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duchess will know I was here.”
    Riana circled the weeping crown with her tongue. The clean tang of his pre-cum burst across her tongue and she wanted to weep for relief that this man wasn’t the vile creature she’d feared she would have to give herself to. She took the tip into her mouth and sucked his rod deep inside. He thrust into her. She grasped him at the root and began an in–and-out rhythm.
    He groaned and tunnelled long fingers into her hair. She continued the rhythm, slow, sure, and sucking hard. His thigh shifted beneath her cunt and she realised she’d stopped moving on him. Riana slowly slid her moist folds along his leg, careful not to lose the rhythm of her mouth on his cock. He thrust along her tongue until her palm edge met her mouth. He seized her shoulders and yanked her up.
    Before she realised his intent, he had hauled her onto his desk. Her legs hung off the edge and he eased her back onto the desktop. He spread her legs and stepped between her thighs. When his mouth closed around a pebbled nipple, he shifted and slid his shaft along her wet folds and into her curls. Riana recalled Sir Bryant, the feel of his cock buried deep in her channel…then her arse.
    Feather-light fingers made contact with her ribs, and swirled in slow circles. The soft swirls moved downwards into the curve of her waist, across her belly button, the barest ruffle across her curls until he slipped a long finger inside her. She arched into the sure, long strokes. Her channel walls tightened.
    For so long she had only pretended pleasure. Sir Bryant roused more , whispered a voice. The man whose fingers fucked her cunt was almost as large as the knight. Could he rouse passion in her? Might this task be pleasant? She closed her eyes, but instead of the warden, she saw Sir Bryant’s emerald green eyes, dark with passion as they had been only a few hours ago. The warden thrust his finger deeper inside her.
    Had those hours with the knight been a taste of what could have been, God's punishment for not being strong enough to resist the duchess’ threats? When faced with one’s sister being defiled by the Duke of Arundel, blind faith had a sting the priests failed to mention.
    The warden inserted a second finger inside her and quickened the thrusts while sucking harder on her nipple. Riana gasped. He shifted his mouth to the other nipple. She moaned, reaching deep for the pleasure that had come so easily with Sir Bryant. She became aware of the warden’s shaft, hard, insistent, rubbing against her mound.
    Riana reached down and brushed her fingertips across the velvety tip. He groaned and grasped the hand touching him. His fingers closed over hers as he wrapped them around his warm shaft and thrust into them. He broke off from her nipple and covered her mouth with his. Riana twined her free arm around his neck, drew him close until his chest pressed her breasts flat beneath the steely muscle.
    He flicked his tongue against her mouth and she opened for him. He plunged inside and their tongues twirled, his thrusts in time with his fingers inside her. She sucked his tongue hard and stretched his cock tight with the downward motion of her hand around him. He groaned, working his fingers faster, harder. She worked him faster, harder.
    Who was this man? Her heart squeezed and shame washed over her. She didn’t even know his name. He thrust into her palm, his rod hard and thick. The rhythm of his fingers faltered and his body spasmed with pleasure. His seed filled her hand. His hand covered hers and squeezed his cock harder. He froze for an instant, then relaxed. He didn’t move for a long moment. When he released her hand, he gently wiped her fingers clean on his tunic, then braced himself over her, and stared.
    “Perhaps you are worth risking the hangman’s noose.”
    “Sir!” a man shouted on the other side of the doorway.
    The warden’s head snapped in the direction of the door.
    “Out of my way, fool,” came another male