Knight's Prize (25 page)

He
growled as his legs eased apart of their own will, welcoming her caress. The
little imp truly knew her power, and he saw by the spark of rivalry in her eyes
that she wasn't about to cede that power, not if she could help it.

He'd
have to make sure she couldn't. He dragged his hand to her other breast,
plucking at its peak until she bit at her bottom lip in ecstasy.

But
he hadn't won yet. She nuzzled at his neck, working her way up to his ear,
then the sly wench slipped the tip of her tongue into the sensitive recesses
there, and a wave of overwhelming desire seemed to melt his very bones.

He
held naught back then, plunging his hand betwixt the two of them with pointed
precision, pressing at the soft juncture of her thighs where he knew she ached
for him.

She
drew in a ragged breath, and he chuckled in heady triumph. But when she began
to scrabble beneath his tabard at the lacing of his braies, his humor vanished.

Sweet
Mary, was she going to...

His
question was answered an instant later when she loosened the ties and began
rooting inside his braies. His mutinous hips angled upward, guiding her hands.

Yet even
in the midst of intense pleasure, he managed to launch his own counterattack.
He threw back her skirts with lusty vengeance and delved his hand into the soft
hair guarding her womanhood.

She
cried out in astonishment, and in the next amazing instant, her passion took
an almost violent turn. Her free arm snagged him about the neck, and she
crushed demanding lips to his. He moaned against her teeth as her hand found
the naked flesh of his cock, releasing it from its confines.

Scarcely
able to think, he nonetheless managed to slide his fingers farther into her
nest of downy curls, parting her nether lips to locate the straining bud
between them.

She
squeaked, jerking back as if he'd burned her, then quickly recovered, thrusting
her hips forward against his palm again as she kissed him even more fervently.

She
became an animal, lunging at him, growling and snarling and devouring him with
her mouth, while she relentlessly stroked his swollen staff. Ill prepared for
such unmitigated aggression, he reared back in surrender beneath her onslaught,
enough to make the three-legged stool list dangerously.

It
tilted and careened, and just before it tipped over, he tried to cast her away,
to save her, but she clung to him with the tenacity of a dog with a bone. As
the stool toppled backward, he fell, she followed, and they hit the ground
together.

Fortunately,
a few sacks of grain absorbed most of the impact, though Rand doubted he'd have
felt much pain, not with so much pleasure counteracting it. At least he had the
foresight to break from the kiss before they struck, so their teeth remained
intact.

He
thought the fall would jar Miriel back to her senses and destroy the mood.

He
was wrong.

As
if she hadn't just been thrown to the ground, she continued to assail him, raining
kisses over his jaw, his neck, his ears, his mouth. She'd never let go of his
cock, and now she explored his every inch, milking him with shameless daring.
Her very boldness drove him to utter abandon.

His
hand found its unerring way to that sweet spot betwixt her thighs. She'd grown
moist with his fondling, and his fingers slipped easily over the slick folds.
She moaned and surged forward, as if she might impale herself upon his hand.

Lord,
she wanted more. And he wanted to give it to her.

With
a whimper of frustration, she snagged her free fist in the front of his tabard.
Then she hauled him with her as she rolled onto her back in the rushes, away
from the bags of grain and her desk, leaving him looming over her like a
ravishing barbarian.
 

He
felt
barbaric.
He was wild-eyed and breathless and as rigid as a poleaxe.

But
Miriel was no cowering maid. Eagerly accepting the burden of his body atop
hers, she wrapped her stockinged legs around his buttocks and writhed in
delicious torment beneath him.

************************************

Miriel
gasped as Rand's fingers again invaded her most secret place, strumming her
like an expert lutist, till her body vibrated with the most amazing music.
 
She'd never felt anything so wonderful, so
intoxicating, so... disabling.

Rand's
touch upon her there was more paralyzing than any pressure point. He had her at
his mercy now. She was in peril of losing command of the situation. And her
wits.

Part
of her wanted to break away in panic. The other part wanted to silence the
first part and surrender to the exquisite sensations. But she couldn't, not
yet.

She
opened her eyes a crack and peered at the back wall. They were almost out of
sight of the tunnel now. One more sideways tumble, and his view would be completely
obstructed.

She
caught her breath as Rand's cock pulsed again in her hand. 'Twas a miraculous
thing, really, much different than she'd imagined, warm and smooth and responsive,
and the way it nestled in her palm, as if it belonged there, inexplicably excited
her. Forsooth, the throbbing staff seemed almost as sensitive as her own nether
parts. Best of all, 'twas a point of vulnerability and an effective source of
distraction.

If
she could only keep
herself
from
being distracted.

With
a soft, lusty growl, she released him and wriggled her arms up between them to
tug impatiently at the shoulders of his tabard.

He
immediately sensed her intent. When he withdrew his hands from her to pull the
garment off over his head, she had a small span of time where she could think
clearly.

At
least, she'd
assumed
she
could think clearly. But once she glimpsed his naked chest, broad and
sun-kissed and firmly muscled, her sense of logic fled, and she couldn't resist
reaching out to touch him.

He
held himself up on his arms, letting her explore. A fine sheen of sweat
dampened his skin, allowing her ringers to slide easily over the supple flesh.
His nipples were dark and flat, but when she rubbed a thumb across one of them,
it instantly hardened, lending her a curious thrill of power. A jagged diagonal
scar crossed his breast, and she traced the puckered mark, then let her
fingertip follow the fine line of dark hair that started above his navel and
led downward.

'Twas
the sudden surge of his cock against her belly that jarred her from her
exploration, reminding her they were not yet out of sight of the passageway.

With
a husky sigh, she pushed at his chest, urging him sideways. He rolled over
willingly, and she wound up astride him, blushing to discover that when their
hips aligned, she could feel the swelling of his cock between her legs.

He
closed his eyes, grimacing as if she tortured him, and 'twas a heady feeling,
knowing she could control him with the mere shift of her thighs.

But
he
shifted
to press more fully against her, and when his heated flesh contacted hers,
'twas like a bolt of hot fire shot through her loins.

She
arched back, and his hands captured her breasts, holding her there for a
blissful moment before he untied her surcoat and dragged the garment down over
her shoulders.

The
linen of her underdress rasped across her nipples as he slowly pulled her
surcoat down. When her breasts at last sprang free of the garment, she squirmed
loose from the sleeves as well, letting the fabric gather about her waist.

His
palms slipped up her stomach to cup her bare breasts. She sighed. His knight's
calluses felt foreign and rough and forbidden, yet 'twas as if his hands
belonged there, fitting her perfectly.

Suddenly
he moved one hand up to catch the back of her neck, pulling her down for a
kiss. Naught could prepare her for the ecstasy of their melded flesh. His
chest felt heavenly against her breasts, like the most warming, healing bath.

When
their lips made contact, she relaxed against him, sinking into the soothing
waters of seduction, reveling in the waves of desire lapping against her skin.
Their tongues mated with sensual leisure, a leisure that belied the rapid
beating of her heart.

In
the end, she didn't have to nudge him over the last few inches. He took the
initiative, cradling her, rolling them over together with practiced grace so
that he could take command.

Of
course, now she could end the whole pretense. She no longer needed to distract
him. The gaping hole was out of sight. She was safe.

She'd
resume the air of a shy maiden now. She'd blush over her indiscretion and cover
her bosom with her arms. Perchance she'd even squeeze out a few tears.

Right
after Rand finished this next kiss.

Or
two.

Or
five.

Lord,
his mouth was irresistible, gentle yet demanding all at once. She wondered
wickedly how his lips would feel upon her breast.

As
if he divined her mind, he let his mouth slip from hers, kissing her cheek, her
neck, her shoulder, descending inexorably toward her straining nipple while she
waited in breathless anticipation.

One
kiss upon her breast, just to see what 'twould feel
like,
then
she'd stop him.

When
his lips closed around the taut bud, she arched her head back, astonished by
the current that streaked through her body, seeming to connect all the most sen
sitive
places.
Her mouth dropped open in wonder as he suckled with tender care for a long
while, finally finishing
with
a lazy lap of his tongue.

Of
course, she couldn't let him leave her unbalanced. Biting her lip, and
promising herself she'd make him cease in another moment, she offered her other
breast.

With
a low chuckle, he obliged her, circling the nipple with light, teasing kisses
until she forcefully thrust her breast between his lips. This time he drew hard
on her nipple, and it felt as if the suction reached all the way to that spot
between her legs, for there she began to quiver with need as well.

He
finally released her with a soft, wet smack, then blew gently on her nipple,
making her gasp with chill.

Now,
she thought. Now she'd make him stop.

But
in the next moment his fingers began to smooth the curls at the juncture of her
thighs, and she instinctively tilted her hips up to increase the pressure of
his touch. His hand felt so right upon her, comforting and arousing at the same
time.

She
was treading on treacherous ground, but she couldn't seem to step back.

When
his fingers separated her moist folds, delving with delicate insistence into
the slick, secret hollows, her emotions swelled like a rushing river, hurtling
toward a precipice over which she couldn't help but fall.

She
had to do something to make him stop, no matter how much she longed to have him
continue. And in the rising turmoil of her feelings, she could think of only
one way to regain her advantage and control, one way to make him vulnerable and
win the upper hand.

While
he continued to pleasure her, she snaked one arm down below his waist and
grabbed hold of his cock again. To her satisfaction, he sucked a hard breath
between his teeth.

Now
she had him, she thought. Just as in effective sparring, she'd quickly learned
her opponent's weakness and seized upon it.

For
one fleeting moment, caught off guard, he stiffened, unable to continue
assailing her, and she enjoyed the dominance, stroking his velvety staff like a
favorite pet.

Too
soon he recovered. This time he attacked her with a vengeance, holding naught
back. His fingers danced with frantic virtuosity between her legs until she
felt her advantage slipping away as inevitably as the ocean tide.

Yet even
while he coaxed her body to betray her, he thrust himself within her hand,
sliding along her belly, making tortuous friction between them, to effect his
own demise.