Free Cheryl Holt by More Than Seduction

She punched him in the ribs.
    He snorted and jumped alert, blinking to orient himself and realizing where they were.
    “Eleanor? What the hell?”
    He had her pinned to him, and down below, she could distinguish his loins. He was aroused! She kicked him in the shin. “Let me go.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “Trying to sleep,” she contended, “since you wouldn’t wake up and depart.”
    She continued to struggle, but he wouldn’t ease his grasp so that she could regain some dignity by slipping away. Instead, he lifted a leg and draped it over hers, further increasing the intimacy.
    “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve lain with a woman?”
    “No. And I don’t want to know! Don’t you dare tell me!”
    He rolled onto her so she was trapped. They were wedged together, and they fit perfectly. He was flat where she was rounded, lean where she was plump. A clump of his rusty hair flopped down on his forehead, and he appeared dangerous, menacing, determined.
    “I guess you’ve missed having a man in your bed. Have you decided I’d do in a pinch?”
    “I’ve
decided
no such thing.”
    “It would serve you right if I proceeded.”
    “Hah! As if I’d let you!”
    “Do you assume you could prevent me? You’re not someinnocent girl! You’re a widow, for God’s sake! It’s risky to flirt. I’m not a gentleman. I could take you without batting an eye.” He halted, assessing her. “Or maybe that’s what you’re hoping will happen. That way, you can swive your lowly soldier with a clean conscience, then afterward, you can persuade yourself that it wasn’t your fault.”
    She opened her mouth to protest, when he stroked her breast, cupping it, tweaking the nipple so that it ached and throbbed.
    “Unhand me,” she declared, but without much vigor. Early on in her marriage, her husband had massaged her breasts, but he’d quickly lost interest. The lascivious caressing had fascinated her, and Charles was so adept!
    “No. I’ve been yearning to do this.”
    He had?
    He kissed her, and she’d meant to resist, when it dawned on her that she wanted this to transpire, too, and had for an eternity.
    She wrapped her arms around him, anchoring him to her, as he stuck his tongue into her mouth! The move both astonished and delighted her. He tasted like the wine they’d been drinking, and she reveled in the novel sensation. Harold’s kisses had been a wet, sloppy affair, usually initiated when he was very foxed, while Charles’s were all passion, hunger, craving. It was everything about which she’d ever fantasized, and he swept her away on a rising tide of carnality she’d never previously experienced.
    Without her being aware, he’d released the top buttons of her dress. The bodice was loose, and he slithered his fingers under her corset and chemise so that he was fondling her bare breast. He massaged it, stroked and petted it, in a fashion she’d never imagined, until she was writhing with agony and wishing he’d desist. It was so stimulating that it hurt.
    He abandoned her mouth, and traveled down her neck, dropping to her cleavage, when astoundingly, he tugged onher gown, exposing her bosom. Bold as brass, he sucked on her nipple, his teeth nipping and biting at it.
    The exploit stirred a fever in her blood. She wanted . . . wanted . . . she couldn’t describe what, but she was wild and reckless, ready to commit any incautious act without regard to the consequences.
    Much too rapidly, he was inching up her skirt, raising it past her knee. Soon, her privates would be revealed, and she knew what would come next. He’d unfasten his trousers, and impale her with his masculine rod.
    Was she prepared to fornicate with him? Fully clothed, with scarcely a word being exchanged between them?
    Her circumspection was clouded by a combination of the liquor, the isolation, and their odd situation, and she was about to order him to stop, when he reached the vee between her thighs.
    She wasn’t