Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

F itz was playing with fire.

But then, so was Eliza. Watching her sit next to Brighton, a smile on her face as she listened to his stories, was placing him closer to the edge than he liked.

What edge that was, he wasn't sure, but he felt about ready to combust between his ire as well as his need to have Eliza beneath him again.

It was as if her every movement, her every word, her every damn breath was calling to him, making him want her more intensely than he had ever wanted another before.

Somewhere in the back of his mind where the rational thought lived, he knew that part of the reason she was so enjoying Brighton's stories was because they were about him, but he still had this intense, sudden need to possess all of her smiles, to protect them with another.

So, he decided it was time to have his own bit of fun.

He took possession of her thigh, inching his fingers upward, enjoying watching her face as she tried to hide her reaction to him.

There was the initial widening of her eyes, which was soon followed by the swallow, causing movement in the long column of her throat, and then the forced smile to hide what she was truly feeling.

But not once did she bring her hand down to cover his, nor give him any hint that she wanted him to stop. Which made him want her all the more. He ran his fingers over the silky fabric of her dress. He should know what material it was, having seven sisters, but truth be told, he didn't overly care if it was silk, satin, or muslin. It made no difference to him.

What he cared most about was that it was draped over her body, hugging her curves, hiding that beautiful skin from him.

It was soft, that was for certain, and welcomed his fingers as they ran over it until they reached the crease where her leg began. He lightly danced his fingers over her center before leaving it again, doused in satisfaction when she practically jumped.

"Are you well, Lady Eliza?" Lord Whitby said, interrupting his recitation of his lands to peer closely at her.

"Just fine," she said, her voice practically a squeak, and Fitz had to hide his smile behind his other hand as the man continued.

He wished he could find a way through this fabric to actually touch her, but there was no recourse for that – not here, not now.

There was only one thing to do about it – get everyone to bed and hope that he could find his way to her bedroom without anyone noticing him.

The question was whether either of them would make it until that time. She was biting her lip now, a slight sheen of perspiration shining on her forehead.

Fitz began rubbing faster, the muscles in his hand tightening as he kept his arm as still as possible so his actions wouldn't be obvious.

"Eliza, I say, you are looking rather peaked," her mother said, and when Eliza nodded, Fitz had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, although he decided he should best take pity on her and he stopped, finally allowing her peace. He thought she would be relieved, but her brow only tightened.

He had a fairly good idea why.

"You are right, Mother. I believe I am simply tired. I would not like to ruin the night, but I believe I should go lie down," she said, fanning her face with one hand.

Fitz liked the sound of that.

"I should come with you," her mother said, pushing back her chair.

"No!" Eliza exclaimed before softening her voice. "That is, I am fine. Thank you, Mother."

"Very well," her mother said. "If you do need me, though, please send someone for me."

"Of course," Eliza said, beginning to push out her chair. Brighton tried to stand, but the copious amount of port he had consumed slowed his actions, and Fitz was proud of himself for standing quickly enough to beat Brighton to help her.

"Allow me," he said, pulling back her chair, surreptitiously running his fingers over the bare skin of her neck, noting her shiver.

"Good night, everyone," she said, nodding at them as she walked out of the room.

Fitz waited but a moment before he tapped on his chin and said, "You know, I have a bottle of wine that I have been meaning to try for some time and this seems like the perfect occasion."

The footman nodded at him and made to leave, but Fitz held up a hand. "I have it saved somewhere special. I shall go myself to find the exact bottle. Please excuse me for one moment," he said, before walking out of the room as fast as he could, pleased to find that Eliza hadn't gone far. She turned around when he shut the door to the dining room.

"Fitz," she hissed as she strode up to him. "You?—"

"Come with me," he murmured, and she blinked up at him, her big blue eyes so wide that he nearly lost himself in their depths.

"Where?"

"Do you trust me?"

"No."

He laughed softly. "Come with me anyway?"

"Fine," she said warily, and he took her hand, leading her through the room to the other side so that no one could see them from the drawing room.

He led her through the breakfast room, into the kitchen and down a flight of stairs which she was sure were for the servants. Before rounding the corner at the bottom, he stopped her, placing a finger against her lips as he peeked around the corner to find that only the cook was present, her back to them. Fitz tilted his head and Eliza followed him, understanding the need for silence.

Fortunately, the door he was interested in was unlocked, likely due to its use during the dinner hour, and soon enough they entered the cool, dark room filled floor to ceiling with wine casks.

He appreciated the coolness of the wine cellar, for he had become rather heated upstairs. He turned to Eliza, barely able to see her in the dim light, and yet her features seemed to have been imprinted in his mind.

"What are we doing?" she whispered, and he hauled her toward him.

"I couldn't wait any longer. The butler's pantry held too many delicate items and our bedrooms were too far away," he said, surprised by the desperation in his voice.

"Wait for what?"

"For you," he said as he fiercely took her lips, claiming her as he had wanted to upstairs when Lord Brighton had looked upon her with such admiration.

He stepped her backward until she was pressed against the thick stone behind her, an oak table in the corner set up for wine tasting catching his eye. A lone flickering candle, obviously left by the butler who had been selecting their drinks for the evening, cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding a touch of mystery to the intimate setting.

Fitz's hands roamed over Eliza's curves with a hunger that had been building all evening. Her skin was silk beneath his fingertips, which longed for more.

Eliza's breath hitched beneath his lips as her fingers stroked his chest, over far more layers than he would have liked.

The scent of aged wine, mixed with the heady aroma of desire, surrounded them. Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, each one a promise of their unfolding passion.

Fitz swiveled her around and backed her toward the table before sweeping his arm across its surface, sending the ledger and a wine glass clattering to the floor. Fitz lowered himself to lift Eliza, sitting her on the edge of the table, her knees spread wide so that he could fit between them and trail urgent kisses along her jawline and down her neck.

She gasped, clutching his shoulders as he explored every inch of her delicate skin with fervor. Her taste was like a fine vintage wine, intoxicating and unforgettable.

Fitz deftly unfastened the laces of her gown one by one until the fabric fell away, revealing the creamy expanse of her bare skin. Eliza's chest rose and fell rapidly as she arched into his touch in a silent plea for more.

Fitz took a moment to appreciate her ample breasts, cupping them before tracing his tongue around each nipple, appreciating how they responded to him.

"Fitz," Eliza moaned, his name on her lips only spurring him on further.

Fitz's hands moved with purpose, skimming up her thighs beneath the fabric of her gown. Eliza's breath quickened as he inched the fabric higher, exposing her skin to his hungry gaze.

Fitz's lips found hers in a fervent kiss, his desire for her palpable in every stroke of his tongue.

He leaned back from her, their eyes locking as the realization swept over them that there was no turning back once they took the next step forward.

"Is this lesson four?" Eliza asked breathlessly.

Fitz chuckled hoarsely. "I think we're skipping right over a few lessons," he said. "Unless you'd rather not."

"Oh, I'd rather," she said. "I'd rather very much."

He sucked in a ragged breath as he was overcome, not by the passion between them but by how much he appreciated this woman and her forthright ways. He did not need to wonder or question when she had no qualms about telling him exactly what she wanted and needed.

And the fact that it was him she needed right now? Well, that was more than he could ever want.

No longer able to contain themselves, they eagerly undid the remaining fastenings on their clothes, and their breath quickened in unison at the anticipation of what was to come.

Fitz didn't miss Eliza's shaking hands as she unfastened the buttons of his trousers, revealing the hard evidence of his desire.

She gazed upon him, eyes wide and aroused, the flickering candlelight dancing in their depths. Her gaze mirrored his hunger, racing his heart even faster.

Their lips met once more with a fierceness that made them both gasp for breath. As their tongues danced and mingled, their fingers explored the curves and hollows of each other's bodies.

Fitz's hand moved to the small of Eliza's back, pulling her closer to him, his heart pounding in rhythm with hers. He kept his touch feather-light, dancing over the delicate skin at the back of her neck, her shiver as he played her body with his touch causing a sense of pride within him.

He slid his hands down her sides, grazing her hips and then reaching around to cup her bottom. She moaned softly, arching into him, and as much as Fitz wanted to savor this moment, he also knew that he couldn't wait any longer.

He lifted her gown, sliding it onto the table beside them as best he could, bunching the rest around her waist. He wished that he could have her completely bare beneath him, but their time was limited, and he would have to take what he could get.

He slid his hands up her silky thighs until he found the very center of her, running his fingers over her before sliding them inside, making sure that she was ready for him.

He found there were no concerns to be had there.

"Are you ready for me, Eliza?" he asked once more, needing to know.

"Yes, Fitz, please," she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

Holding her close, taking her lips with his, he notched himself against her, and with one powerful thrust, sent himself home.