Page 59 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
But that would only be true if this hypothetical person hadn’t been standing in the study with her; hadn’t heard the way Thorne’s voice had cracked slightly when he’d told her of thehorrorshe’d committed in the name of his country, only to learn he’d been working for a traitor.
Because at that moment, when Kit had fully understood what he was confessing to her and her entire body had frozen, mind frantically whirling…at that moment, Kit knew this wasn’t between a duke and his valet. This wasThorne, tellingKit, and it mattered.
By God, it mattered.
So she’d taken him in her arms and forced him to look in her eyes when she told him the truth. He didn’thaveto do this alone. He had friends, and he had her.
She’d move heaven and earth to keep him safe, she was now realizing.
You have me.
Do I?
Always.
So yes, the kiss was rather emotional, all things considered.
And then her hands were fumbling for his necktie, which was silly, considering she helped dress and undress this man every day. Thorne was on his feet now, and with one step, pressed her back against the desk.
Yes.
She could feel the hardness of his erection grinding against her pelvis. She stretched on her toes so that pressure was firmly where she wanted it, atop her clitoris, and didn’t bother hiding her groan.
He caught it and echoed it, then his hands were on her hips and he waslifting.
Her arse landed on the desk and her legs opened enough for him to step between them.
Thorne’s lips found her jaw, and she tipped her head back so he could nibble his way to her throat. “Kit…” His teeth closed around her earlobe, and she gasped before he released her. “Have I told ye how much I adore yer hair down?”
Her heels hooked around the back of his knees, pulling him closer. “I think I canfeelhow much.”
Thorne flexed his hips forward. “Och, this? Nay,thisis because I have the most delectable morsal spread in front of me, like a banquet.”
“I’ll wager,” she gasped, her own lips finding his throat as she tugged off his stupid necktie, “you—you say that to—oh God, Thorne.”
Somehow his hands had found their way inside her shirt, and now he rolled her nipples. When she moaned and scrambled to bring him closer, he chuckled slightly.
“Love, I have a confession.”
“Yes?” she gasped, lost in the sensations of his fingers.
“I want, I need to be inside ye, and I cannae wait to get ye upstairs.”
She froze, considering the implications. The door was closed, the butler always knocked. It really didn’t take her too long to come to a decision, as she was fairly certain her smalls were soaked already.
When her hands dropped to the buttons of her trousers, Thorne joined her.
He was the one to snap her braces off so she wouldn’t need to shrug out of the waistcoat completely, then lift her bodily from the desk so she could slide her trousers and smalls down.
As he placed her back down, her bare arse hit one of the careful stacks of paper she’d arranged earlier, and a curse hissed from her lips.
Now Thorne was dropping to his knees and Kit kicked at her shoes, trying to help him. He pulled first one off, then the other, but didn’t bother with her stockings.
Oh.
Oh, no he didn’t.
Thorne kissed the inside of her knee. Instinctively, she jerked away from his gentle touch, but by the time she did, his lips had already moved higher, and Kit sucked in a breath when she realized his intent.
