Page 60 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
The Invasion of Brussels, page seventy-nine inThe Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts.
She’d stared atthatparticular page for a while, before sneaking it back into the library shelf where Thorne had hidden it. In the last few days of pleasure with him, Thorne hadn’t suggested—
Oh.
When his mouth found her wet cleft, she stopped thinking, stopped worrying. Thoughts and worries were impossible.
As his tongue slid along her core, Thorne made the most depraved noise, sounding like a starving man feasting. What had he called her? A delectable morsel?
Dio Benedetto, yes!
She was unused to the sensations, and realized she was trying to squeeze her thighs together, trapping him. Hell, that would be embarrassing, would it not? Imagine the headlines!
Duke of Stroken died today when his valet-slash-mistress asphyxiated him with her cunny. He died doing what he loved. Coming and going, as it were.
Oh Lord, she was getting light-headed.Breathe!
One of Thorne’s fingers joined his tongue, then a second. Her hands dropped to his head, fingers curling through his too-long hair to hold him in place.Yes.Yes!
It was strange and new and so-oh-so-perfect she couldn’t believe it. Had it been anyone else kneeling between her legs as her feet dangled over carpet worth more than she’d make in a decade, Kitwouldhave squeezed his head with her thighs, in an effort to pop it.
But Thorne…
She trusted Thorne, and heclearlyknew what he was doing. The sensations caused her to squirm against the leather of the desktop, and it was a testament to how distracted she was that Kit was able to ignore the fact she was likely ruining said leather.
One of his fingers slid inside her and Kit whimpered, rocking her pelvis forward as if to present him with better access. She could swear the little noise he made was a laugh, but he obliged her by joining the first finger with a second.
His digits weren’t as good as his cock, but his mouth made up for it, licking and stroking the parts of her which had only been touched by fingers before.
No man had ever paid this much attention to her. Oh, she’d found pleasure in the sexual act before—why else would she do it? But those men had been mere shadows compared to Thorne. They’d used her the same way she’d used them.
But Thorne…Thorne cared about her pleasure. He worshiped her body as if she were important, special.
He’d called herlove.
Kit’s fingers tightened their hold as her pleasure built. Part of her wanted to release him, to reach between her legs herself and press her fingers to the nub where she needed the pressure, but the rest was delighting in this sweet, sweet torture.
His fingers began to move, hooking forward once inside her to hit a secret spot that made her gasp. “Oh God, Thorne,yes,” she hissed. “You’re so good at this. Oh my God, you’reperfect.”
He was. He was perfect.
And then his mouth closed around her pearl, his teeth scraping it even as his tongue pressed roughly. It was exactly what she needed and Kit sucked in a breath, ready to explode.
Thorne surprised her. He pulled his fingers from her and thrust himself to his feet. Before she could understand what was happening—had he denied her an orgasm?—he stepped closer, moving between her thighs…and slid his cock into her slick opening.
It was all she needed.
Kit groaned as she came and Thorne caught the sound in a kiss, taking her pleasure and returning it tenfold. His thrustswere deliberate, torturous, dragging out her pleasure in the most delicious way.
As she slowly—so slowly—came down to earth, Thorne’s breathing increased. Kit wrapped her arms around his middle, pressed her ear against his chest, and whispered, “Come for me, Thorne. Now.”
He thrust once, twice, three more times. Then, with a growl, he pulled away, reached between their bodies, and grabbed his cock. Breathless, flushed, Kit peered downward in fascination as the throbbing head of his hard member spat a string of thick white seed over her curls.
Another stroke, and his cock shot another strand, until Kit realized she was leaning back to watch in fascination. It was remarkably erotic, the way his spend mixed with her curls. She wanted to reach down, to comb it through her hair and across her body and between her lips.
The sensation of him rubbing his cock along her swollen core spiked her pleasure again, and she realized she was rocking in time, trying to capture that remarkable bliss.
But when she met his gaze, Thorne’s eyes were full of…wonder? Something beautiful. Something which told her this was aboutmorethan pleasure.
