by Mary Wine
“I don’t want you to.”
His eyes connected with hers for one slim moment, but it was long enough for her to view the wildness burning there. It was a part of him that he never allowed free, and that satisfied her in a way she had never thought possible.
She twisted her thighs around his hips, reaching for his shoulders to hold herself up.
“Do it, Synclair! Do it now.”
He didn’t need any further urging. She felt the hard touch of his cock against her slit, the thick staff seeking the opening to her body, sliding easily through the fluid that coated her folds. Her hips tilted toward him and she felt his length touch the mouth of her sheath, sinking in several inches.
She gasped. Her passage was tight and resisting, promising pain when he plunged into her completely. But Synclair held himself steady, sparing her that pain. A muscle on the side of his jaw quivered and she could see his teeth clenching while he stopped, watching her face. Through the blaze of need, she could see him judging her response.
“Thrust deep.” Her voice was husky and rich with need. She didn’t want to stop, feared that her mind might snap if she didn’t gain what she hungered for.
“You’re tight.” His eyes flickered. “We need to slow down.”
“No! I am not a maiden.” She cupped the back of his neck, pulling his head down to hers so that she might kiss him. Her passage burned, desperate to feel more of his flesh inside it. She licked his lower lip before thrusting her tongue up into his mouth to slide along his own, teasing it with what both their bodies desired.
His body shuddered, need consuming him. His hands tightened around her hips and his member withdrew before thrusting forward to penetrate her deeper. Pleasure speared through her with the hard flesh and her head fell back, a moan escaping from her lips. Rapture held her in its grip, refusing to be denied or contained inside her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as her clitoris throbbed.
Synclair growled again, his body moving in short thrusts that drove his cock deeply into her. Satisfaction rippled through her, her passage filling with enjoyment as he impaled her completely.
“Too fast. Yet I cannot stop.”
His voice was strained and his words came through clenched teeth, but there was no stopping the need for either of them. He drove his cock into her over and over, his thrusts hard and deep. Justina kept pace with him, working her hips to capture each thrust, groaning when she felt his sac against her bottom. The wall against her back kept her steady for the rapidly increasing pace of his thrusts. Pleasure speared through her with each stroke of hard flesh against her clitoris. There was no controlling it, no tempering how it sent soft cries across her lips. She strained against her lover, equally caught up in the frantic need. Her pleasure crested, rapture bursting through her in a wave as hard as the cock thrusting into her. She cried out, the sound of her own voice strange while her body shivered in the grip of sensation that was so pleasurable she sobbed with it.
Synclair snarled with his. The sound was deep and harsh but satisfying because there was no polish to it, only the raw tone of immense pleasure. He thrust against her hard, his cock feeling bigger, more swollen in those last few moments before she felt his seed erupting inside her. The hands gripping her hips flexed, tightening to pin her in place while his cock emptied its hot load inside her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, harshly, but her own mimicked it.
He cursed softly, still pinning her against the wall with his body. She felt his shoulders quivering and doubted that her own legs would be able to support her. But her knees ached from the tight hold she had used to keep him between her thighs, the muscles complaining now that satisfaction had been gained. Sweat coated her face and her heart beat with hard motions beneath her breasts.
Synclair growled and moved back, allowing her legs to lower.
“I can offer no excuse, Justina.”
“I didn’t ask you for any.” Just as she’d suspected, her legs wobbled when she tried to take her own weight. A hard arm snaked around her waist to bind her against his body. He turned and put his back against the wall while still panting softly. She could feel his heart beating hard against his chest because she was pressed against him.
“You shouldn’t have to accept excuses for my behavior. I never intended to treat you roughly.”
There was tenderness in his voice, and it sent her seeking enough poise to hide from before she forgot everything except what she craved. There were too many feelings for him inside her, and she dare not allow them to bask in the moment, else they would grow and threaten her entire composure. More than one widow had run away with her lover and turned her back on her guardian, but both had lost everything when they did so.
“I am not a maiden so discard your concern.”
“That has no bearing upon how you should be treated.”
He refused to allow her to push away from him. Instead he cupped her chin and raised her face to meet his.
“But you were tight, very tight, and I know that I caused you pain by failing to control my lust.”
Justina pushed a hand against his chest. “I did not ask you to show control.”
She gained no distance from him, his arm remaining firm and inescapable yet not hurting her. Disapproval shone in his eyes now but it was directed at himself.
“You should not have to ask me for such. It is my duty to control my strength since it is greater.”
“Stop it, Synclair.” She didn’t know how to accept the tenderness in his words as genuine. Perhaps it was safer not to accept it, since such kindness so often dissipated the moment a man was in the mood to bend a woman to his will.
His lips rose, curving into a satisfied smile. She pushed against his body again, using more strength.
“And do not become smug because I called you by name.”
He released her, and because of how strongly she had been straining against his arm, she stumbled back a pace. He remained against the wall, leaning on it while watching her with piercing eyes.
“I am not allowed to be pleased by the fact that you mutter my name, Lady?” He clicked his tongue at her in reprimand. “Now that is most unkind of you, Justina. It is something I have longed to hear on your lips. The sound is as sweet as I hoped it might be.”
He reached up and dug his fingers into his shirt. With a swift pull, he drew the garment over his head and off completely. It fluttered to the floor. He straightened up and she stepped back because she had somehow become accustomed to him being so close, forgetting just how large he truly was—the top of her head was even with his shoulders. He walked across the chamber to sit down in a chair that was waiting. He pulled one boot off in a quick motion before she was able to force her mind to function once more.
“What are you doing?”
His smile turned arrogant. “Disrobing. Something I should have done before kissing you.” The second boot came free and landed next to its twin. “A quick tumble was not why I brought you here.”
“Wasn’t it?” She was being coarse but she couldn’t afford to think of him as a tender lover. “We both wanted an outlet for our anger.”
Synclair frowned and stood up. His pants were still open and they slid down his thighs with only a simple push from his hands. He stepped out of them and she turned away because his cock was still hard. It stood fully erect, the head of it ruby red in spite of the fact that she knew he had spilled his seed inside her.
She had felt it spurting up against the mouth of her womb. A tiny quiver went through her belly as she recalled that moment. It had been more satisfying than any other she had ever experienced during bed sport.
She must never allow Synclair to know that.
“I still want to kill de Canis.”
Synclair was directly behind her. She gasped, never hearing even a single scuff against the floor. But he closed his arms around her, pulling her back against his body in a motion that was fluid and impossible to escape.
“But not now.” He angled his head s
o that his words brushed over her ear. The skin on her neck felt the warmth of his breath, and sensation rippled across it. It frustrated her because it was so simple a touch, yet she was keenly aware of it. She strained away from him, struggling when he refused to release her. But his arms were solid bands of inescapable steel about her, keeping her arms pinned against her body, leaving her little to fight with except to squirm.
He leaned down and placed a kiss against her neck. His lips were hot and drew a soft breath from her.
“Does this mean you are not finished resisting me, Justina?” Another press of his lips landed on the sensitive skin of her throat. “Good.” He whispered that single word like a judgment, his voice hard and edged with promise. “I believe I am not finished bending you either.”
A shiver crossed her skin, rippling down her body in response. There was a promise in his voice, one that was unmistakable.
“You make no sense with such words.”
He chuckled, and it was not a pleasant sound, but one that sent anticipation through her. His arms relaxed, allowing her space, and she moved away from the disturbing contact with his body only to be caught on his arm in front of her while she felt his fingers pulling on the lace that held her dress closed.
“I make more sense than you do when you tell me to leave you.”
“I told you that because there can be no future in what you seek with me beyond tonight.”
Justina gained her freedom as his arms slacked from surprise. At last, it appeared that he was beginning to accept what their reality was. Her victory was short-lived however because she heard him pull the tie free that secured her dress. The bodice sagged and she had to clasp her arms over her chest to keep it in place. Synclair reached down and grasped both sides of the skirt in his large hands and drew the garment up and over her head while she tried to hold onto her dress.
“Then be very sure that I plan to make good use of the entire night, Justina.”
He pulled the loosened gown from her grasp with only a slight sound of tearing. With a hard look he threw the dress on the table behind him, remaining between it and her. Justina turned to face him completely, feeling exposed in her stays and chemise. Her shoes had fallen off somewhere near the wall, leaving her in stocking-clad feet. She suddenly worried that he might find her body unattractive. Her husband had told her that childbearing had left its mark on her, and it had been clear that he did not care for the sight of it.
“I must return to the palace.” Her voice was low, to conceal her apprehension.
Synclair shook his head, and she discovered it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. Her gaze wanted to slide down his body and soak in all the perfection she knew he’d hidden beneath his clothing. She wanted to be selfish and stay with him. She wanted him to want her to remain even though he had already had her.
Such was a whimsical idea, one only found in sonnets and fables.
She had turned her head away but a soft stroke across her cheek drew her attention back to Synclair.
“Ah sweet lady, I am not nearly finished with proving my worth to you this night. Where you needs go is into that bed where I may take the rest of the night to bend you to my will. I promise you, you will enjoy it well.”
Her mouth went dry while her mind whispered dark temptations about what this man might do if lust wasn’t riding him so high. His voice was deep and husky and rich with promise. Many a man thought he knew how to pleasure a woman, but most were naught but arrogant fools, drunk on their own pride.
“You are thinking about it, Justina, I see the passion glittering in your eyes.” He reached down and grasped his cock. She failed to keep her attention on his face, her gaze slipping down, over the cut ridges of his chest muscle, across the lean expanse of his belly to the place where his fingers curled around the hard member that had so recently pleasured her.
“Go on and look at me, Justina, I have been waiting a long time to watch you gazing at my flesh and seeing what the sight of my arousal does to you. To see if it raises passion in your eyes as I have so often hoped for.”
His hand moved up and down the length of his cock. She trembled, her blood beginning to rush through her veins in excitement. Behind her stays, her nipples drew into hard points that longed for the touch of his hand. There was a practiced motion in the way his fingers moved along his length, the man knew how to handle the more sensitive parts of the human body.
Sweet Christ. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, overwhelmed by the ideas swarming inside her mind. She couldn’t take a lover, not one of her own choosing, and she certainly couldn’t allow herself to indulge her whims with Synclair.
She might never be able to leave him.
“Enough, Synclair.”
She trembled, need flowing through her like a swollen river. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeking solace while denying herself what she craved.
“You have had what you wanted and now I am going to return to the palace. You may have your leave from Ryppon, but I do not have freedom from my guardian.”
He released his cock, allowing her to see it clearly. The staff was thick and long, reminding her of the pinch that had assaulted her when she took it. It was the largest cock she’d ever ridden, without doubt.
“You shall have your leave of that bastard viscount, if I must kill him to gain it.”
She gasped, fear cutting through her passion instantly.
“You must not say such things! Biddeford is a noble. You would be put to death for harming him. You must dispense with this notion of sheltering me.”
She shivered, lament filling her for all of the things that they could not afford to share with each other. She drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves and fortify her resolve.
“I must go.”
“And so you shall, Lady.”
Surprise made her gasp but it turned into a shriek when Synclair rushed her, capturing her body and raising it far enough up into the air to be dumped over the footboard of the large bed. He dropped her and her body bounced in a jumble of limbs as she tried to push herself up. She rose onto her knees, only to be knocked backward when Synclair jumped over the footboard, lunging like a large predator, stretching out his body and hooking her around her waist with one large arm. They both landed stretched out on the surface of the bed, the ropes creaking from the motion of their landing.
“You shall go to my bed and you shall bend to my will.”
Synclair slid one hand beneath her shoulder and rolled her over onto her belly. He trapped her there with his own body, lying alongside her and allowing enough of his weight to rest on her to keep her in place.
“Synclair, you must dispense with this notion of yours.”
He pulled the lace on her stays in response, releasing the knot and using his fingers to pull the length of cord free from the eyelets that ran down the back of the garment.
“I have chased you for over two years, Justina. What makes you think that I will dispense with anything now that I have you exactly where I want you?”
“I left you for another. Doesn’t your pride have an issue with that?”
He pulled on the lace and she watched it sail over the edge of the bed before another firm hand turned her onto her back. She wished he hadn’t turned her when she caught sight of his face. His features were drawn into a tight mask of male frustration. He leaned over her, pressing her to the bed with his wide chest.
“You went to another’s bed because that bastard Biddeford ordered you to. That is not leaving me. You had no choice.” His eyes narrowed. “He makes you whore for his gain.”
“Exactly. Which is why I tell you to set your sights on a more worthy woman.”
His fingers gently closed her lips, lightly pressing against them to stop her from speaking further.
“I cannot change the fact that I am drawn to you, Justina, any more than you may alter the fact that you cannot resist my touch. Admit that you are where you have longed to be. I saw it in your eyes, even as y
ou told me to leave you. I saw it.”
She wouldn’t. Her head began shaking back and forth, denying him and herself.
“I believe I like your resistance more than I would have enjoyed your surrender, for it grants me the challenge of taming you.”
There was thick promise in his tone and she witnessed it flickering in his eyes as well. Her belly twisted in response, anticipation beginning to throb in her clitoris. She seemed to have lost all control over her body; it was responding in spite of all her reasons not to.
He rose up onto one elbow and hooked his hand into her stays. In a heartbeat, he pulled the garment away from her body and tossed it over the edge of the bed.
“Ah, undeniable proof.”
The thin fabric of her chemise was laying over her body now, the only thing shielding her from his keen stare. But the flimsy fabric molded to her every curve, showing him the hard points of her nipples. He lowered his body again, easing to one side of her body so that he might nuzzle against her breasts. Sensation shot through her so fast she jumped, turning away from him out of pure response.
Synclair trapped her shoulder beneath his own, his fingers threading into her hair and plucking a hairpin from where the maid had secured her curls.
“I am going to taste you, Justina, every last inch of you before I am finished having you.”
He lowered his head until she felt his breath against one puckered nipple. Her chemise failed to shield her from it, sensation prickling through the skin and down the sides of her breast. His tongue flicked over it, wetting the fabric and drawing a stiff breath from her. She was acutely aware of the tiniest touch, her skin alive with more sensation then she had ever experienced before.
He licked the top of her nipple once, twice more before closing his lips all the way around the puckered peak. She gasped but her back arched, rising off the bed to offer her nipple to his lips. Need was blistering her, it was so hot. The motion of his mouth, drawing in the nipple, softly sucking on it, made her cry out.