“I’ve had my share of lovers, but clearly not as many as he has. I never expected us to be a love match, nor do I care who he takes to bed, for I have no intention of ever inviting him into mine. And he technically isn’t my fiancé until his father reinstates our betrothal, but…” Her words dry up.
I finish them for her. “But any man in his right mind would stay true to you, regardless.”
She scowls. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Yet it’s true.”
Her blush deepens, and I wonder if she’s forgotten how well I can see in the dark. “Maybe I’m naive,” she rushes to say. “Maybe this is childish to admit, but…I…I’ve never had to overhear sounds of pleasure like that. It made me unsettled. Angry. Embarrassed.”
“You have every right to be angry. No one would feel easy about that situation. It’s not childish.”
She lifts her chin as if bolstered by my words of validation. “Thank you, Thorne.”
“Besides,” I say with a wicked grin, no longer able to stop myself from teasing now that she’s said her piece, “I know full well you’re no stranger to sounds of pleasure when it comes to your own.”
She nearly chokes on her next bite of cake. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”
I take a step closer, tucking my hands in my pockets to keep them at bay. “Maybe it’s time we talked about it. It won’t feel so taboo if we do.”
Her breaths grow sharper. Keeping her eyes on mine, she finishes her bite of cake and sets the plate off to the side. “I suppose.”
“It’s fitting, considering this is the very location that dream happened in.”
She glances around the room with renewed interest. “Stars, is it? Wait…now that I understand what my dreams really are, I know I must have enteredyourdream that night. Why were you dreaming of your own kitchen?”
I shrug. “I have baking dreams often. That was the first one a naked woman stumbled into, though.” I remember it now, the way her nude form appeared out of nowhere, leaning against my doorway, head thrown back in pleasure as she worked her fingers between her legs. It wasn’t until I cleared my throat that she noticed my presence. Then it was my turn to be caught off guard, for I was suddenly as naked as she was.
I inch closer. “What had you so…worked up that you entered my dream like that?”
“Does a lady need a reason to getworked up? I’m privy to the same sexual urges you are. Besides, I wasn’t in control. I never am at night, only during daydreams. Even then undesirable things tend to pop up.”
I’m guessing that means me. “Yes, but what had you feeling so out of control? What had you so on edge that dream-you wasn’t put off by a naked man showing up in your fantasy?”
“Oh, I was put off at first.” Her eyes dip down to my waist. “Then I saw your body’s response.”
A similar tightening in my trousers forms now as the memory of the dream builds in my mind. I can’t count the number of times I’ve replayed that dream in my mind for my own enjoyment, the heat of it carrying me through many lonely nights. My voice is thick as I say, “And you…stopped your activities. Walked up to me. Then sat on my counter. Just like this.” Stones, she was so daring then. So eager to finish what she’d begun, even with an audience.
Her breaths grow even sharper as her eyes sweep over me. “And you stood just like that.”
“No,” I say, closing another foot of space between us. My stomach tightens. “I stood right here.”
Her throat bobs. Once. Twice. “You asked to kiss me. Then to touch me. I said no.”
“And you told me to touch myself.”
“You obeyed.”
“Eagerly.”
We stare at each other for several long moments. I note the way she curls her fingers over the edge of the counter, arms quavering. My own grow tense in my pockets, begging to reach for her. What would she do if I planted them beside her, stepped between her legs, leaned in…
Punch me, most likely. And I can’t say I find that unpleasant.
Gritting my teeth, I take a deliberate step back. Then another.
Briony releases a slow exhale, her grip on the counter’s edge loosening.
My heart slams an uneven tempo as I force myself to move even farther away, to take her plate and stack it upon my own. I’m about to tell her we should go to bed—separately, of course—when she speaks.
