“That was splendid!” she exclaimed, laughing with pure joy as she turned her horse back toward him.
Damon, didn't reply. Instead, he sat unmoving, watching her intently, his gaze riveted on her face.
At his continued silence, Eleanor's laughter faded while her pique reached its limit. “It is an incredibly beautiful day, Damon, but your dour mood is threatening to spoil any enjoyment of it.”
To her surprise, he acknowledged her complaint with a slow nod. “You are right, of course. I apologize.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “I can understand if you are in no mood for conversation, considering how much you imbibed last night, but you might make an effort to be pleasant.”
His slow smile was completely disarming. “I agree, Elle. And I sincerely beg your pardon. But actually, my mood has little to do with the aftereffects of inebriation. You are much more to blame.”
Her chin rose. “Pray, how am
“I was struggling to keep my mind off my other condition.”
“The physical pain you are causing me.”
That took her aback. Had she hurt Damon somehow? Her gaze swept over him worriedly, yet he didn't look to be in pain. Instead, he sat his horse easily, while a lazy glint of humor entered his eyes that was almost sensual.
“I did not mean to cause you pain,” Eleanor said tentatively.
“You can't help it, sweetheart. You have aroused me unbearably. Now that I've had a taste of you, it only makes me want you more.”
Eleanor blinked at the change in his demeanor.
When she remained mute, Damon cocked his head, surveying her. “During our rides two years ago, I used to fantasize about pulling you down to the ground and tearing off your clothes and ravishing you, did you know that, love? Honor prevented me from indulging my fantasy then, but now that we are wed, there is nothing stopping us.”
Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. Damon's suggestion that he ravish her here and now was outrageously wicked, even if it held great appeal. No doubt he was trying to distract her from any deeper conversation, but at least his dark mood seemed to have dissipated.
“We are supposed to be repairing my reputation after our hasty marriage, must I remind you?” Elea nor said. “Frolicking naked in a meadow could lead to even more scandal.”
“You weren't concerned about scandal the first time we made love out-of-doors.”
“But we were sheltered by a balloon. You don't really expect us to take off our clothing out here in the open?” She waved her hand, gesturing at the sunlit meadow that surrounded them.
“There is no one here but the sheep, and they won't object.”
He was truly serious, Eleanor realized, feeling a thrilling little shock course through her. Yet it shouldn't surprise her that Damon seemed unconcerned by the prospect of a fresh scandal. He was a wicked devil who broke all the rules and relished doing so.
“So now you are on intimate terms with sheep?” she parried.
His smile was swift and brilliant. “No. But I would very much like to be on intimate terms with you.”
The tender amusement glimmering in Damon's eyes warmed Eleanor down to her soul, yet from Fanny's counsel, she knew better than to surrender too easily.
“Someone could come,” she contended, keeping her tone light.
“We will be able to see anyone from a long way away.”
“The grass is still wet from the storm.”
“Trust me, I can handle the challenge.”
“How?”
“By taking you standing up.”
She sent Damon a deliberately teasing glance. “That sounds rather uncomfortable.”
“I promise it won't be uncomfortable in the least, darling.”
When she offered no more arguments, he swung down from his horse and came around to assist her. Eleanor was transfixed by the look in his eyes when he reached up to grasp her by the waist and lift her from her saddle.
Letting her slide down his body, Damon bent close. His voice was an amused rumble against her ear as he murmured, “If you insist on being missish, we can make use of that copse of beeches at the top of the hill to provide a measure of concealment. I will even let you keep your clothing on.”
Clearly he was back to his usual provocative self- the same irresistible suitor who had swept her off her feet in the early days of their courtship. The transformation was very welcome, especially compared to the dark, brooding, anguished man he had been last evening. Eleanor was hard-pressed to deny him.
When she hesitated, he nipped at her earlobe. “You wanted to succor me last night. I still need succoring, sweet Eleanor.”
Strangely, beneath the seductiveness of his voice there was a serious undertone that suggested complete honesty. And when she drew back to search his face, his expression held a hint of that same vulnerability she had glimpsed last night.
Her heart melting, Eleanor smiled up at him. “How can I possibly refuse such an enticing offer?”
A spark kindled in his eyes at her reply. Leaving their horses to graze, Damon took her hand and led her up the slope of the grassy hillock, stopping just short of the copse.
When he began to remove the pins that held her shako hat in place, Eleanor raised her eyebrows. “I thought you said we would remain dressed.”
“We will, but I want to see your hair loose.”
Tossing her hat down, he wove his fingers through her curls and held her head still as he gazed down at her.
His face was filling the sky above her, blotting out the bright sun, but she could clearly see his eyes. The possessive hunger in the dark depths made heat uncoil inside her.
“What are you waiting for, my lord husband?” Eleanor queried, the question almost taunting.
He smiled, a promise, and answered by kissing her. Capturing her head between his hands, Damon slanted his mouth over hers and took her lips in a searing assault.
The very rawness of his male desire stole Eleanor's breath and set her heart racing. And that was before he guided her backward until she was pressed up against the trunk of a very large beech tree.
Those fervent kisses kept on coming while his hands dropped to her riding jacket and made short work of the buttons there. Then lifting her skirts, he pulled them up to bare her naked thighs.
When his fingers searched out the heart of her, he found her feminine entrance slick with the liquid evidence of her own need. Eleanor gasped as he slid his fingers into her ready wetness, scarcely believing how damp and swollen she already was for him. Her state of arousal evidently satisfied Damon, for when he broke off his kisses and drew back, his eyes smoldered darkly.
Something deep inside her flared in response to that primal look, and she fumbled for the front buttons of his breeches, fighting the reckless urge to rip them away. When she managed to open the front placket, his rigid phallus sprang free.
He was rock hard, magnificently long, Eleanor thought dazedly, curling her hand around him. Damon groaned as her fingers cupped his sex, and when she raised her face to his again, searching blindly for that clever mouth, he gave a growl of approval and took her lips hard.
His mouth was hot and fevered, devouring hers while he pushed aside the lapels of her jacket. His hands roamed her bodice, covering the swells of her breasts, as if all he cared about was touching her, exploring her.
Eleanor moaned, arching into his possessive caresses. Damon was stirring an aching pool of want inside her, making her long for him with a kind of primitive ferocity. But she needed more, craved more from him.
As if sensing her unspoken entreaty, he obliged her, moving his hands lower, gliding over her hips to grasp her buttocks. Bending his legs slightly, he lifted her up and slowly slid the engorged crest of his erection into her pulsing cleft.
The sensation of his claiming her was exquisite. Shuddering, Eleanor whimpered against his mouth and opened to him fully, desperate to take him deeper, to fill herself with his essence.
