Page 76 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
By the time Thorne returned, she’d washed the pomade from her hair and her curls were drying. She wore one of his shirts, the well-worn one which smelled of him and hung almost to her knees, and when shefeltthe house change with his return, she smiled and scrambled to her feet.
When he shuffled through the door, clearly exhausted and preoccupied, she was waiting for him.
Oh, my darling. “You look ready to fall over,” she murmured, going to him.
Thorne blinked down at her, and she could tell, whatever he’d discovered tonight had changed him, somehow. Her heart ached for him, and what her own father had done to him. Him, and countless others. Taking his cheeks in her palms, she drew him down for a gentle kiss.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” she whispered, and he didn’t object when she led him to the chair in his dressing room.
It was a comfortable sort of routine; her helping him undress. The clothing he wore was different than usual, but it didn’t matter; he was still Thorne. His body was one she knew intimately and would always hold in her heart.
Neither of them spoke; they didn’t have to.
But they touched. Her fingers lingered against his skin,offering him comfort. And his hand rose to brush the backs of his fingers along her jaw, then down her throat to her collarbone, sweeping her curls from her shoulder.
Kit swallowed, certain it was just the charged air around them which aroused her this much. She hadn’t even kissed him yet, but her breathing caught in desperation. Each time she stepped around him, her thighs brushed together under the tails of his shirt she wore, sending a thrill ofneedthrough her core.
At last he stood before her, naked save for his stockings, and she nudged him backward until he backed into the chair and sat heavily. With a wicked smile and a flourish, Kit grabbed the hem of the shirt she wore and pulled it over her head, leaving her completely on display for him.
His gaze didn’t leave her, blue eyes filled with a banked fire and some other emotion she couldn’t identify.
Uncertainty, perhaps?
Well, it was up to her to make himcertain.
Kit placed her hands on his knees and lowered herself between them, slowly dragging her touch down his calves to roll off his stockings. He watched her closely, the entire time, Kit smiling teasingly to see how his cock had reacted to her touch.
The Supplicant Swan. That’s what this position had been called in Thorne’s naughty book, the one she described to him that very first night she’d held him as he’d let himself go.
Could she bring him to that point again?
Holding his gaze, she leaned forward, brushing the linen of her shirt against his knees as she reached for his cock. She didn’t allow him to look away until she lowered her mouth to him, and then sheheardhis reaction as she slid the thick head of his cock between her lips.
The little moan of surrender he made…Dio Benedetto, it was enough to send a flood of liquid desire to her core. Kit turnedher own groan into a hum, which must have caused an interesting vibration, because Thorne jerked under her.
“Kit,” he rasped, one hand going to her head as his knees fell back. “Christ, Kit.”
She took that as a good sign.
Her fingers encircled his member, spreading her saliva as she pushed him deeper into her mouth. Her other hand cupped his ballocks, her longest fingertip exploring farther back.
She felt him tightening under her ministrations, building toward his release. She wanted that; she wanted him to let go. Let it all go, all his worries, all his fears, all his sorrows. She wanted to be the one to do that for him.
So Kit poured her love into her ministrations. She licked, she sucked, she fondled. Above her, Thorne’s breathing grew ragged, then seemed to stop altogether, as if he were holding his breath.
Her fingers continued their exploration, and his thighs opened wider, allowing her the freedom.
And then, when her lips were wrapped around the base of his cock, and she could almost taste his seed in the back of her throat, her fingertip pressed into the puckered star of his arse, and Thorne sucked in a sudden, desperate breath.
With a wordless growl, he dug his fingers into her hair andpulled, urging her off him and away from what was clearly an overly sensitive area. For a moment she thought he meant to push her aside, but Thorne only pulled her over him.
When her thighs straddled his, he held her hips steady and thrustupward, into her wetness.
The suddenness of it made Kit suck in a gasp, then release her breath on a moan as she sunk down atop him.
Her weight rested on her toes, but she’d always loved this position, the freedom it offered her.
There was a muscle working in Thorne’s jaw, as if he foughtfor control.Not good enough. She wanted him to lose that control, to give it up.
