Thornecliff had orchestrated the entire game, from start to finish.He had played them all.
Including her.
“You couldn’t have given me some sort of sign?”she grumbled, trying to pretend she wasn’t curling her arms around his neck.“I would have passed an easier few minutes if you’d let me know what you had planned.”
For the first time that entire evening, Thornecliff looked surprised.He even went so far as to allow his brows to lift.“Were you worried?You shouldn’t have been.”
“I know that now!”
“You knew it before.”Thornecliff stared down at her, gaze intense.“I told you.I never play a game unless I’m certain I’ll win.”
Lucy couldn’t help it.She had to kiss him.
* * *
At the last possible moment, Thorne recalled that he’d decided not to kiss Lucy while seducing her, lest she actually prove herself able to recognize The Gentle Rogue by his kiss.
He hadn’t reckoned with how much more difficult it would be to avoidbeing kissed.Especially when every nerve in his body was straining toward her.
He managed to turn his head to the side to avoid Lucy’s kiss.It took more willpower than he liked to admit.
To mask the motion, he fastened his lips to the delicate hinge of her jaw.Thatwas no hardship.
She was unbearably sweet there, the skin soft and fragrant with something like candied citron.Tart, juicy, sweet but with a bite to it.
He wanted to take a bite out of her.
From the way she molded herself to him, Lucy wouldn’t mind.Her pulse fluttered frantically under his mouth.Thorne couldn’t believe he was getting hard just from this, a little light petting and kissing in a semipublic setting.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Temptress that she was, Lucy tossed her head back to give him unfettered access to her throat, and of course Thorne took it.Because he’d never been offered an advantage he didn’t immediately seize.
Her back was supple beneath his palms, arching to bring her closer still, and Thorne groaned.When her legs shifted restlessly, he pressed that advantage too and instantly slid one of his own thighs between hers.
She parted around him with a shivering sigh and a clench of her hands on his shoulders.He imagined he could feel the heat of her core through the layers of fabric separating them.She writhed closer, shuddering at the intrusion of his hard thigh against her softness, and Thorne was overcome by a ferocious need for more of her.
Backing her toward the wall of the antechamber, Thorne buried his face in her silken hair and worked his thigh between hers until she squirmed and gave a shocked little moan into his shoulder.
She was so open and honest in her responses, nothing calculated in her at all.Her natural sensuality was like opium in Thorne’s veins, enveloping him in a haze of pleasure and sensation and greedy grasping formore.
As if echoing his thoughts, Lucy breathed, “More.I need…more.”
Thorne was on fire.His prick was an iron bar grinding into her lower belly and when she hitched her hips higher, chasing her peak, he almost thought this would be enough to pull his own from him.
Like a callow youth with his first doxy, he was about to spend in his trousers.
Clenching his jaw, Thorne pulled back far enough to stare down at Lucy’s flushed face.Lips bitten red and hair mussed, she was a vision of loveliness that made his erection throb.
Her dark brows were drawn together in a little frown.Her eyes were closed.
Was she thinking of someone else?Was she thinking of…him?
The Gentle Rogue.Thorne hated him with a sudden, visceral intensity that made him feel deranged.
He’d hated himself before, but never quite like this.
Shutting off his brain, Thorne slid one hand around the back of Lucy’s slim neck and let the other trail fingertips down the expanse of her creamy bosom to cup her breast through the bodice of her gown.
