Medieval 02 - Forbidden

Duncan sat up and drew Amber’s leg across his thighs until she was astride him, open to him. He found her drenched with the same passion that made his body gleam as though polished with oil.
    His hand moved between her thighs, testing and savoring her in the same caress. His fingers came away glistening with her desire. Watching her, he lifted his hand and breathed in deeply, infusing himself with her fragrance.
    “Next time,” he said, “I shall know your taste as well. But not this time. This time I am already undone by your sweet mouth.”
    “You look quite whole,” she whispered.
    Her fingertip rested for an instant on him, just long enough to steal the single, hot drop that had eluded his control. When she brushed her fingertip over her lips, tasted, and smiled, Duncan made the sound of a man in torment. Another drop welled up, called by her pleasure in him.
    “Come, witch. Ride the dragon you have summoned from mortal flesh.”
    “How does a maid ride a dragon?”
    “Like this.”
    Duncan’s hands closed on Amber’s hips, pulling her closer even as he lifted her. A instant later his blunt, eager flesh parted her. With a cry offulfillment, she slid down on him, claiming him as deeply as he was claiming her.
    Amber tried to say Duncan’s name, but could not. His pleasure in her had stolen her voice. The sudden clenching of his hands on her hips scattered her thoughts and focused her desire. She began moving, riding him more surely with each slow motion of her hips, feeling his passion and her own with unusual clarity.
    When he would have speeded the pace of the ride, Amber lifted one of his hands, kissed it, and put it on her breast.
    “You’re enjoying tormenting me,” Duncan said through his teeth.
    “Aye.”
    His fingers closed on the taut peak of Amber’s breast. A delicate convulsion shivered through her, forerunner of the ecstasy to come. When his hands caressed both nipples into hardness, her back arched and her breath tore. The sweet heat of her passion flowed between their joined bodies.
    “Yes,” Duncan whispered. “Let me feel your pleasure.”
    Without warning, ecstasy ravished Amber, setting her to shivering and crying. He thrust into her, fusing their bodies together with the searing pulses of his own release.
    Feeling Duncan’s ecstasy increased Amber’s, driving her even higher. He rocked his hips against her until she called his name and came completely undone once more.
    Then he held her against his chest until both of them could breathe evenly again. Only then did he move, reversing positions until he lay between her legs. He kissed her slowly, deeply.
    “Each time you please me more,” Duncan said.
    “And you please me more. ’Tis almost frightening.”
    “Why?”
    “If I enjoyed you any more,” Amber whispered, “I would die.”
    “And I would bring you back to life.”
    “’Tis impossible.”
    “Nay. ’Tis inevitable.”
    “We can’t,” she whispered, understanding what he intended. “Can we?”
    “We must. We will. Watch me as I watched you. Learn how much I cherish you.”
    Slowly Duncan slid down Amber’s body, turning his face from side to side, caressing her with his lips and his words.
    “Take me to the place where there are no shadows, only fire,” he said. “Give me the flower that blooms more beautifully each time.”
    Amber had no defenses against Duncan’s aching need. Nor did he. It was a passion more complex than any he had ever felt. It was an emotion whose name he did not know, for he had never guessed such a feeling existed.
    It was thirst in the midst of sweet water, need in the midst of plenty, hunger in the midst of a feast.
    He could not get close enough to her.
    Tears filled Amber’s eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. Never had she thought to be cherished so sweetly, tiny kisses and secret tastes, his breath warm against her breasts, her navel, her thighs.
    Then Duncan’s mouth discovered her, tasted her, circled the bud that was the burning center of her passion. The unexpected caress was like lightning transfixing her, startling a cry from the back of her throat.
    “Precious Amber,” Duncan said, shivering with a torrent of desire. “I swear I can feel your passion like lightning transfixing you.”
    Delicately he caught her tender bud between his teeth. She cried out his name with each slow movement of his tongue. Then she could speak no more for she had no breath, she was splintering, crying, dying, consumed by an