Unexpected Pleasures

by Mary Wine

  “You did, and gloating is not something a lover does.”

  He slid his hands around to cup both her breasts. “Is that better?”

  His fingers were slick with water and soap and her nipples were highly sensitive. Pleasure went through the tender globes as he toyed with the tight peaks.

  “It is.” She turned around, folding her legs beneath her so that she knelt in the tub. Now she could toy with him in return, and she reached out to begin rubbing her hand over his cock. She could feel it growing harder behind the fabric of his britches. Lifting her head, she rose up so that she might whisper beside his ear.

  “Do you prefer it when I agree with you, my lord?”

  His expression was pensive. “Sometimes.”

  She straightened her back and pressed her mouth against his. Just a brush of her lips against his, a teasing, flirting motion that drew a soft sound of male approval from him.

  He suddenly stiffened. The water on his hands glistened in the candlelight. He opened his waistband and discarded his pants with swift motions.

  “But I admit that I enjoy the challenge you so often throw at me, Justina.” Determination edged his tone, touching off excitement inside her, but she cast a look at the door and noticed that it lacked a bar to keep it secure.

  “Someone might come in.”

  His shirt followed the pants, baring him completely. He reached down and slid his hands beneath her arms to lift her onto her feet.

  “I shall have to make sure you are making enough noise to keep them outside the doorway.”

  “Synclair, that is too wicked a thing to say.”

  He yanked a length of toweling off the table that was set against the wall and quickly dried the water from her skin with it.

  “Even if I mean it, Justina?”

  “Especially if you ... um ...”

  His eyes glowed with passion, and her throat tightened until not another word could make it past.

  He suddenly laughed and wrapped the toweling around her several times.

  “I mean it, but I will bend to your will and take you back to my chamber where the door is solid.”

  He grabbed his britches and stepped back into them. That was the only concession he gave to his modesty. A moment later he tossed her over his shoulder and strode without a care from the bath room and through the kitchen.

  Someone dropped something when they passed, and there were several gasps that made her cheeks burn scarlet. But it was the giggles that she heard faintly drifting down the hallway that truly horrified her.

  “Synclair, this is absurd!”

  He began climbing the stairs and used one shoulder to push open the chamber doors.

  “Aye, but its fun, too. I am beginning to see why the Scots cling to their ways. I never enjoyed chivalrous behavior quite as much as this.”

  He tossed her into the center of the bed and she bounced several times in a jumble of hair and toweling.

  “I see now why the stories tell of those harems using gold chains on their slave girls.”

  Justina pushed her hair out of her eyes and fixed him with a narrow stare.

  “I don’t find the topic amusing. It was barbaric to chain me.”

  He pressed his hands down on either side of the bed, his weight pressing the coverlet down.

  “Oh, it is very serious in the harems, too. How else would a man keep multiple women for his own pleasure if not by chaining them?” He crawled onto the bed and captured the wrist that was still stained orange. A soft kiss was pressed against the discoloration and then another until he had kissed his way to the delicate skin of her inner wrist. He lingered there, teasing it with a lick and then a carefully controlled bite. She jumped, unable to control her body. Pleasure speared through her from that nip, jolting her like a bolt of lightning did to the eyes on a dark night. It was felt as much as seen.

  “It delights me to think you could not take any steps to avoid conceiving my child.”

  Justina gasped and pulled her hand from his grasp. Of course, she gained her freedom only because he allowed it.

  “So that was your game.”

  He turned over and sat back on his haunches. His cock was swollen and tempting her with the promise of deep satisfaction once again. All she had to do was stop thinking, stop talking, and fall back into the cradle of passion once again.

  It was so very simple.

  He lifted one finger up. “I also wanted you here when I returned with Brandon.”

  She pouted at him. “That is unfair. I cannot remain cross with you when you mention bringing my son here.”

  “Good.”

  Victory edged the word and Justina pulled the toweling up to cover her breasts. “Nor can I remain in the grip of passion.”

  He muttered something beneath his breath and the profanity pleased her. Synclair’s gaze lowered to where her beaded nipples raised the soft fabric of the toweling. Something flickered in his eyes that sent heat back into her belly. She was beginning to know the look and her body recognized it, and there was no question of returning to passion’s hold. Need rose up to surround her while her lover contemplated her bare form.

  “If it’s difficulty you are having remaining in passion’s grip, perhaps I can employ a few tactics that I learned in the East to place the odds in my favor. Those Moors have some very interesting ways of entertaining all their women.”

  “Moors? You met some?”

  He chuckled and the sound was husky, hinting at something that her curiosity wanted to know. There was a dark promise flickering in his eyes, and it sent a quiver through her. The court was always full of rumors of the East. Stories of debauchery and sexual acts that made Henry the Eighth look like a puritan.

  “Do they truly have harems with hundreds of women?”

  One of Synclair’s eyebrows rose. “Some men do, and they keep those beauties satisfied.”

  “But ... how?” She shouldn’t ask but she just couldn’t stop herself. “One man can only do so much ...”

  “So much fucking?”

  He left the bed and walked over to the table that sat next to the wall. Her curiosity kept her gaze on him as he lifted the lid off one chest and searched for something inside it. He drew a fabric-wrapped bundle from it and turned to display a wicked grin.

  “What is that?”

  He held up the bundle and wiggled it back and forth on his way back to the bed.

  “This, my lover, is a toy from a harem.”

  She scoffed at him. “I doubt it. Some merchant probably just wanted you to pay more for it.”

  “Ah, you doubt my skills at shopping.” He placed it on the bed between them and she couldn’t help but look at it. There was something about the way he was grinning that sent excitement flowing through her veins. She was becoming addicted to being his lover because it allowed her to enjoy bed sport, something she had never thought possible. It drove up her excitement, making her breathless with anticipation. Her clitoris was throbbing between the folds of her slit, eager to be stroked until she climaxed again.

  She was becoming addicted to him, just as she knew she would, and yet, for the moment she did not care to worry about it.

  “With so many women to please, the Moors have invented a unique way to keep them all satisfied.”

  He unrolled the fabric and she gasped when she looked at what lay hidden inside. The toy was made of marble and looked exactly like an erect cock. She had heard that many of the statues found in the ruins of Rome had full phalluses but this was only the male organ itself, carved with attention to detail. The head was flared just like a real cock and the veins ran down the length of it to the base where the wrinkled skin of the sac was etched into the stone. A long wooden handle was inserted into the base of it, making it a statue of a cock and only that.

  “I hear the women compete against one another to win these for their use for one evening.”

  “What use?”

  He chuckled and she felt her eyes widening. “Can’t you guess
, my sweet? All of those women, doing nothing but waiting on the favor of one man. I hear that a harem master often takes more than one of his concubines to bed at the same time. Can’t you imagine how that might build a woman’s passion?”

  Justina felt her lower lip go dry with anticipation, but that did not mean that she was going to allow him to silence her with his words.

  “So why did you buy that phallus? Are you planning on keeping several mistresses?”

  He picked it up, holding it by the handle so that the candlelight illuminated it. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated her.

  “No. Yet I do plan to make sure that my wife is completely satisfied in my bed.”

  Justina shook her head, scooting farther back toward the headboard without thinking about it. Her passage was suddenly hot and eager.

  “Are you denying that you shall be satisfied, or that you will consent to be my wife, Justina?”

  He followed her and captured one of her legs by laying over it. He dropped the phallus and stroked the inside of her thigh with one large hand. He spread her wider with that hand, until the folds of her sex separated.

  “I enjoy the sounds you make when my touch pleases you.”

  That was difficult to believe, and yet his tone convinced her in spite of all her years full of examples of men taking pleasure from women without returning it.

  His eyes flashed with something that was white-hot. His fingers reached her slit and began to tease the sensitive flesh. Just a light touch but it sent shivers of delight across her belly and up to her breasts. A small whimper crossed her lips.

  “Ah, the first sound.” His fingers brushed across her slit again, this time lingering and stroking the folds until he had coated them with the fluid easing down from her passage.

  “I believe we shall have to see how many more I might coax from your lips.”

  His fingertips delved deeply until he found her clitoris. The small bead was throbbing with excitement and he fingered it, gently drawing another sound from her. It became impossible to do anything but experience the pleasure his touch ignited. Her hands clutched at the bedding and her hips arched up toward his touch.

  “I believe I have discovered a portion of the Moors’ fascination with love toys.” Synclair’s voice was dark and rich with promise. Justina lifted her drooping eyelids to look up at his face and gasped when she discovered his gaze centered on her spread slit. He was watching his finger as it teased her clitoris. Hunger brightened his eyes and his lips were thin with desire.

  He lifted his eyes to lock stares with hers. There was such ferocious determination in his eyes she almost feared him.

  But he chuckled softly and drew his finger down the center of her slit to the opening of her passage.

  “Do you still not trust me, Justina?”

  His finger circled the opening to her passage, sending short little jerks of need up into her belly. She felt empty, the walls of her passage yearning to be stretched around his length.

  “Is that what this is? A test of my faith in you?”

  He thrust one thick finger up into her body and she gasped. Sensation spiked through her, dragging her closer to the edge of climax but dropping her abruptly short of the cliff’s edge.

  “Yes.”

  His tone was deep and rough. She opened her eyes to find him watching her with eyes flickering with flames so bright she would have sworn she felt the heat burning her face.

  “I want to hear you cry out with pleasure while you know that I am taking none for myself.” His finger returned to the top of her slit, pressing down on top of her clitoris and wringing another cry from her.

  “I want you to surrender, Justina, and take every bit of pleasure I give you, and I want to listen to you enjoy my touch without my own enjoyment interfering.”

  It was too much to resist. His finger was pressing just hard enough to send her into a pulsing storm of need without granting her relief from the waves smashing into her. Her eyes closed and she arched up to his hand, seeking out the last bit of pressure that she craved, but he withdrew his touch, making her hiss with frustration.

  “Stop teasing me, Synclair!”

  “Only when you ask me for it, Justina.” Her eyes opened wide and she discovered him watching her while he held the phallus mere inches from the opening to her passage.

  She wanted it. Craved it deep inside her, and yes, there was a part of her that wanted to know he pleasured her while gaining none himself.

  She wanted to be the focus of his attention.

  “Yes! Give me pleasure, Synclair! Make me cry with it.”

  “My plan exactly.”

  He pushed the toy forward, the smooth marble slipping easily into her. She gasped because it was just as hard as his cock and yet not as hot. He must have warmed it with his body because it wasn’t cold, either. Her passage took it eagerly, stretching as he pushed it deeper and farther into her. Her back arched to make sure she took the entire length and pleasure began to twist through her belly. He had built her need up so much that she could already feel it beginning to crest. The phallus filled her completely and that was all her body needed to take what it craved.

  “Not yet, my beauty.”

  She was suddenly empty and frustration ripped a snarl from her lips.

  Synclair chuckled at her and pushed the toy back into her body. She locked stares with him to discover no mercy in his eyes. There was nothing but determination and savage enjoyment of having her completely under his control.

  “You will gain your pleasure when I decide, Justina.”

  “Bastard.”

  He pulled the marble length free in response, his expression unrelenting.

  “Say you are mine, Justina, mine to do with as I please.”

  “No!”

  That single word was born from the years of being forced to obey. She surged up off the surface of the bed, determined to resist being put in her place once again. Synclair captured her, pulling her struggling body to his and locking her in place before rolling her onto her back once more.

  “I won’t ... I can’t!”

  He thrust his cock into her, filling her sheath with hot, hard flesh. His hands framed her face, forcing her to keep her eyes locked with his.

  “You can trust me, Justina, for I will never take more from you than I give.” His hands tightened, pulling her hair while his cock felt as though it was growing larger. “I love you. I always have.”

  His body bucked, shaking the bed as he began to ride her with hard motions.

  “Oh God ... yes!”

  She wanted to scream; she wanted him to make her scream in spite of every reason she had to refuse such an outburst.

  “No mercy this time, Justina! Do you hear me? I am going to take you.”

  “Yes!”

  It was the only word her mind could form. Her body was a swirling storm of clashing sensations. Synclair pressed his hands flat on the surface of the bed and pushed his upper body away from hers. His hips were thrusting hard against her and she could hear their flesh slapping when it met.

  “Wider ... spread yourself for me.”

  His breath was raspy, and she didn’t care if he was possessed of a demon that would devour her once he was finished, so long as he didn’t stop. She lifted her feet and opened her legs wide so that he might drive his cock deeper and faster into her center. Her breasts were swaying with the motion of the bed. It was wild and she opened her eyes to see that Synclair looked more like a barbarian than any man she had ever seen.

  The sight pleased her ...

  “More!”

  She reached up and grabbed the headboard, lifting her hips up to meet every hard thrust. Her eyes closed again as her body’s pleasure took precedence over every thought. Pleasure was twisting in her belly so tightly, it felt like it would snap her in two when it finally crested. Justina didn’t care. All that mattered was the driving need to keep pace with him, to urge him faster and harder and ...

  Pleasure broke over he
r, tumbling her like a fallen tree in the grip of a storm. She twisted and thrashed as the climax tore through every inch of her flesh. There was no way to tell if it was pleasure or pain because it was so intense. Her heart threatened to burst with the effort of keeping pace and she cried out with enjoyment.

  Synclair growled. It wasn’t low or deep, it was a sound full of victory. His body bucked frantically a few final times before he shuddered and his seed began to spill deep inside her. He drove his length deep, intent on pumping it against the mouth of her womb. A second tremor ripped through her, deeper and weaker than the first climax, but her eyes flew open because she had never experienced a second climax before.

  Her open eyes locked with those of her lover, mesmerizing her while the pleasure washed over her and left her lying helpless on the surface of the bed. If he had drawn a knife and made to slay her, she could not have moved.

  His arms shook and bent until he was only an inch above her. Heat radiated off his body too hot to tolerate because her own body was so warm. Their breathing was raspy, filling the chamber with the sound of their panting. The bed jerked once again as he rolled over and landed on his back beside her. Her thighs ached when she moved them, surprising her because she couldn’t recall noticing that her muscles were strained.

  No, of course not, she had been too intent on the moment. On being possessed so very completely. Now there was only the rapture that coated her from head to toe; she couldn’t think or move.

  And she didn’t want to either.

  “Promise me that you will wed me, Justina. That is what I need to hear from your lips.”

  Justina groaned but Synclair rolled onto his side, propping one elbow against the bed and resting his head in the palm of his hand. One brief glance showed her that the man was not in the mood to be denied his request.

  “I do not understand what drives you, Synclair. We are good lovers but that is not what anyone should choose a wife for.”

  He blew out a harsh breath and reached over to cup her chin when she would have looked away from him.

  “I am not a boy, Justina. What you fail to grasp is the fact that I crave passion, deep, soul-shattering pleasure of the flesh, and I want a woman who can meet me in that desire. What I don’t want is to keep a string of mistresses, discarding one after another and blaming them for the fact that true satisfaction requires a deep intimacy that is only found with a soul mate. I meant it; I love you.”