A Knight of Passion

chapter Eleven

Bryant took three steps to the small table beside the bed, undid the belt that held his sword in place, and set belt and weapon on the table. He turned and faced his wife. She stared, eyes wide, as if she expected him to eat her. His cock was already hard as rock. Eating her was exactly what he wanted to do. But she was his wife, and they were in a chapel.

Did a man f*ck his wife as he had Riana last night? Would she expect him to treat her differently now that she was a wife, instead of the woman who had found a stranger in her bed? He recalled her cool fingers on his neck when she brought his mouth to her nipple, the way her fingers had wrapped around his shaft and squeezed until pleasure tightened his balls to near pain. By God, he would not last a day, much less a lifetime, being nothing but gentle with her. But today, now, he must be gentle.

He crossed to her and stopped inches in front of her, then lifted a hand to her face. She jumped. Bryant slowly traced her cheek with a finger. Her brow furrowed in obvious confusion. She clearly had no idea what to expect. He couldn’t help a private laugh. He had no idea what to expect himself. He had never been married, had not planned to marry any time soon, and wanted nothing more than to back her against the wall and f*ck her so hard she would forget all the other men who had come before him.

With great care, he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her, careful not to pull her close enough to feel the erection that pressed against his hose with a vengeance that threatened to force him past reason. If she knew his cock had remained rock hard from the moment he’d laid eyes on her sitting on the warden’s desk, she would attribute his sudden marriage proposal to pure lust and consign him to the devil. She wouldn’t be wholly wrong.

Riana exhaled a shaky breath, and he nibbled on her lower lip. She grasped his shoulders and satisfaction tightened his abdomen with the realisation that she was steadying herself. He kissed her hard. She entwined her arms around him and pressed herself close. Her hips bumped his, and her sharp intake of breath told him she was well aware of his hard shaft. He pictured her spreading her legs and riding his cock as she would a stallion. He undulated his hips, digging into the soft flesh of her mound.

Her head fell back in open invitation and he trailed a kiss from chin to breast. He drew back and stared at the creamy swell of flesh visible over her bodice, then tugged down the dress. His cock jerked at sight of the hardened, rose-coloured nipples. She belonged to him and he had done this to her—but he wasn’t finished, not nearly finished. Bryant took one areola between his teeth and gently bit. She moaned and arched into his mouth. He sucked hard. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder.

He yanked up her skirt, slid a thigh between her legs, and rubbed against her mound. Her cream moistened his hose. Riana began to rock against his leg. Bryant breathed deep and his balls tightened in response to her musky scent. He grasped her waist, eyes glued to the breasts that stretched taut with each thrust of her chest towards him as she rode his thigh.

“By God, you tempt me,” he growled.

Her head snapped up and she stilled, gaze locked on his face. Bryant grasped her dress and pulled it over her head. She lifted her arms as he tugged it free. He let the fabric fall to the floor, gaze fixed on the glistening thatch of curls pressed against his leg. He reached between them and traced the seam of her cunt lips. She shivered. He slipped a finger inside her folds. By God, she was so wet even her swollen nub dripped with juices. He began to massage the pleasure point, and her nails bit into his shoulders. He massaged faster. She moaned and began to rock against his hand. With a quick motion, he flicked her engorged sex.

He slid a finger inside. Riana gasped. He plunged hard and fast. Her moans of pleasure echoed in the tiny room.

“More,” she begged.

Bryant yanked down his hose and wrapped thick fingers around his erection. He milked his cock from base to crown as he continued to finger-f*ck his wife. Unexpected emotion washed over him. Wife. He shoved harder and faster inside her. She belonged to him. No other man would ever again give her this pleasure. She cried out and arched into his hand. Her walls closed around his finger in a strong convulsion.

Need rammed through him. He squeezed his cock. He would spend himself by his own hand if he wasn’t careful. When they left this room, he needed to be able to say he’d sheathed himself inside her hot, wet channel. She must be fully and completely his. No one would be able to challenge their union. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder. The final convulsions faded. He pulled his finger from within her. How many more times could he make her come?

* * * *

Riana’s knees weakened, but Sir Bryant steadied her with sure hands as he removed his leg from between her thighs. His cock, long, hard, and glistening at the slit, pointed in her direction as if to command her to her knees before him. Enthralled, she traced a finger around the crown.

He sucked in a breath. “Do not stop.”

Her heart fluttered. He craved her touch. Slowly, she trailed a feather-light finger down his length. The rod pulsed. Her heart jumped into an erratic beat. She had been f*cked by many men, seen their lust drive them to use her over and over, but had never been thrilled by the power she held over a man as she was now. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his girth and stretched the skin taut over the head. He groaned and thrust into her hand, his length stretching well beyond her palm edge.

Still gripping him tightly, Riana knelt. He remained stock still as she leaned in to him and traced her nipple with the tip of his shaft. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of his fisted hands. She tracked the underside of his length with her nipple, pressing her breasts against him, and lapped at the pre-cum seeping from his slit. Its salty tang burst across her tongue. A groan rumbled from his chest and she looked up to see his head back, eyes closed. His arousal, the effect she had on him, clenched her stomach.

She reached between his legs and cupped his balls. He jerked, but didn’t command her to stop. Lightly, she ran her fingers over the sac. The tremble in his legs sent a thrill through her. Riana fitted the tip of his shaft to her lips and slowly sucked him in a few inches then pulled back, grazing the sensitive crown with her teeth. With both hands, he grasped her head, keeping her steady as she again sucked him inside, this time until his cock bumped into the roof of her mouth and her lips met her palm edge. His cock hardened even more.

With her free hand, Riana reached around him and grasped his arse, pulling him tighter against her mouth. He pulled out, then thrust in with her sucking, the muscles in his buttocks bunching with the obvious effort of not cramming his cock down her throat. She pulled back, letting his cock slip free of her mouth, but quickly sucked the underside from tip to root then, slowly, back up again.

“Riana,” he growled.

Taking him into her mouth again, she lifted her eyes as she sucked him deep. He stared down, green eyes dark with desire. Her pulse quickened. He wanted her—not the duchess’ whore, but her, Lady Riana Ellis, now Lady Riana, his wife. She squeezed his balls. He tunnelled his hands into her hair as he thrust deeper into her mouth, eyes fixed on her face.

She moved faster. His jaw tensed. Once he had come inside her mouth, would he remain hard enough to f*ck her cunt? He tunnelled his fingers into her hair. His scent filled her nostrils. She wanted to taste him and have him inside her when he exploded. Faster, he thrust into her mouth.

“Riana,” he gasped, “we must—”

Shouts outside the room broke into their private moment. Sir Bryant’s head snapped towards the door as it burst open. Four men-at-arms stood in the doorway. Riana froze, Sir Bryant’s cock still in her mouth, and the lead warrior’s gaze riveted onto her. Sir Bryant seized her shoulders and dragged her to her feet. He shoved her behind him as he dragged his hose up over his erection.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“We are here to take Lady Ellis back to the duke.” The man in the lead stepped forward.

Sir Bryant widened his stance. “Touch my wife, and die.”