I think they’ve gone, but I should return you to the ball before you’re missed.”
Sarah walked over to a mirror hanging on the wall and looked at herself. Her skin was flushed, her lips red and swollen. She bit them and wondered how she could return looking like a woman thoroughly manhandled.
She pinned a stray lock of hair back into place and fought her desire to have him anyway. “You go, I’d like to stay here a moment.”
He came and stood behind her and kissed her neck. Goosebumps lifted on her skin. It would be so easy to lean into him, let him feel her response and desire to continue what they’d started.
“Good night, Sarah.”
Eric picked up his coat and left. Sarah slumped into the settees’ soft cushions. She fanned her skin with her hands and hoped she’d soon look respectable. Damn. His coat fell, but the device didn’t. She couldn’t even claim that as a balm for her frustration. That was her ticket out of Kent, so to speak. Talk about stuffing up royally! Yes, she was playing with fire, and Sarah had the definite sense she would be the one who ended up getting burned.
• • •
Eric strode toward the side exit at the end of the hall. The cool night air pricked his skin, and he welcomed the temperature change. Never had he ever been so close to deflowering a virgin.
“Christ,” he swore, running a hand through his hair as he rounded the front of the London home. He’d wanted to possess her, make her his in the most basic form. A shudder rocked his body, and he called for his carriage. Hopefully he could escape before someone found him in this state. Hard. Unfulfilled. Hungry, and not for a repast.
His carriage pulled up before him. Eric called for home and stepped inside. He threw himself onto the squabs and welcomed the dark, calming interior. The carriage weaved its way through the Mayfair streets and Eric gazed absently at the houses, not seeing any of them, only the woman he’d left in a sewing room, tousled and kissed within an inch of her life.
She was marvelous.
He’d not thought to ever feel anything after his brother died. And now that he did, it was a heady emotion and not one he wished to live without.
Eric clasped the leather strap as the carriage rounded a corner. So what was his next move?
Court her like the gentleman he was raised to be and run the risk of another man capturing her heart? Or seduce her and make her marry him as a guaranteed consequence? Both were very tempting. The carriage rocked to a halt before his home. Eric stepped down and strode to the door, opening it himself and startling the footman still making his way toward the threshold. Eric passed him his hat and coat and headed for
Eric grappled behind her and Sarah heard the contents of the table scatter across the floor. His hand lifted her gown and cool air kissed her legs. He stepped between her thighs and his rigid heat grazed her skin. Sarah moaned as he pushed it against her undergarments, teasing her with his length and hardness.
Eric pulled back and stared down at her, his eyes pools of heat and need.
“Tell me to stop.”
Sarah ran her hand up the lapels of his coat and felt the outline of the mapping device in one of his coat pockets. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “I can’t.”
His hand slid up her leg and touched her. Sarah bit her lip as he rubbed and teased her heated flesh. Their gazes locked, and she whimpered when he took her lips, his tongue mimicking what she wanted him to do with another part of his body. Especially where he touched her now …
Laughter sounded close by and they froze. Eric growled and stepped back, his gaze on the door. Sarah slid from the table, hastily pulling at her neckline and righting her skirts, straightening them as best she could.
Eric turned and silently watched her. “I think they’ve gone, but I should return you to the ball before you’re missed.”
Sarah walked over to a mirror hanging on the wall and looked at herself. Her skin was flushed, her lips red and swollen. She bit them and wondered how she could return looking like a woman thoroughly manhandled.
She pinned a stray lock of hair back into place and fought her desire to have him anyway. “You go, I’d like to stay here a moment.”
He came and stood behind her and kissed her neck. Goosebumps lifted on her skin. It would be so easy to lean into him, let him feel her response and desire to continue what they’d started.
“Good night, Sarah.”
Eric picked up his coat and left. Sarah slumped into the settees’ soft cushions. She fanned her skin with her hands and hoped she’d soon look respectable. Damn. His coat fell, but the device didn’t. She couldn’t even claim that as a balm for her frustration. That was her ticket out of Kent, so to speak. Talk about stuffing up royally! Yes, she was playing with fire, and Sarah had the definite sense she would be the one who ended up getting burned.
• • •
Eric strode toward the side exit at the end of the hall. The cool night air pricked his skin, and he welcomed the temperature change. Never had he ever been so close to deflowering a virgin.
“Christ,” he swore, running a hand through his hair as he rounded the front of the London home. He’d wanted to possess her, make her his in the most basic form. A shudder rocked his body, and he called for his carriage. Hopefully he could escape before someone found him in this state. Hard. Unfulfilled. Hungry, and not for a repast.
His carriage pulled up before him. Eric called for home and stepped inside. He threw himself onto the squabs and welcomed the dark, calming interior. The carriage weaved its way through the Mayfair streets and Eric gazed absently at the houses, not seeing any of them, only the woman he’d left in a sewing room, tousled and kissed within an inch of her life.
She was marvelous.
He’d not thought to ever feel anything after his brother died. And now that he did, it was a heady emotion and not one he wished to live without.
Eric clasped the leather strap as the carriage rounded a corner. So what was his next move?
Court her like the gentleman he was raised to be and run the risk of another man capturing her heart? Or seduce her and make her marry him as a guaranteed consequence? Both were very tempting. The carriage rocked to a halt before his home. Eric stepped down and strode to the door, opening it himself and startling the footman still making his way toward the threshold. Eric passed him his hat and coat and headed for
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