“That is –” She searched for the word through a considerable amount of internal noise. “Unfair.”
“Probably.” His thumb traced a slow arc against her hip.
“Thomas.”
He raised his head and looked at her, and his eyes were dark and absolutely certain, not an ounce of hurry or any care at all for time.
“I’ll give you anything you want if you admit it,” he said quietly.
She stared at him. “Admit what?”
“Admit that no one else can make you feel like this. Admit that you know that to be true and I’ll give you what you want,” he urged softly, nibbling at her earlobe.
Jane did not want to, fully aware of the implications of that statement. But then he touched her again and she knew she would have to, because she was growing far too dissatisfied. His fingers were like magic, sending sparks from one nerve end to another and she wanted more and more and it was unfair that he was keeping it from her.
She held out for a very respectable amount of time.
Then his mouth found the curve of her throat again and his fingers pressed even deeper and she stopped being stubborn,
“No one,” she rushed, breathy and undignified and entirely true. “No one else. No one could ever make me feel like this. No one but you, Thomas –please.”
Something moved through his expression – satisfaction, and beneath it something rawer, something that looked like relief. He pressed his lips to her jaw, gentler than before. Thomas gave her what she wanted and she fell apart moments later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jane could not get away from Thomas fast enough.
He seemed intent on keeping her close after that, the warmth between them adding to the weight in her bones that fought against the clarity dawning over her mind.
But she could hardly stay still, not when she had allowed herself to admit something so dangerous in the heat of their tryst.
“I am sorry, Thomas, but I have some matters to attend to,” she mumbled, painstakingly extracting herself from his hold.
He made a noise in complaint, sitting up and reaching for her hand as he asked,
“Must you see to them now?”
His voice was so soft, his touch so gentle and she could feel her resolve weakening at the sight of his pleading eyes. But she needed to steel her nerves, to cast her glance away in hopes that he would not notice her walls had crumbled too much, leaving her wide open for any and all attacks that might come her away.
“I must,” she murmured, pulling back and out of his reach, pretending she did so only to adjust her clothes.
Jane used the chance to wander to the door, lingering for a moment to look back at him, giving herself the chance to bask in the foolishness of her actions, and the sweet reprieve they had given her.
“Enjoy the rest your day, Thomas,” she told him softly.
And then she slipped out of the room.
In the empty hallway, she allowed herself to breathe, just once, deep enough to fill her lungs and clear her mind momentarily, before she began to hurry to her room.
She passed by startled maids who dropped into a curtsey once she had already moved from where they were standing, barely paying any mind to them. Jane was focused on getting to a place of solace, somewhere she could face her mistakes and let herself crumble.
Once she was in her room, she began to pace around, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of his touch because she had done something very, very bad.
“No one... No one else. No one could ever make me feel like this. No one but you, Thomas.”
She had said those words. She had parted her lips willingly, and admitted such, in the throes of passion.
The worst thing was... she had meant it. Every word had spilled out of her, as naturally as breathing and she could not take them back.
