I knew the second Kit’s lips met mine that this was the best and worst idea.

The best idea, because I could already tell Kit knew what he was doing. Three seconds in, and I knew I’d forget Luke. For this afternoon, at least.

The worst idea, because Kit really knew what he was doing. I surrendered to him, my heart hammering in my chest as the shock and the excitement and the electricity of the moment held me captive. This was going to be dangerously good. What if I couldn’t control myself? My feelings?

I shoved the thought aside. The request had been stupid, yes. Fuck me. Honestly, who says stuff like that? But it had genuinely seemed like a good idea at the time. I was attracted to Kit. Why not give in, just once?

And I was desperate to forget Luke. Forget the hurt and the doubt and the longing that haunted me day and night.

Honestly, I didn’t think Kit would say yes. I’d seen the way he looked at me sometimes in class—with a softness in his eyes, a hint of interest. But I never would’ve guessed he wanted me like this. Weren’t princes exclusively interested in the beautiful offspring of billionaire real estate developers and their Swedish supermodel wives?

I guessed not.

Whatever our reasons, this hook up was happening. And I’d be damned if I didn’t enjoy it. Kit’s hand was on my face, tilting my head a little more to deepen the kiss. His mouth was hot and soft. He tasted clean; I picked up on a hint of something herbal, something that tasted like tea.

God, he was so British.

And God damn could he kiss. He drank me in, hungry and slow all at once, taking his time as he explored my lips, the corners of my mouth, my tongue. His fingertips tickled the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

When was the last time someone adored me like this? I hadn’t seen Luke since I’d left the states back in August. I guess I’d forgotten what it felt like to be kissed so well and touched so eagerly.

The growing heat between my legs throbbed at the idea of peeling his suit off. I bet he looked even better without it on. He had an athletic build, broad shoulders and a trim waist; his body was firm against mine. What princely sports did he have to thank for that? Polo? Shooting? Sailing, maybe?

I met him stroke for stroke, trying to deepen the kiss even further.

“Mine,” he growled against my mouth. “You’re mine, Em, and so is this kiss. Let me have you.”

A shiver moved up my spine. That authoritative edge in his voice just took on a whole new meaning. I liked it.

I liked it too much.

“Okay,” I said.

Even though Luke was the first guy I’d ever slept with, I’d fooled around with a couple of guys before him. They were all either hesitant to the point of annoyance or pushy to the point of making me uncomfortable. None of them had really known what he was doing.

But Kit. Kit definitely knew what he was doing. He was a man. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. I’d never experienced anything like him before.

It was incredibly arousing.

He tugged at my bottom lip. Then he trailed his mouth down to my neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there. I gasped as a wave of potent desire shot through me, goose bumps popping up on my arms and legs in its wake.

I was getting wet. Really, really wet. My clit throbbed.

My arms, still crossed, had been trapped between Kit and I. I uncrossed them, rotating my hands so they rested on his chest. I curled the lapels of his jacket in my fingers, gliding my thumbs over the silky fabric. Then I slipped one hand inside and put my palm on his shirt. The heat of his skin seeped through.

His heart was going wild.

Kit groaned, his breath hot on my neck.

“Get on the desk,” he said, and then he pulled away. Air, cold and unwelcome, rushed into the space where his body had just been. He towered over me, breathing hard.

I looked up at him. His blue eyes met mine. They were a little unfocused.

Hungry.

He hooked a finger into the knot of his tie and gave it a vicious tug.

My knees wobbled. He looked so fucking hot right then. The eyes, the shoulders, the tie—he was all coiled masculinity, seething with need and determination.

I didn’t know what he’d do next, or if—when—his control would snap. The idea that he could lose his shit at any moment scared me.

It turned me on to no end.

Now Kit was ripping the tie through its knot, the scrape of the silk loud between us.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and swallowed. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded. I wasn’t all right. Not by a mile.

I was overwhelmed. I needed him to touch me. Fuck me. Turn me inside out. His kiss had cleared my thoughts. I was all physical sensation. I was out of my head, and I didn’t want to go back there.

I didn’t want him to stop.

“Where do you want me on the desk?” I asked.

Kit nodded at the hulking mass of dull metal and wood. “Sit on the edge.”

Kit quietly locked the door while I cleared a spot on the desk and sat. I watched as he opened his bag and dug out a foil packet, slipping it into his pocket.

The need between my legs tightened.

He turned and made his way toward me. I watched, heart in my throat, as he rolled back his shoulders and took off his jacket.

It struck me that I’d never seen Kit without his jacket on. In class, he was always put together—never a hair out of place. He took his job seriously. We’d talked endlessly about his plans for his parents’ foundation, and how he hoped to put the ideas we’d come up with into action when he took over.

He looked good in just his white button-up shirt and slacks. I didn’t know where to look first. The rounded muscles of his shoulders and arms. Or the way his chest filled out his shirt. With long, patient fingers, he unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled them up, revealing deliciously thick forearms.

He had a very obvious hard-on.

I sat up straighter, rolling my clit against the seam of my jeans.

Kit put his hands on my thighs and pushed them apart, stepping between them. He trailed his hands up to where my legs met. Then he pressed his thumbs against my heat. Immediately I arched against him, wanting more.

“These are coming off,” he said. His voice was rough.

His fingers moved to my fly, making quick, careful work of the button and zipper.

“Lift your hips.”

I obeyed, toeing off my boots as Kit slid my jeans down my legs. Tossing them to the floor, he stepped between my legs again. He reached down and tugged my thong aside. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, whimpering.

“Please,” I said.

I watched as he slid his middle finger between my lips, hitting my clit right away. My eyes snapped shut; I drew a sharp breath between my teeth.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled. “Jesus Christ.”

I grabbed onto him, fisting his shirt in my hand. “Kit, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on.”

My eyes were still closed, but he swallowed loudly enough for me to hear it. The air around us tightened. For a second I wondered if this was the moment—if his control was slipping.

I wanted him to slip. I wanted to be the one to push him to that point. I wanted to turn the perfect prince into an animal. Maybe then he’d tear me to pieces, and there wouldn’t be enough of me left to go back to my heartbreak.

Kit took a deep breath through his nose. Let it out.

Then he slipped another finger between my legs. He sunk one of them—the middle, I think—into me, while he played with my clit with the other.

I rolled my hips against his hand, seeing stars behind my closed eyelids. Kit put his hand on my hip, holding me in place. Holding me against him.

The smell of his skin was driving me crazy.

His fingers were getting tangled in my thong.

“Fuck this,” he said, and ripped it in two.

I grit my teeth. I was going to come. I needed to come so badly it hurt.

“Kit,” I pleaded.

“That hurt? Shit, I’m sorry—”

“No.” I shook my head against his shoulder. “I’m close.”

He sunk both fingers into me. “I can feel it. I’ve got you, Em. Go.”

His other hand moved to my ankle. He lifted my foot and put it on the edge of the desk, spreading me wide. It was hot. Dirty. I felt myself stretching, pulsing.

He flicked his thumb over my clit.

I cried out.

I came.

Pulses of heat and light and sweetness tore through me. I fell into Kit, fell into his broad chest, and muffled my cries in his shirt.

“Keep going,” he said, leaving his fingers inside me as I pulsed around them.

My legs shook; my heart pounded. I gasped for breath as the waves kept coming, pulling me under, drowning me in such exquisite release that for a second I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

Kit looped an arm around my middle and held me against him, my knee curled to his chest. It terrified me, how safe I felt in his arms. How fucking fast he made me come.

It had never been like this with Luke. Ever.

But then again, this was insane. Maybe that’s what made it so good—the danger of it.

The fact that we only had this moment before we walked away.