Page 130 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Yes, this ritual—the undressing and getting ready for bed—was a routine by now. But tonight was different. Tonight was their wedding night.
Kit gasped when her husband snagged her hand and pulled her to him. He’d shed his jacket, his neckcloth, his waistcoat, even his shirt. In just a kilt, he looked like a warrior of ages past, all lean muscles and charming smile.
“Dance with me, wife,” he demanded, pulling her against him.
Kit didn’t object, but teased him as she lifted her hand to rest on his shoulder. “I thought we’d danced enough tonight?”
“Och, love,” he murmured as he swept her into movement. “I’llneverget enough dances with ye.”
Yes, this was one more thing she loved about him. How graceful, how elegant he was. He moved like an angel, and after years of Thorne being forced to use this grace for her father, Kit was delighted to dance with him, to feel him use his power for something which brought them both joy.
He was humming, and when she realized it was Vivaldi’sLa Primavera, she grinned and hummed right along, taking the harmony. Their voices mixed and teased and played just like her fingers on violin strings, until she felt the joy bubbling up from him and into her.
Or perhaps that was merely the anticipation of what was to come.
Because Kit had decided how to make tonight truly special. With the way she could feel his cock pressing against her belly, the way her core throbbed, she knew they were both ready for this.
Their dance ended with a kiss, which seemed to last forever. When he finally pulled away, Kit realized she was breathing heavily, her fingers curled around his shoulders to stay upright.
“Have I—” She had to clear her throat and start again. “Have I told you how handsome you are in a kilt?”
Her husband grinned. “Aye, but I could stand to hear it again.” But he didn’t give her the opportunity to respond, just lowered his lips to her shoulder, kissing a hot trail along her skin. Her chemise gaped open, and she was suddenly desperate to rid herself of it.
Through the thin linen, Thorne cupped her small breasts, as if marveling she’d ever hidden them. She knew he loved totease them, to “comfort” them, as he said. As if they were still grumpy at being bound for so long.
Kit loved the freedom of trousers and pockets, and still wore them occasionally, which her new staff here at Stroken had become accustomed to. But dresses…ah, dresses were, as Thorne said, good for easy access.
“Wait,” she commanded, stepping away from him.
She loved the way Thorne followed her instructions, obediently watching as she pulled the chemise over her head and stood proudly nude in front of him. His hungry gaze traveled over her body, and Kit felt herself heating from that look alone.
“Do you remember what I said to you, that first night in your chambers?”
Kitsawthe moment he realized what she was talking about,sawhim suck in a breath, almost felt his shoulders tense in anticipation. “The night—the night ye…talked to me?”
“Yes,” she murmured, holding his gaze as she stepped back toward the bed. “I talked to you. I told you about your future, about what was waiting for you.” The futureshewanted to be a part of, even if she hadn’t seen how at the time. “I told you about your wife.”
“Ye said…” He swallowed, eyes following her. “She’d wait for me on my bed.”
Kit backed up until her arse hit the mattress, but didn’t climb up. “I told you she’d love you, and want the best for you.”
“Aye,” he rasped hungrily. “And that love would bring pleasure.”
He remembered.“Touch yourself, Thorne,” she whispered. “Stroke yourself.”
The swiftness of his movements—yanking aside the kilt and reaching for his cock—proved he’d just been waiting for the command. Smiling wickedly, Kit watched the muscles in his throat tighten in anticipation as his palm and fingers stroked his hardness.
“Good,” she murmured, stepping toward him once more. “Good.” Her fingers rested on his chest, and she loved the way he shivered. “Now…”
Kit dropped her hand to his belt, working at it as he continued to work toward his own pleasure. Just the sight made her slick with desire, but she had a plan for tonight. When his kilt finally fell away, they both sighed in relief.
“I hope…ye’re no’ planning…on folding that…right now?”
She had to chuckle at his plea, and instead tossed the tartan aside. As Thorne stood there, pumping himself, she ran her palms across his chest. “Do you remember what else I said your wife would do?”
As she sank to her knees in front of him, Thorne groaned. “Christ, love, I dinnae think I—”
“Then don’tthink, husband,” Kit commanded, her lips inches from the weeping head of his cock. “Just feel.” She licked him. “Remember how you offered to let me borrowThe Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts?” She licked him again. “You had no idea how thoroughly I’d already read it.”
