Resting on one elbow, he trapped each shuddering whimper between his lips, stretched every sensitized cry into a wild kiss nearly as untamed as the woman in his arms.
Back and forth, he drew his fingers through her wet folds, felt her become even wetter. She just might melt in his hand, he thought, her body trembling as he pushed her closer to release. Her hips lifted, rocking to every thrum across her clit.
So very close.
Panting, her chest rose and fell, her breasts rubbing against him. The hunger to move inside her, thrusting hard, raced across his skin, pulling tight. With his mouth on hers, his tongue sliding fast and deep, he traced her damp seam, flicking over and around her clit.
She moaned low and deep, her body tightening, trembling so perfectly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the flush of color across her cheeks so striking it was impossible to look away, giving him the most amazing view as she finally shattered in his arms.
Desperate and needing her in a way he couldn’t remember ever needing anything, he shoved his pants out of the way. The head of his cock slid through her wetness, and forgetting to breathe, he pushed inside her.
Briana cried out, and he froze, staring down at her. He should stop, he knew it, but the moment the decision to pull away penetrated his sex-drenched haze, Briana wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her.
He didn’t deserve the gift she offered him, wasn’t sure he even deserved the tentative smile that wedged under his ribs.
“Please,” she murmured, the ragged plea almost destroying him.
Sliding a hand beneath her head, he lifted her to meet his mouth. Deliberately soft, he licked and stroked with his tongue, nipped and raked with his teeth.
Coiled so damn tight, the merest bump of her hips capable of snapping him in two, Lucan surrendered to the deepest parts she touched within him. He couldn’t allow himself to fall in love with her, but he could make sure every kiss, every lingering touch, every slow thrust left her quaking inside as hard as he was.
When her nails raked his back, her hips rocking again, he pressed deeper inside her.
They both groaned, the sounds raw and breathless and like they both might be losing their minds.
Every pump of his hips—slow, so achingly slow—heightened the sensations pummeling him. But he didn’t thrust any faster, didn’t bury every inch in hard, furious strokes. If he did, the pleasure just might kill him. The brutal heat of it thumped through him, sweet and scorching.
Her soft cries bled into each other, her hips lifting to fit so snuggly against him he grit his teeth as if it would hold off the tide rising swift and sharp.
“Briana,” he choked out, locking their fingers and burying his face against her throat.
Riding the fine edge of release, he drove into her, felt the silken heat spasm around him, tugging him deeper. Caught in a savage free-fall, like someone had shoved him from the highest tower in Camelot, he held on to her.
One last wild thrust and he burst apart, pumping hard and fast and knowing somehow she would catch him, hold him just as tight.
A sharp tug on his hair, and she dragged him back to her mouth, the feral possession in her kiss a blow to the heart that pounded in time with hers.
He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, the languid strokes of her fingers down his back finally returning him to awareness. Rising up on his elbows, he couldn’t stop from crushing his mouth on hers once more, willing her to understand that tonight meant more than he would ever be able to tell her.
All too soon she would turn from him, but right in this moment, she was his. Smart and beautiful and holding a piece of him that he hadn’t planned on giving anyone.
Savaged by the depth of his feelings, he lifted himself away from her, but wasn’t ready to let her go. He pulled her across his chest, letting his eyes close as her cheek settled over his heart.
“My family will be retiring soon, if they haven’t already,” she said long minutes later. “I need to go back.”
The refusal perched on his lips, but he clenched his jaw, silencing it. Dropping a kiss to his chest, she stood and picked up her dress. She slipped it up her body, drawing her hair to one side as she smiled at him over her shoulder.
Waiting for him to fix the laces?
He stood and gripped her hips, tugging her against his chest. He let her scent wash over and through him, memorizing it, then took a step back to fix her gown. Her smile was infectious, and he caught himself returning it many times as he readied himself to leave.
They walked back through the forest, reaching the meadow much too quickly.
She glanced in the direction of her family’s tents. Cheeks still flushed, gown wrinkled and hair tousled like she’d been rolling around in the forest, she couldn’t have looked more incredible to him. But anyone she passed would take one look at her and guess what she’d been up to.
“This way.” He grabbed her hand, leading her back toward his tent, which was much closer and at the edge of the forest where they’d be less likely to run across anyone. A quick stop there would give her the opportunity to tidy up and him a few more precious minutes with her.
Drops of rain splattered the grass at their feet, quickening their steps.
After confirming that no one paid them any notice, Lucan drew back the door to his tent, ushered her inside. “There’s water—” He stopped at the sight of the woman waiting inside.
Her grin faded the moment she noticed he wasn’t alone. “Hello.”
Briana stopped next to him, confusion giving way to a guarded expression. She glanced at him, her fingers slipping free of his when he all he wanted to do was cling to them.
“You should return to your family.” The words didn’t even sound like his. The detached tone reminded him of his father and the day he’d found out he was expected to marry the woman standing so still in front of him.
Lucan’s stomach churned, frustration and anger rising close to the surface, held in place only by the guilt that felt far worse than anything else. He forced himself to meet Briana’s eyes.
Her lips parted, understanding darkening the eyes that would haunt him for a long time to come he was sure.
He handed her Constantine’s sword. “We’ll speak tomorrow.”
She didn’t tell him to throw himself onto a pyre and burn, nor did she nod. She turned and walked away without a sound.
Alone in the tent, he crossed his arms. “What are you doing here, Gwen?”
She pulled her hood up, hiding her dark hair. “It was a mistake to come.” She walked past him.
Although he remained just as frustrated, his anger slipped away. He’d never been able to be mad at Gwen, not since they’d been children. He let out a breath. “Does he know you’re here?”
She stopped, shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face knowing Arthur wouldn’t quite see it that way.
“Do you care for her?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Like Gwen, it was all he would allow himself to say. Neither of them had any choice, their fate decided by their parents long ago.
Long after Gwen left, insisting she’d made other arrangements, he paced the confines of his tent, torn between leaving now and going to talk to Briana. Undecided, he walked outside, not caring that he was drenched in seconds.
He sat on the crate outside the door, tipping his face up to the stinging drops. Something fell against his foot and he glanced down to see what he knocked over.
The Blade of the Black Heart.
Chapter Nine
Lucan saw the blood the moment he opened his eyes and turned his head. A trail of crimson trickled from the corner of Briana’s mouth. She lay motionless on the ground next to him.