Medieval 03 - Enchanted

it asidewhile Ariane’s slender fingers teased him
from tip to base and back again.
    “You are magnificent, my lord,” Ariane
whispered.
    Fire ignited at her words, drawing Simon even
tighter, fuller, his life’s blood coursing visibly beneath
her fingertips. He shuddered at the certainty of his own potency
like a torrent pouring through him.
    “You have bewitched my body,” Simon
said huskily. “No woman has ever aroused me as completely as
you do. I have just taken you and I must have you again.”
    “I am here.”
    Leaning forward, Ariane touched the tip of her
tongue to him, stealing the sultry drop that she had summoned from
the depths of Simon’s need.
    “You taste as the sun must taste,” she
whispered. “Burning.”
    “I taste like you. You are the fire burning
me.”
    “’Tis you, Simon.” Ariane’s
tongue touched him again. “You are my sun. Before you there
was only darkness.”
    Simon groaned and fought to subdue the urgency that
was raking through him with sweet talons. When he could breathe
again, he bent and slid one hand from Ariane’s ankles to the
midnight triangle just above her thighs.
    Her breath caught at the intensity in his look.
“Simon?”
    “Give me leave, my lady.”
    Slowly Ariane shifted her legs until there was no
barrier to Simon’s touch. He knelt between her legs. Gently
his fingers parted her until he could trace the flushed, sensitive
folds. Her breath broke and he knew again the sultry rain of her
pleasure.
    “You are more sensual than I hoped,”
Simon whispered, “hotter even than my dreams.”
    Two fingers probed, parted, then slid deeply into
Ariane, stretching her. She gasped and felt pleasure surge sharply
through her, spilling onto his hand.
    “You’re inside me,” Ariane said,
torn between surprise and desire. “ Touching me .”
    Simon inhaled sharply. The heady spice of her
response infused the very air he breathed, arousing him even more
in turn.
    “You hold back nothing,” he said
huskily, “hide nothing, give everything.”
    Simon felt his control unraveling, but he no longer
cared. Ariane was trembling with forerunners of ecstasy, her every
breath broken and as hot as the pulses his touch drew from her. The
sultry, tangible proof that he wasn’t caught alone in the
sensual storm made it impossible for Simon to hold back any
longer.
    “Next time,” he said as he slid his
hands beneath Ariane’s knees, “next time I will undress
you and know you fully awake as I have known you in my
dreams.”
    Simon caressed Ariane’s legs, parting them
even more.
    “Next time,” he said, “I will
kiss you until you are silk and fire beneath my mouth and I can
taste the delicious certainty of your ecstasy.”
    Ariane’s eyes widened as Simon’s hands
shifted smoothly, powerfully, and she found herself suddenly with
her legs draped over the crook of his arms, fully opened to
him.
    “But not this time,” Simon said.
“This time I must have you. Now .”
    He drove into her, filling her completely.
    Ariane gasped at the sunburst of fiery pleasure
that blazed deep within her. The hard, complete joining was both
overwhelming and exquisite. His name splintered on her lips,
reflection of the ecstasy stitching through her body.
    “Aye, my wild nightingale. No matter what
happened in the past, this is the only truth that matters. You burn
for me as no woman ever has.”
    Simon began moving fully within Ariane, watching
their joined bodies, his whole being focused in theelemental union. Cries rippled from her lips, soft
whimpers that spoke of sensuality unleashed, an incandescent truth
that was beyond any shadow of lie.
    Pleasure drenched her, infusing the very air with
heat.
    “Yes,” Simon said huskily. “Bathe
me in your desire. There is no need to talk of a past rape. No
ravished maid could know the sensuous tricks you do.”
    Ariane barely heard the words, and even then they
had no meaning to her. A muscular thrust of Simon’s body had
sent sweet lightning stabbing through her mind, cutting away all
possibility of thought. Her being was racked with pleasure as her
breath unraveled in a rippling cry.
    “Aye, nightingale. Sing to me of fire. I
don’t care about the past. I care only about this .”
    Simon surged against Ariane, rubbing the sleek nub
of her passion between their bodies. He smiled to feel her
response, the shudder and the silken burst of heat. He vowed to
feel it again and yet again, until he finally knew the depths of
her