No, Justin wouldn’t trouble Eleanor with any of that until he was sure, beyond any doubt, that Litchfield was, in fact, her biological father. And possibly not even then, either...

  He straightened his shoulders. ‘The decision has been made and tomorrow morning will be acted upon,’ Justin said firmly. ‘As such, I will see you at dinner this evening.’

  ‘I—yes. Of course, your Grace—’

  ‘I have repeatedly requested that you not call me that,’ he growled.

  Silky dark lashes lowered demurely over those expressive green eyes. ‘Then perhaps I should consider calling you “Uncle” Justin?’

  ‘Why, you little—!’ He did not even bother to finish the sentence as he strode furiously across the room towards her.

  Too late, Ellie realised her mistake in goading him, looking up just in time to see him powering towards her, fury blazing in those sapphire-blue eyes, causing her to step back even as she held her hands up defensively. ‘Your Gr—er—Sir—Justin—’

  ‘It’s too late for that, Eleanor!’ His arms moved about her waist as he pulled her in tightly against him, her hands trapped between the softness of her breasts and the muscled hardness of his chest. ‘You are fully aware,’ he grated, ‘my feelings towards you are far from avuncular!’

  How could she help but be aware of it when she could feel the evidence of his desire pressing into her abdomen!

  Heat suffused her cheeks, her legs starting to tremble, as she looked at his face and saw evidence of that same desire blazing in the depths of the glittering blue eyes glaring down at her, high cheekbones thrown into sharp relief by the tight clenching of his jaw. ‘You are crushing me, Your—Justin.’ She turned her hands and began to push against the hardness of his chest in an unsuccessful attempt to free herself.

  He bared his teeth in a humourless smile. ‘And so now you learn, too late, my dear, the lesson that baiting the tiger is much worse than simply awakening him!’

  She blinked. ‘I was only—I merely—’

  ‘I know exactly what you were doing, Eleanor—and this is my answer!’ His head swooped downwards as he captured her lips with his own even as he took a step forwards, taking Ellie with him.

  She gasped as her legs hit the mattress of the bed and she lost her balance, toppling backwards. Justin swiftly took full advantage of her parted lips in order to deepen the kiss, one of his hands moving to curve possessively about her chin as he followed her down, his heavier weight landing on top of her and crushing her into the mattress.

  Ellie was so stunned to find herself lying on her back on the bed, Justin’s body pressing intimately against hers, that she no longer fought the onslaught as his lips continued to devour hers. Instead, she felt compelled to return that fever of passion, her arms moving up and over his shoulders to allow her to entangle her fingers in the silky softness of the hair at his nape as she kissed him back.

  Quite when his punishing onslaught changed—when Justin’s lips became less demanding and instead sipped and tasted her own as he adjusted his position, the hardness of his arousal now pressing against her hip as one of his legs lay between hers, allowing the warmth of his hand to curve about the full softness of her breast—she had no idea.

  Nor did she care, as the thrill of arousal coursed through her, causing her breast to swell into the heat of his palm as the soft pad of his thumb sought, and unerringly found, and began to caress, the swollen and sensitive berry pressing against the soft material of her gown.

  Ellie felt hot, feverish, her throat arching as he continued to kiss and caress her, moving restlessly against him as she dampened between her thighs, groaning low in her throat, as his knee moved up to press gently against that sensitive nubbin she had recently discovered nestled there, even as his thumb and fingers plucked rhythmically at her now hardened and oh-so-sensitive nipple.

  He dragged his lips from hers to trail kisses hotly across her cheek and down her throat, his breath warm, arousing, against the heat of her flesh, that tingling in her breasts rising to fever pitch as his lips and tongue now tasted the swell visible above her gown and causing another rush of dampness between her thighs.

  ‘Justin!’ she cried out achingly as his hand left her breast.

  ‘Yes—Justin,’ he growled intensely, his hand sliding up her back. ‘Say it, Eleanor. Say it, damn it!’

  ‘Justin,’ she breathed obediently. ‘Oh God, Justin, Justin, Justin...!’ That last trailed off to a groan as she felt his tongue laving the throbbing, engorged tip of her bared breast, having no idea how that had come about, only knowing that it gave her pleasure beyond imagining as he now took that hardened tip fully into the moist heat of his mouth.

  Her fingers became entangled in the silkiness of his hair even as she arched up into that demanding mouth, sensations such as she had never known existed coursing through her as she felt his hand now cup her other bared breast, thumb and finger capturing the ripe tip, and causing exquisite pleasure as he continued to caress and then squeeze that tingling, aching fullness.

  Justin raised his head slightly, his movement releasing Eleanor’s nipple from his mouth with a softly audible pop as he looked down in satisfaction at the swollen berry. The nipple and aureole were coloured a deep rose, the nipple engorged from the ministrations of his mouth and tongue, and continuing to flower as he blew on it gently, his gaze heating as his hand now lifted her breast until that nipple brushed against his lips.

  He looked up into Eleanor’s face as he slowly ran his tongue skilfully against that responsive berry, groaning low in his throat as he saw she was looking back at him with fevered eyes, several tendrils of her hair having escaped their confines and falling enticingly about the warmth of her cheeks. She looked gloriously, wantonly, beautiful!

  And he should stop this now. Should put an end to this before it was too late—

  ‘Justin...?’ she moaned even as her fingers tightened in his hair and she arched her back, pushing her nipple between his parted lips and back into the moist heat of his mouth.

  All thoughts of stopping fled, his lashes lowering as he obediently suckled deeply, drawing that nipple up to the roof of his mouth, tongue flicking, teeth gently biting, at the same time as his hand caressed a path down to her thighs to her knees, pushing the material of her gown aside so that he might touch the bare, silken flesh beneath.

  The backs of her knees held the warmth of velvet, her thighs as smooth as silk, satin drawers posing no difficulty as Justin sought, and found, the slit in that material between her thighs, allowing his fingers to slip inside to gently stroke her swollen, wet folds.

  He dipped his fingers into that moisture even as he heard Eleanor’s gasp, half in shocked protest, half in pleasure, stroking her again and again, bathing his fingers in that moisture between each stroke, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth in the same rhythm, until she no longer protested but groaned her pleasure as she writhed beneath him.

  Justin was aware of the moment her hands fell down on to the bed beside her in surrender, of her head moving restlessly from side to side on the pillows, and he at last parted the silky folds and bared her sensitive and swollen nubbin to his caressing fingers and began to stroke in earnest. Softly and then harder, each time increasing the pressure, measuring his strokes to the rhythmic lifting of her hips, as she met each and every one of them, until he knew she was poised on the brink of a shattering release.

  ‘Oh, it is too much...!’ she gasped in protest, yet at the same time unable to stop herself from arching up into those caresses, her fingers once again entangled tightly in his hair as she held his mouth against her breast. ‘Justin, do something...!’

  Justin knew he was damned if he did. Damned if he did not. Because, he knew, whether he gave her the release she so obviously craved, or stopped this before that should happen, no doubt leaving her aching and wanting for hours afterwards, that she was never going to forgive him for arousing her to such a pitch that she lost control so completely she begged him for satisfaction.

  Ellie had never known such pleasure as this existed. Had never dreamt—never so much as guessed it was there for the taking.

  It really was too much, overwhelming even, as Justin turned his attention to her other breast, at the same time as he stroked between her thighs, fingers dipping into her sheath, but never quite entering, those moist fingers then moving higher to stroke the hardened nubbin above.

  Such a tiny nubbin of flesh, and one that she had barely been aware of until Justin touched her, and yet it was such pleasure to have him touch her there, stroking her, his fingertip now tapping lightly against it, driving her higher, and then higher still, taking her up to a plateau of exquisite pleasure, before just seconds later she felt herself falling over the edge and down into a sea of never-ending sensations.

  Again and again mindless pleasure washed over her, becoming the centre of her existence, all of her senses concentrated on those sensations: the feeling of her sheath as it pulsed and contracted, the fullness of that nubbin as it swelled and throbbed, the pleasure-pain of Justin’s lips and teeth capturing each of her nipples in turn, his breath so hot and arousing against her cooler flesh.

  Ellie had no idea how long it lasted, how many minutes, hours, had passed as she lost herself to that release as Justin demanded and took every last measure of that pleasure.

  But finally, immeasurable minutes later, he gentled those stroking fingers between her thighs, softened his tongue against her now throbbing and aching breasts, placing one last lingering kiss against each swollen tip before he rolled to one side and moved up on his elbow to look down at her. ‘I did not hurt you, did I?’

  The gruffness of his voice was a thrill in itself as it wound itself sinuously along Ellie’s already sensitive nerve-endings. Yet at the same time it broke the sensuous spell she had been under, allowing her to become aware of exactly what she had allowed to happen.

  The Duke of Royston had just made love to her, touched her, more pleasurably, more intimately than any man had ever dared to attempt before now. More intimately than Ellie should have allowed any man to touch her before her wedding night!

  Something that would never happen for her with the cynically arrogant Justin St Just, who wasn’t interested in loving his bride or having those feelings returned. And she had probably just added to that cynicism and arrogance, with her easy capitulation to his seduction!

  She scrambled up into a sitting position, blushing as she drew her legs up beneath her defensively, to clutch her gaping gown against her to cover her now painfully aching breasts. It allowed her to see that he was still fully and impeccably dressed, necktie still in place, waistcoat still buttoned, his hair only slightly tousled, from where her fingers had entwined and clutched at that silkiness in the throes of her pleasure, whereas he had obviously remained unmoved throughout!

  She drew in a shaky breath. ‘I asked you to leave some time ago.’

  ‘Eleanor—’

  ‘Get out!’ she instructed firmly as she averted her gaze from his, not wishing to see the disgust that must surely be in his eyes. Or perhaps it would be pity or triumph there and she knew she could not bear to suffer any of those emotions being directed towards her just now.

  Dear lord, she was in love with this man. A love she could never, must never, allow him to find out about. It would destroy her utterly.

  ‘Whatever you are thinking, Eleanor, I wish you to stop it this minute!’

  Her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she turned back to him. ‘Do not tell me what I should or should not think!’ she flared, falling back upon anger to hide her real emotions.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I could have stopped, should have stopped—indeed, I had thought of doing so—but you would not have thanked me for it if I had—’

  ‘I am not thanking you now!’

  ‘No,’ he accepted heavily before standing up and looking down at her bleakly. ‘Eleanor—’

  ‘You “could have stopped”? You “thought of doing so”?’ Ellie’s voice rose indignantly as she realised what he had just said, knowing that she’d had no will to call a halt, no strength to resist his caresses. But he had. Oh, yes, the arrogant Duke of Royston had remained completely in control of his own senses, whilst her feelings for him meant that she had melted at his first touch. How humiliating. ‘I told you to leave,’ she repeated woodenly.

  ‘Eleanor, listen to me, damn it!’ He frowned down at her in frustration. ‘If I had stopped you would now be berating me for leaving you in a state of dissatisfaction that would have clawed at you for hours, instead of which—’

  ‘Instead of which I can now claim to have been the latest recipient of the irresistible Duke of Royston’s expert lovemaking!’ she threw back.

  He drew in a sharp breath. ‘I refuse to take offence at your insults. I realise that you are...upset.’ He ran agitated hands through his hair, those golden waves instantly falling back into their artfully dishevelled style. As if he had made the gesture a hundred times before and knew its effect. After making love to a hundred different women, no doubt!

  It infuriated Ellie all over again to know that she was nothing more to this man than another notch on his bedpost. ‘Oh, by all means take offence,’ she invited scathingly. ‘For, I assure you, I am not so upset that I do not know exactly what I am saying when I warn you never to touch me ever again!’

  ‘We will talk of this when you are calmer—’

  ‘No, we will not,’ she insisted firmly.

  Too late, Justin realised the seriousness of the error he had made. Damn it, he was a man known for his icy control. A man who maintained his calm no matter what the provocation. A legendary control that had come about because of those lonely childhood years when he had felt the pain of his parents’ exclusion and which he had eventually only been able to live with by learning and adopting that coolness of temperament for which he was now so well known. But Justin knew, had always known, that deep inside himself lay something else entirely, a heat, a quickness of emotions which he had no control over whatsoever. And it seemed Eleanor brought out that heat in him when no one else had managed it.

  Tonight, with her, his control had been totally stripped away, his emotions so totally engaged in their lovemaking that his claim of thinking of stopping was an empty one. The unpalatable truth was, he could not have stopped kissing, caressing and making love to Eleanor if the devil himself had been at his back. That he had wanted, ached, to give her pleasure, as much as he had wanted to feel and see her in the throes of it, just because he had given it to her.

  He sighed. ‘It is a little naïve of you to expect us never to refer to this incident again—’ He broke off as she gave a bitter laugh.

  ‘Thanks to you I am no longer in the least naïve!’

  ‘Oh, yes, Eleanor, in all the ways that matter you are still very much an innocent,’ Justin argued, hands clenching into fists at his sides. ‘Nor have we done anything this evening that in the least damages that innocence, or your reputation in society.’

  She looked at him wordlessly for several long seconds before giving a slow shake of her head. ‘I have little or no regard for my reputation in society, sir, but my innocence is certainly now questionable.’

  ‘No—’

  ‘Yes,’ she hissed. ‘You, of all people, must know that I had no idea—no knowledge of—’ She stopped and gathered herself. ‘My maidenhead may indeed still be intact, but my innocence is not.’ Her cheeks were flushed. ‘Now, would you please, please leave me.’ Her voice finally wavered emotionally, the over-bright glitter in her eyes confirming that she was on the edge of tears.

  Tears, which Justin knew with a certainty, she would not wish him to see fall. ‘I trust you understand how impossible it is for me to even attempt to explain to my grandmother why I have changed my mind about moving into Royston House?’

  Eleanor’s shoulders straightened proudly. ‘I understand. Just as I am sure that the two of us are adult enough, and both have enough affection for the dowager duchess, if not for each other, to do everything in our power to be polite to one another whenever we are in her company or that of others.’

  Telling Justin, more surely than anything else could have done, that Eleanor had no intention of being in the least polite to him when they were alone...

  He breathed out his frustration. ‘Perhaps if you had listened to me when I advised you not to bait the tiger—’

  ‘Are you saying,’ Ellie interrupted with deceptive softness, ‘that you consider this as being just “another lesson” you felt the need to demonstrate?’

  He was taken aback. ‘No, I am merely—Eleanor, put down that cup!’ he instructed sharply as she turned to grab it up from its saucer. ‘Eleanor!’

  She did not so much as hesitate, drawing back her arm and launching the china cup across the bedchamber towards his arrogant head. Only to be thoroughly frustrated in that endeavour when he ducked at the last moment, allowing the cup to hit and smash against the door behind him.

  He straightened, his face thunderous. ‘My grandmother is very fond of those cups—’

  Determined not to be thwarted, Ellie immediately took up the saucer and threw that at him too, succeeding in giving him a glancing blow on the side of his arrogant head, at the same time as it dishevelled the fashionably styled hair that had so annoyed her just minutes ago. ‘How pleasant it is to know that my years of playing cricket with the local village children were not in vain!’ She smiled her satisfaction with her accuracy.