Page 106 of Nightshade

“You like when I speak to you so crudely?”

She nodded and moaned again, as he filled her so deeply, her stomach tensed.

“You are my lady, Lustina. But when we are together, like this, I want you to be my whore. Does that trouble you?”

On the contrary, the thought excited her. Perhaps because he truly had treated her like a lady--the only boy who ever had. In fact, since their first tryst in the woods, she’d found him to be exceptionally more reverent of her. Protective. Jealous, even.

“Tonight, I will fuck my own hand to thoughts of you. The hand which touches your lips now will stroke me to ecstasy later.”

At that, she moaned again, the sound muffled by his palm. Tiny contractions pulsed up inside her belly, a sensation she’d noticed every time she’d been with him. Small uncontrollable jolts which seemed to be given off by his flesh. A vibration that gripped her insides, milking her arousal.

“How does it feel to sin in the very church where holy men take their vows? To be taken like an animal in the home of the Holy Father?”

Her knees nearly buckled with his words, her entire body trembling with the climax building inside of her like a kettle, ready to boil over. She let out panting grunts, and when he reached in front of her with his other hand and stroked her sensitive flesh, she flattened her palms against the wall in an effort to keep upright.

“Please,” she begged behind his hand.

“Do you enjoy the way my cock feels inside of you?”

She nodded and curled her fingers into the stones, as he flittered his finger across her seam. The sensation left her wanting to sob.

“Is it release you desire, Lustina?”

She nodded frantically, whimpering into his hand as the tension in her body wound to unbearable intensity.

“Will you scream when I fill you?”

Another nod, and she let out an agonizing moan.

“Then, give me your release.”

Unable to stand it any longer, she tipped her head back against his chest and let the waves of pleasure crash over her. Pulse after agonizing pulse left her screaming into his palm, as he’d commanded of her. She could barely stand upright as her legs turned weak and soft.

He spun her around and lifted her up off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist. Head resting against her breast, he drove into her with the desperate determination of a man in search of the holy grail. He tipped his head back, staring up at her with the veneration of a knight kneeling before his queen. Body shuddering, he let out a quiet sound of utter relief and pulled her tightly against him, as he filled her with the warmth of his release.

His brows came together, and he reached for her hair, stroking his hand down the long, raven locks. “You are mine, eternally.” He pressed his lips to hers, eating the air from her mouth. “And I am yours.”

* * *

Hiding her smile, Lustina emerged from the undercroft, fixing the skirt of her dress. The evidence of Jericho’s release trickled down her thighs, and at the thought of standing before the bishop as it dried to her skin, she wanted to chuckle. The baron had ventured in the opposite direction, heading back up to the cathedral to meet with his father, but not before he’d taken a moment to stare at her disheveled body, with her breasts peeking out from her dress.

“Lustina,” a familiar voice called to her, and she turned to find Drystan crossing the courtyard toward her. “May I talk to you?”

The sight of him trampled her mood, and she groaned. “I would rather not.”

“Please. I promise I just want to apologize.”

“Then, apologize.”

“Will you please give me just a moment of your time?”

With a huff, she crossed her arms. “Fine. Say what you have to say.”

“Not here.” The pleading in his eyes did nothing for her. It was only the risk of someone thinking they might be up to something that had her following after him, to the undercroft from where she’d just met with Jericho. Reluctant to step into the alcove where she’d just had her dress hiked, she halted before one of the doors.

After a quick glance around, Drystan opened it and drew her inside with him. The room darkened as he closed the door, the only light coming from the cracks in the wood.

“I don’t … I don’t feel comfortable.” She strode toward the door, but not before he blocked her path. “I want out of here.”