Page 69 of Tempting the Scoundrel
Thorne went still. Aye, he comprehended her words well enough. She trusted him with her body, but not her heart. A younger version of himself would have laughed at the idea of anunforgivable dishonesty—but here it was: pretending that making love to Alex was a meaningless act.
“Do you agree, Nick?” she repeated. This time, her words shook, the smallest crack along the exterior wall of her inner fortress. She was not as composed as she seemed. Her expression seemed to beseech him in a wordless plea:Say yes. Say yes.
No, he would not say the words. He’d promised her no lies.
He would show her the truth.
Thorne leaned forward —such a small space between them, and yet it seemed such an infinite distance—and captured her lips with his. Their kiss was soft at first, tentative. Exploring. They relearned the texture and taste of each other’s lips, and hers was an intoxicant. The sweetness of honey, the heat of fine Irish whiskey—made for him. Just for him. She made some soft noise and deepened the kiss, her hands gripping his shirt to pull him closer.
Slow.Slower. He wished to linger a moment, to assure himself that she wasn’t a dream. That this was real.
She would not have it. Alex nipped at his lower lip and pressed her hand to his erection. Nick’s control snapped—four years, four fucking years—and he pushed her against the desk. His lips met hers fiercely, and she made a rough sound in approval. No gentleness now, only frayed control and desperate need. She bit him once more, harder this time—a wordless demand.Now. Take me.
Thorne shoved the papers on his desk aside and lifted her. With a soft moan, she moved aside her petticoats and spread her thighs to pull him closer.
There. God yes, there.The slit in her drawers was a godsend. The heat of her, the way she ground against him, her ragged breath against his pulse—these were revelations. She was not so calm as she appeared; these layers of petticoats and corsetry and fabric were another part of her fortress. They were her armor. And beneath that armor, she desired him with the same savage intensity as he wanted her.
A ferocity gripped him, animal in its strength, and he knew from her response that he was not alone in this. Her fingernails grasped hard into his shirt; he could feel them down to his skin. Her lips tracked down the line of his jaw, her breath hot.
“This means nothing,” she repeated on a breath, setting her teeth against the side of his neck as her hands strayed to his trousers. “Nothing.”
“Then take it,” he said roughly as she flicked open his buttons. “Take your pleasure. Take it all.”
“Now.” Her voice was desperate. She guided his cock to her entrance. “Now, now,now.”
He pushed into her.Ah, god.He tipped his head back with a rough estimation of her name on his lips. She was warm and wet, and she bit him again, this time into the hard muscle of his shoulder. His response was just as savage, just as bestial, for he wished to bury himself inside her as far as he could go. He wanted to abolish the memory of any other lover she’d had; he wanted to lay some mark upon her bones. Something that said,remember me.
Remember me.
Remember me.
There was no finesse to their coupling. Nothing soft. This was need, pure and simple, their bodies craving contact. A demand of:this. Now. Faster. Harder.Her response gratified him, the hard grasp of her hand on his arse to urge his pace. Her tongue at his neck, the kisses she pressed to his jaw as he satisfied her, the rough words she breathed into his ear.
When she tipped her head back, her eyes were shut. He wondered what she thought of as her hips canted faster and faster to match his pace. What she imagined behind her lids. For that was another wall, wasn’t it? Hiding her pleasure from his view.
Another savage urge raced through him. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, thrusting hard. Her lids fluttered open, her expression dazed.Yes.“I want you to watch me fuck you.”
He wanted to keep saying it, keep commanding her.Look at me. Look at me.
Heat filled her gaze. It was honest, that look. The wall around her heart had some vulnerabilities, critical flaws in the bricks and mortar she had stacked to keep him out. He wanted to see it demolished.
Thorne reached between them and rubbed his fingers against her clitoris.
Alexandra scrabbled her nails across his back as she came. He didn’t last much longer. He climaxed with some soft moan that brought him back to himself: soft thighs around his waist, mouth at his throat, her whispered words there.
“You never answered me.”
This means nothing.
Do you agree?
Thorne dragged a hand through his hair and whispered, “I promised never to lie to you again.”
The reminder seemed to rouse her in some way. She gently pushed at his chest. Wordlessly, he stepped back as she slid off the desk and straightened her skirts. Thorne did the same with his own clothing.
Alex started for the connecting door, but paused with her hand on the knob. “Nick,” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
