That was it.He covered her mouth with his. Drove his tongue into that sweet, hot mouth and devoured her. Over and over, he delved, unrelenting. Her soft compliance made the skin beneath his hands burn like fire.
She jerked away and stood.
He looked up at her, cursing himself for his impatience. Panting heavily, to his disgust. “What are you doing?” His voice came out cracked, hoarse.
In a bold move, she grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. “Take off your pants.”
Arguing with such a delightful demand was insane, but… where was this coming from? Had she had lessons beneath his nose, while he’d traipsed about London looking for that absent brother of hers?
But she didn’t wait for him to comply—she went after the flap herself. He locked his hands around her slender wrists. “I want to know what you’re up to,” he growled. “Where you’re going with this?”
“Really, darling, I would think experience would tell you exactly where I was going with this.” Her teasing tone threatened to unman him.
He pushed her hands away and finished the deed himself. He kicked off his boots, tore off his trousers, and stripped the shirt off his back, tossing it across the room.
Lorelei’s hand landed softly in the center of his chest. And pushed.
Stunned, he fell back onto the settee. She stepped between his spread legs, her silk skirts brushing the insides of his thighs, rustling softly. She dropped to her knees. If a man were to swoon, now would be the time. The barely coherent thought rippled through his head as tapered nails scraped the inside of one thigh. His cock twitched.
“I might be inclined to explore this area with a touch.”
“You would?” he croaked out. How had his lips formed the question? “What else?”
Her lips brushed his knee. “Perhaps a taste here.”
His knee tingled.
Her fingers drifted forward to a goal he dared never dream, reached dangerously close to…
“Or here,” she whispered. Hot breath touched his scrotum, then a flick of her tongue. “Or…” She slid her mouth up the length of his cock, which stood at attention.
“Lorelei, darling, please, I beg you…” Her mouth covered the skin of the head. Blood pounded through his head, his cock.
He would do anything to keep his wife by his side. Anything.
Lorelei had no idea where this sudden nerve had come from. An ache filled her, driving the unbidden boldness. She’d missed her husband. Even if he didn’t love her, the fact that he’d spent time and money searching for Brandon heralded her respect. He truly cared for her, her feelings. It humbled her.
His hands slid into her hair, and pins scattered. She reveled in the odd texture of his rigid staff, jerking beneath her ministrations.
“Lorelei, I need to be inside you.” His voice was pained. He didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled her from her knees. Fought her skirts. He ripped her drawers away and lifted her over his lap.
Oh, God. She needed him too. She was wet and beyond ready and sank down on him, gasping. She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him. His breath heated her neck, and she gripped his hips with her knees. The first wave of passion shuddered through her in a burst of white stars. A scream hurled through her chest, but Thorne swallowed her cry, his response as urgent as her own. His hands dug into her buttocks, seating him deeper, his mouth never relinquishing hers, until his groan turned into a roaring, satisfied growl.
Lorelei’s forehead fell against his shoulder, her breath ragged and unsteady. What had she done?
“Thorne.” Her whisper sounded loud in the quiet library. Her hair must look a fright. His fingers tugged on escaped tendrils at her nape. His thumb traced her ear, her jawline. He brought her flaming face to his.
The lethargy that had taken hold shifted into another onslaught of desire. His tongue swiped just below her ear. His hands squeezed her hips and moved her to match his own twisting beneath her, his cock already hardening for another round. The rush of her pulse pounded through her ears, deafening her, blinding her to everything around her.
He tugged at the bodice of her serviceable gown, and moved his mouth over her breast, his tongue teasing her nipple. His hands moved up, cupping her head. He raised his lips to brush over hers… Then his hand stilled on her cheek, and her body froze. Something was wrong. “What—”
“Shush,” he whispered in her ear.
Then she heard it too. The front door in the foyer opened, then came rustling skirts and a muted command. Mortified, Lorelei heaved herself up, disengaging her body from Thorne’s.
A pained grunt met her ears. With Thorne’s assistance, she stood on shaking legs, her husband quickly pulling her bodice over her breast and righting her skirts. She spotted his shirt on the floor, near the table with their half-eaten meal. She dashed across the chamber, swooping it up and tossing it to him. He pulled it over his head. “My pants,” he said, stepping behind the settee.
“Oh. Of course.” She snatched up his breeches, but the door swung open. She dropped them at his feet and took a step forward, hiding him behind, and them beneath, her skirts.
