A Knight of Passion - By Tarah Scott Page 0,22

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-fuck 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 fucked 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