Unexpected Pleasures (16 page)

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Authors: Mary Wine

BOOK: Unexpected Pleasures
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She growled at him, still struggling to draw enough breath into her lungs to supply her racing heart. All of her thoughts were in a jumble, her emotions mixed with them, making it impossible to sort them out.
“That was unfair.” She sat up and sent her hand out to strike him.
He snorted with amusement before catching her hand and pushing it to the opposite side of her body. Her arm was crossed over her chest, and he leaned down over her face, his eyes filled with satisfaction.
“I never promised to be fair, Justina, only that I would prevail.”
He slid his hand beneath her shoulder and flipped her over onto her belly. But he didn't leave her there; he gripped her hips, lifting them and pulling her back so that her knees bent to raise her bottom into the air.
“I told you that I would have you and I will.” His cock pressed against the opening of her sheath, the flared head stretching her body as it tunneled deeper inside her. The walls of her passage resisted slightly but her climax had left her wet, making it easy for him to thrust deep inside her.
“And you will enjoy being had.”
His hands gripped her hips while he snarled his last few words. She offered him only a half sound that was part moan and part whine. There were no more thoughts in her mind; there was nothing but his hard flesh filling her. It unleashed another round of need, but this time she needed his cock to feed it.
“Yes! I want to enjoy it.”
“Then you shall!”
He held her hips in a grip that might have normally hurt her, but at the moment it felt perfect. His hips began to flex forward and back, driving his hard length deep inside her. Her clitoris was still sensitive from her climax and the position allowed it only the lightest of touches. That was the only part of their bedding that was delicate. Synclair rode her hard, penetrating her passage with quick thrusts that did not slow down. The bed rocked and the canopy swayed but she didn't care, she pushed her hands against the sheet and braced herself for his pace, enjoying the slap of his body against her own.
She felt his cock hardening, the head swelling once again.
“Yes.”
“No!” He suddenly pulled out of her and turned her onto her back. His hands captured her wrists, pinning them to the surface of the bed above her head.
“You will climax with me this time.”
He slid back into her and their new position allowed his cock to slide across her clitoris completely. She whimpered, needing to release the tension building up inside her.
“And you will take my seed.”
He growled and she opened her eyes to see a muscle on the side of his jaw twitching. His eyes glowed with need so intense, she became hypnotized by it. Drawn toward it just like the only light in a dark forest. Her body moved with his, arching up to take each thrust, and a moment later pleasure burst deep inside her belly. She had felt it before but this was harder, and she released a sob with the intensity of it. Every one of her muscles strained up toward her partner, and she heard him groan as his seed began to flood her. He pressed deep, lodging his length tight inside her while their cries mingled and she lost the ability to tell whose was whose. In that moment they were one, joined so completely, there was no possibility of separation.
“Oh Christ, I cannot breathe!”
She struggled against him, her heart racing so fast she felt it might burst. Her wrists were suddenly free, and he lifted his chest away from hers, but remained deep inside her while they both struggled to regain enough breath.
Justina was too hot, her skin covered in perspiration. She wiggled away from her lover, and he rolled onto his back, jolting the bed yet again when he allowed his weight to drop on it. But he reached for her hand, locking his fingers around her wrist while they both panted. Delight was still rippling through her, carrying away every concern. Her eyelids closed, and she sighed as her heart regained a normal rhythm. She felt the winter chill again but Synclair pulled the covers up to shield her from it. Once the thick blankets were over her body, she felt him curl along her back, his arms embracing her while his legs tangled with her.
Tenderness filled the spot where yearning had been. His member was spent against her bottom and yet he clung to her. She tried to savor the moment but slumber took her away before she had much of a chance to.
Lovers truly were worth risking everything for.
 
Justina smiled as she awoke. She had not slept so deeply nor so soundly in too many nights to count. She nuzzled against the bedding, convinced that it was by far finer than any she had ever laid upon before. Her mind began to form thoughts again, in spite of how comfortable she was.
Synclair was curled around her, his breathing even and deep. The chamber was dark, but the sort of darkness that hinted at dawn approaching. The bed curtains were not drawn and the fire had died down to nothing but ash. The candles were no longer burning either, but her gown was still crumpled on the floor where it had dropped.
She sighed, a silent little lament for the fact that time waited for no one. She moved slowly, drawing her feet away from Synclair's and freezing to make sure he continued to sleep. She turned her head and listened to his breathing; it was still slow and even, so she moved further away from him, making sure that the bedding was tucked against him so that the cold winter air didn't rouse him.
“Do you truly believe you can find your way back to the palace in the dark?”
Justina jumped, turning over to face Synclair like a child caught stealing a tart from the kitchen between meals. His eyes were focused and clear, no hint of sleep clouding them.
“I must return to Whitehall, you know that.”
His expression betrayed none of his thoughts, even his eyes narrowed.
“I do not wish to fight about it, please understand.”
He inclined his head. “I understand why you think you must return, but I disagree with you, Lady.”
Tears burned her eyes because she did not want to leave him and there seemed to be no way to avoid it.
“I'm sorry, Synclair, but I will not abandon my son to Biddeford's whims.”
“Even when he sets you to prostitution?”
She stiffened. “Better I suffer than my son.”
Synclair let out a disgusted sound. “I agree that your child would come to no good in the hands of your guardian.”
Justina should have been relieved to hear him agree with her but instead pain filled her chest because she knew without a doubt that they were destined to part. Sorrow carved a deep path down the center of her chest. “I am sorry, Synclair, but at least you understand why I must go.”
She offered him a last look that was full of longing before she gathered her courage and slid out of the bedding. Her feet touched the floor and she stood up, intent on hurrying to her clothing. Something jerked her wrist when she gained three paces from the bed. She heard the metallic sound of links hitting one another before she turned to look at the chain that bound her to the bed. A small manacle was locked around her left wrist and a length of chain ran from it to the bedpost.
“I am sorry, too, Justina, but I have no intention of allowing you to return to that bastard.”
Her mind was in shock, her gaze locked on the chain and what it meant. Justina pulled on it, certain she had to be somehow imagining the moment, but the chain held and the manacle bruised her wrist. “This is barbaric. Release me at once!”
Synclair sat up and swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed, giving her his back. In spite of seeing that the chain was solid, she couldn't help jerking against it another time.
It held true, binding her without mercy to the huge bed.
“Synclair!”
He walked past her and stepped into his britches. There was a hard set to his face that sent dread through her.
“You cannot mean to lock me up here.”
But the look in his eyes was familiar and she recognized it from when he had approached her last night. He shrugged into his shirt and carried her chemise in one hand. There was nothing in his eyes but ruthless determination.
He held out the chemise. “I must go see to a few things.” His attention dropped to her wrist with its manacle. “You will be here when I return.”
“You brute!”
She aimed a slap at his face and the sound was loud in the predawn stillness. Synclair turned his head with the blow but beyond that, he did nothing to avoid her strike. He dropped her chemise on the bed before turning and walking to the door.
“You cannot do this.”
“I have, Justina, and I will keep you.” He turned to look at her. “So get back into bed before you catch a chill.”
“But my son—”
“You shall have to trust me with the well-being of your child, Justina. I will not allow Biddeford to harm him.”
The door shut behind him and her jaw actually dropped with astonishment. Her temper flared up, threatening to light her hair on fire, it was so hot.
Oh men!
Power hungry, every last one of them. She tugged on her bound wrist but only managed to bruise the skin on her hand. She tried to make her hand into different shapes to allow the manacle to slide over the bones, but none of her efforts gained her anything but more pain. She cursed as she began to shiver, her body chilled.
It would serve him right if she did take ill.
She sighed, disgusted by her own childish thinking. Reaching for her chemise, she pulled it over her head only to discover that it was impossible to put her left arm through the sleeve. Her right arm was in the sleeve but that left half the garment resting on her shoulder and baring the entire left side of her body.
So she was chained to the man's bed ... nude.
She began to shiver, her teeth chattering. With a snort she tossed the chemise aside and climbed back into bed. The covers had lost their warmth and she pulled them close to have them hold her body heat against her. Justina curled onto her side, with her eyes upon the door. Synclair was in for a surprise if he thought she would submit meekly to his plan to keep her.
Except that he had already imprisoned her. The long months at Amber Hill flooded her with their endless hours of worrying over Brandon's fate. It sickened her to think that the man she'd embraced as her lover would force her to endure such a betrayal.
Yet wasn't that the fate of most lovers? Bitter betrayals that often led to misery. Tears slid from her eyes and she failed to control them. It was foolish to cry, a waste of energy and emotions, but she could not seem to talk herself into stopping. The pillow beneath her cheek became wet while she huddled beneath the bedding, her heart torn.
That was the truth of what taking a lover did to a woman. It separated her from her family. It was a torment indeed. Brandon or Synclair, she would have to live without one of them being happy.
 
A soft knock woke her. Justina blinked, wondering how she could have fallen asleep with so much turmoil inside her. The burning in her eyes reminded her that she had wept, and that gained a disgusted mutter from her as she sat up. Crying always wasted energy and she had fallen asleep like a child after allowing her emotions such freedom.
“Excuse me, mistress, I did not mean to wake you.” It was the housekeeper who stood in the doorway. The woman was a credit to her position for she did not poke her head around a partially opened door, instead the woman stood firmly in the doorframe, ready to face any displeasure without cringing.
“It's too late to be sleeping. I am glad you woke me.” Light was spilling in through the open door. Justina looked at the windows. There were floor-to-ceiling draperies covering them. The fabric was thick and they were designed in such long lengths to keep the morning light from disturbing the master of the house if he should choose to lie abed after dawn.
“The master suggested a bath before he departed.”
A bath, of course! She had to think of any reason to be unlocked. Her gaze flew to the ring of keys hanging from the housekeeper's belt.
“I should adore a bath.” Justina pushed her hand into view, so that the housekeeper might fit one of those black keys into the lock, but the woman only turned to address someone in the hallway.
“Bring the tub.”
The double doors were both opened wide and two burly women carried a slipper tub into the chamber. One end was higher than the other, making it a comfortable tub for bathing. It was a newer design and this one was made of silver, so that it would not rust.
“I have only women with me, since the master told me you are unclothed.”
Justina snorted. The unladylike sound gained her looks from the women bringing the tub in.
“Surely you have a bathroom below stairs. I do not need such service, simply unlock me and I shall bathe below.”

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