by Mary Wine
He raised his head and stared at her.
“Tell me you want me to continue.”
His fingers took over playing with her nipple, rubbing the wet spot on her chemise and sending light ripples of sensation through her breast. Yet it wasn’t as intense as it had been when his mouth sucked on that same nipple. She bit her lower lip, refusing to send him back to doing what she could not resist.
“Ah, you wish me to seek out more tender parts of you.” His voice dripped with promise. “I believe I am up to that challenge.”
His hands lowered to her thighs, resting for a moment on top of the tender skin while he allowed her to see the flare of desire that lit his eyes.
“I have spent many a day thinking about touching you, stroking you.”
“You shouldn’t have wasted your time. There is no future in this.”
His lips curved. “I disagree, Lady. There is an entire night at our disposal.”
One night. It might be short or impossibly long, depending on how she spent it. Nights in her husband’s bed had been horribly endless but the hands smoothing up her thighs didn’t breed in her the need to clench her thighs together or fight the urge to retch.
Instead, she resisted the urge to surrender. Synclair was still watching her and his eyebrows lowered.
“Why do you fear enjoying my touch, Justina? I have never raised my hand against you.”
“You locked me up.”
“For your own well-being.”
She shook her head. “Yet that is what you fail to understand. My well-being is not what matters. I strive to provide my son with a decent life, keeping me from that is something I cannot accept. Ever.”
“Your guardian is unfit.”
She laughed, caught between the urge to cry and beg him for assistance. “There is a court full of women in the same position, Synclair. The king has set a tone of no mercy for women in this kingdom. Have you seen the Queen since your return? She is so docile it sickens me, and I can only think she must think the same of me when she sees me doing Biddeford’s bidding. Yet we both continue to obey because we are women.”
Justina rolled over, slightly astonished that he allowed her to. She sat up, pulling her legs up beneath her chemise. Synclair watched her, with his head resting on his hand and a bent elbow propped against the bed.
“But more than one man has had to tolerate a cruel master while he trains for knighthood. My struggle is not uncommon.”
“You tell yourself that to endure it.”
She hugged her legs, taking solace in the embrace. “Tell me you have agreed with every order and task you have been given by your betters.”
It was a challenge, her words barbed. Synclair frowned and sat up. “I have not.”
“Good, then we understand each other at last. I had to return, no matter the risk; it was my duty and it is my place, and it protects my son.”
He flattened his hands on the surface of the bed, caging her between his thick arms. That quickly, she was once more his captive.
“I understand your motives, but what you fail to grasp is the fact that your devotion to your son only draws me to you even more. I understand your need, Justina, and it makes you only more attractive to me.”
He pressed his mouth against hers, demanding a kiss that was deep and hard. His lips pressed hers to part, and the tip of his tongue gently licked along her lower lip before thrusting inside to toy with her own. His hands searched through her hair, pulling pins from it until the entire mass came free. Lifting his mouth away from hers, he lifted her up and turned her away from him. Her weight seemed simple for him to move and that knowledge sent a shaft of trust through her because he controlled it so well. She made no choice to trust, it simply began to grow inside her.
“Another thing that I have dwelt on is seeing your hair flowing across my skin.”
He combed his fingers through her hair, loosening the braids until the strands lay in soft curls across his open hands. She heard him draw in a stiff breath, and it sent another emotion through her that felt too much like affection. She could not harbor such a feeling. Pushing her feet beneath her, she went to stand but only managed to flatten her feet against the bed. A moment later, Synclair rose above her, pulling her chemise up by the hem as he went. The garment pulled her arms up and slipped over her wrists without pausing.
“Much more to my liking.”
Completely bare, Justina couldn’t resist the urge to cross her arms in front of her breasts. She had always been told how beautiful she was, but she suddenly feared that Synclair would not find her so pleasing. He cupped her chin once again, raising her eyes to meet his.
“I find you irresistible, Justina.”
As she did him. With naught but darkness surrounding them and the chill of winter brushing her skin, stopping herself from leaning against him became impossible.
One night. Was she not allowed a single taste of passion that pleased her and no one else except her partner?
Lover ...
That was the word, and it felt foreign on her tongue but sweeter than any wine she had ever tasted.
He met her, angling his head so that their lips could fuse. The kiss was deep but slow, the need to hurry gone. Justina lifted her hands and flattened them on his chest, slowly stroking over the firm ridges of flesh and shivering with enjoyment. His arms pulled her closer, until her breasts were pressing against his body. She had never noticed that her curves fit so well against the harder body of a man. His hand slid up her back until he reached her head and her unbound hair. He threaded his fingers into it and grasped it gently.
The kiss changed, becoming more heated. His tongue penetrated her mouth, stroking and thrusting just as his cock had done. The motion awakened a soft throbbing in her clitoris, hunger beginning to heat and churn in her passage once more. Synclair lifted her up and laid her down across the bed. She shivered as she watched him rising up above her. In the dark, he was more shadow than flesh and yet she could sense his warmth, smell his scent. All of her senses were more sensitive, allowing her to hear the sound of his breathing and the way the bed ropes creaked when he lowered his body down to cover hers.
His lips found her neck, placing soft kisses against the tender skin. Delight flowed down her body from each one and she shifted beneath him, unable to decide what she wanted. Her hands roamed over his shoulders and then along his nape and finally into his shoulder-length hair. He kept trailing kisses down her neck until he reached her shoulder, but that did not stop him. He trailed more kisses over her collarbones and across her chest until he reached her breasts. The tender globes were quivering with anticipation. Every second felt as though it were an entire hour while she waited for his lips to begin touching the more sensitive skin.
She realized in that moment that no man had ever taken the time to arouse her. It was a sobering thought and her hands stroked over his shoulders, savoring the moment while she waited for his lips to seek out her nipples once more. When he closed his lips around one puckered peak, she arched up to offer it to him. Hunger was burning inside her now. The satisfaction from their first encounter lending heat to a new need that was more intense than the one that had seen them pressing together against the wall. She moved her legs, enjoying the way his bare skin felt against her own. Decadent and rich, the delight flooding her.
Synclair slid lower, leaving her nipple and pressing kisses against her ribs and then on the flat of her belly. Her eyes flew open as she felt his hands cupping her knees and spreading her thighs.
“Synclair—”
A soft chuckle was his response. His head lifted and the meager light in the room glittered off his eyes.
“I know the difference between demanding submission from a woman and seducing a woman, Justina.”
“Most men don’t.” She didn’t realize she spoke out loud until another chuckle passed his lips. His hands smoothed over the top of her thighs before returning to her knees.
“Have I discovered the means to wooi
ng you, sweet Justina?” He pushed her knees wide, spreading her legs so that the night air brushed against her wet folds. She was keenly aware of the fact that she was wet, too, his soft kisses having built her passion back up and sent fluid easing down her passage to coat her folds.
“I believe I will exploit that bit of information.”
His hands smoothed back up her thighs but along the inside now. Her skin was sensitive, and her breath caught as he stroked her. She had never thought her skin might be so tender or that she would enjoy having it petted. Synclair lowered his gaze to her sex and she felt her cheeks heat. No one had ever looked at her sex. Justina suddenly felt unsure, her thighs wanting to close.
Synclair clicked his tongue at her. The sound was warm and full of wicked promise. “Where is your courage, Lady? Have you not frenched men?”
Her blush deepened and her thighs tried to snap shut again. Synclair looked up her body, and in spite of the darkness, she saw the smile curving his lips. His fingers reached her mons and gently stroked over the wet folds. It was a whisper of a stroke but she jerked because sensation shot through her as quickly as a pistol.
“Have you wrapped your lips around a cock and listened to the way a man is reduced to a quivering mass while you suck him?”
“Of course I have ...” Her husband had demanded the service often. “But you can not mean to do that ...”
“To you?” His fingers moved across her folds again, this time making more of a connection. He pushed one fingertip into her slit and stroked her very center until he was hovering over her clitoris, rubbing it gently. She suddenly understood what he meant by being reduced to a quivering mass. Her eyelids closed without hesitation as sensation took complete command of her.
“I assure you, Justina, a lover does indeed return the favor of frenching, even if your bastard of a husband was too selfish to give you the pleasure.”
She had wondered what it might be like to be pleasured while doing nothing for her partner. To lie back and do nothing except enjoy—part of her wondered if that was where true rapture might be found. She quivered, anticipation beginning to drag her down into a swirling vortex of sensation where there was no need to hold onto her discipline.
“Wait—” She forced her eyes to open and lock with his. She gasped when she saw the determination on his face. He waited until her gaze was locked with his.
“I promised you that I would bend you to my will, Justina. Women are not the only ones who can drive their partner past reason with a skillfully placed touch.”
“I need my ability to reason.”
“No, my lady, you do not. At least not for the rest of this night.”
His finger pressed a bit harder and she felt her back arching, her hips lifting up to offer her clitoris to his touch. There was a steady command in his touch and hard resolution in his tone. Her entire body shivered but she lost the ability to keep her eyes open, her body demanding that she surrender to the bliss that his finger was inducing. Her heartbeat accelerated and her hands fisted in the bedding. She felt him lean closer, his breath hitting the wet skin of her spread sex. He used two fingers to separate her folds even more and lay her clitoris completely bare. Anticipation twisted through her, pulling her between excitement and desperation.
The first touch of his lips was almost too hot to bear. Her head thrashed on the bedding but it wasn’t enough, and she heard a thin cry escape her lips.
“Hmm ... I believe you enjoyed that.”
His fingers moved her folds away from her clitoris even more and he lowered his head to place another kiss against the sensitive bead. But this time he closed his lips around it, sucking gently on it. Delight snapped her like a leather whip, drawing every muscle she had taut, to the point that it felt they might snap, but she didn’t care. There was nothing but the pleasure filling her from where his mouth was fashioned around her clitoris. His opposite hand joined in the assault on her flesh, one finger gently teasing the opening of her passage.
She cried out, louder and longer while her hips jerked against that finger. Her passage had never felt so empty, so desperately in need of being filled. The sucking on her clitoris was pushing her toward another explosion of pleasure but denying her that final burst of satisfaction. Instead she twisted on the edge of a cliff, lifting her lower body up, seeking enough pressure to send delight flooding through her.
“Shall I give you pleasure?”
Synclair’s voice was strained. “Demand it from me, Justina. Use my name and ask me for what you want.”
“Yes, Synclair, yes!”
There was no thought in her mind save gaining release from the twisting knot of need in her belly. He leaned back down, sucking her clitoris back between his lips, harder and faster this time while his fingers thrust smoothly into her passage.
She cried out, her voice echoing off the canopy above the bed, her body contorting and withering while pleasure assaulted her in a storm of white-hot rain. It soaked her from head to foot, so hot, she feared she might be scarred, but she did not care. She clawed at the sheet, hearing it rip where her fingernails punctured it.
“You are mine.”
He rose up, rocking the bed with how much strength he used. His face was pulled tight now, desire causing his nostrils to flare. He covered her, lowering his body on top of hers while she gasped and reached for him. Satisfaction was still shaking her but she ached for complete possession, her passage craving the hard presence of his cock deep inside it.
She clasped his hips between her thighs and sighed as the head of his member pushed through the wet folds of her slit. His body shook with the amount of control he was using to mount her gently.
But that wasn’t what she craved.
“Take me, Synclair. Now.”
He growled and his body flexed, sending his cock into her heated passage. She arched to take him, crying out as his flesh filled her near to bursting once more. His breath was ragged and his skin moist with perspiration. He gathered her hair in his fists while his hips began to move in rapid thrusts. The bed creaked, the canopy jerking and pitching above her head, but all that mattered was the hard flesh filling her over and over.
She felt him begin to give up his seed, the hot spurt hitting the mouth of her womb, and another burst of pleasure clenched her passage around his length. It caught her by surprise and her cry mixed with his deeper one as their bodies rocked through a final few thrusts.
“Sweet Christ in heaven ...”
Synclair’s elbows made deep indentions in the bed beneath her as he supported his weight and kept his wide chest from crushing her breasts.
“I cannot breathe.” In spite of his chest not pressing down on hers, her lungs still burned and her heart felt as though it might break through her bones because it was thumping so violently.
He rolled onto his back, lying still while the sound of their rough respiration filled the space between the bed and the canopy. Her mind swam in a mist of satisfaction and exhaustion, her limbs feeling too heavy to move. But she felt Synclair begin to toy with her hair, just a soft motion of his fingers combing through the strands while he continued to draw rough breaths beside her.
“That was delightful, Justina.”
There was an arrogance in his tone that had her opening her eyes. Pleasure was still pulsing through her in soft little waves but her mind was beginning to function once more, thoughts forming where there had been none while he touched her. The hand in her hair sent a little bolt of fear through her because his touch had the ability to make her senseless.
She curled away from him, seeking the edge of the bed.
“The snow is falling, Justina, and there is nowhere for you to go while the sun is gone.”
A hard arm hooked around her waist, drawing her back against his body. He sat partially up and tugged the bedding free from where it was turned down at the foot of the bed.
“Let us enjoy each other’s warmth instead of traveling a frozen path that will be much easier to cover in
the light of day.”
He covered her with a warm spread and held her tight against his body, even when she wriggled.
“I must go.”
“Nay.”
Firm and unyielding, his voice was as immovable as his body. Her strength deserted her, bleeding away as her heart slowed and calmed. She was suddenly more at ease than she had ever been. The warm body pressing against her back, more secure than anything she had ever felt. His hands smoothed over her, stroking with a tenderness that sent two tears down her cheeks. He pressed a kiss against her neck before breathing out a long sigh.
“I plan to pray that the storm lasts for a week, for that will give me the excuse to keep you in this bed.”
His voice was slow and drowsy and she couldn’t even muster enough strength to answer him. Instead she felt the beat of his heart against her back and allowed it to lead her off into sleep. A deep sleep that was free of worry. Warmth and tenderness surrounded her and it was, without doubt, the purest form of perfection she had ever felt.
CHAPTER FOUR
Justina moved, rolling over in her sleep, and the man sharing the bed with her followed her. Her mind instantly roused, refusing to relax back into the deep state she had been in. Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to recall where she was.
And with whom.
Fear spiked through her, making her muscles tense. She never remained in bed with anyone that she was sent to entice.
Memory flooded back into her mind. Synclair was curled around her back, his soft breathing telling her that he was still deep in slumber’s grip. She turned her head to see him. His features were completely relaxed, making him look harmless and somewhat like a boy. His hair was tousled and lay swept back away from his face. It wasn’t truly golden, but had darker streaks in it. One of his hands was resting on her hip and she looked down at it.
Men did not cling to women after bedding them. To be held was a need that was purely feminine and yet, she could not deny that Synclair was turned toward her several hours after he had gained what he wanted from her.