He held her against him, but that didn’t allow for her hands to continue working his doublet open. She leaned back and his mouth trailed across her jaw to her neck where he pressed hot kisses to the skin. Sensation rippled down her body in response to each press of his mouth. Deep tremors that traveled impossibly quick to her belly where need was burning white-hot. All of the times that she had avoided him rose up to torment her and push her hands faster. All of the denying that she had forced herself to accept suddenly turned on her, becoming fuel for the raging need.
“We should slow down ...” His voice was husky and hard, telling her that he was grasping at the last of his control to say what he thought she needed to hear.
“Don’t let me think.” She pushed at his open doublet, pushing it over his shoulders and down his arms. “I don’t want to think. I want to feel!”
“So do I.”
His voice was almost raw and his blue eyes shimmered with agreement, but there was also argument there. She watched it battling against his need and once again she felt that sense of kinship with him. They were so alike that she yearned to toss everything aside in favor of seeking out some solace in his embrace. She didn’t seem to possess even a shred of discipline to resist now that his hands were upon her.
“We accomplish little with conversation.”
His tone should have warned her away but instead it sent a shiver down her back. He shrugged his open doublet off and let it fall on the floor without a care. His eyes were lit with anticipation, but what captivated her was his lack of restraint. Always the knight had been in control. She stared at him, trying to absorb who he was behind that shield of chivalry.
He cupped her face once more, capturing her mouth with his. The kiss was full of everything she had witnessed flickering in his eyes. The demand was firm, his mouth pushing hers open so that his tongue might thrust deeply. A soft moan rose from her chest as the heat inside her body became too much. Her dress was far too heavy and tight. She twisted, trying to escape what felt like endless layers of fabric.
Synclair never lifted his mouth away from hers but his hands slid down to her waist, gripping her and lifting her once more. She gripped his shoulders, kissing him back with every bit of desperation that was bubbling inside her. She felt like a thief, taking what she needed because she simply could not resist what she craved any longer.
Justina pushed her hands into the open collar of his shirt, pushing it away from his skin so that her hands might slide across his warm flesh. Passion flooded her and she willingly let it drag her away, the current pleasing her in a wicked way. Every time that she had watched him and denied herself his company surfaced with the demand that she touch him and be touched in return. There was no building, only the white-hot blaze of need that had been boiling inside her for too long. She thrust her own tongue into his mouth, eager for deep contact between them. Synclair growled and turned with her still in his grasp. A moment later, he pressed her back against the wall, lifting her higher so that his cock was even with her sex. She lifted her thighs, releasing his shoulders to grab her skirts and yank them out of the way.
“I cannot wait, Justina.”
His voice was strained almost to the point of being incomprehensible. He pressed his upper body against her, pinning her to the wall while he ripped the opening of his pants apart.
“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