A Knight Of Desire (Knights of Passion)

A Knight Of Desire (Knights of Passion) by Evie North Page B

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Authors: Evie North
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circling her nipples, his hands busy between her thighs. This was as she’d expected, she thought with relief, and when he was done and they were both sated, he’d be ready for her to whisper into his ear how much better off he would be if he was Matilda’s man.
    His fingers drove deep inside her core, stroking the hot, tight flesh, circling as if he were seeking something . . .
    Annalise cried out as pleasure shot through her, white hot pleasure, making her arch her back.
    When she was able to see again he was watching her with a smug masculine smile. “What did you do?” she whispered.
    “There is a place inside you, lady, that gives much pleasure.”
    Annalise shook her head. “I have never heard of it.”
    His smile grew even more smug and she wished the words unsaid.
    He began to kiss her once more, hot heavy kisses that seemed to drain her of the power to think. And then he stroked inside her again, and she felt like a puppet with no will of her own. This time her cry was more of a scream and her body arched and her muscles tightened, before she went limp.
    “I have never known one so responsive,” he said. “You are truly a passionate woman, my lady.”
    She felt the nudge of his hard cock against her thigh, and then he was sliding deep inside her, filling her with his heat. Annalise tried to clear her mind, to think about what she was doing here, what her instructions were, but he was moving inside her, and every brush of his cock against that secret spot made her push back, eager for more of the bliss he’d shown her.
    She dug her fingernails into his taut buttocks, and he grunted, moving harder and faster. A great whooshing wave of pleasure caught her, carrying her along with it, and Annalise gave herself up to it, everything forgotten in the pursuit of ecstasy.
    When she could breathe again, when she could think again, she turned to stroke his chest, running her tongue over the firm skin. He had a tattoo on his bicep and she traced it with her fingertip, feeling him relax. Soon she was ready to begin.
    “ I had heard that Lord Fitzallen was wealthy beyond dreams, but I am a little disappointed by your lack of prominence at the court. You could be so much more.”
    His eyes were half closed and he grunted a reply.
    She went on, praising him, suggesting he could be treated better, that he should aim higher. She was subtle, clever, and he listened. Finally, when she thought she had wound her spell about him tight enough, she spoke plainly.
    “There are those who would pay you well, if you were to take their part. You could hold high office when the king is dead. Everyone knows how ill he is. It won’t be long now until his cousin returns at last to take her proper place. Will you not stand at her side?”
    He said nothing to that.
    Annalise looked up and realised he was watching her with wide awake eyes, and there was a coldness in them she hadn’t seen before.
    “You are Matilda’s spy,” he said with certainty. “There were rumours. I wondered. Now I know it for a fact.”
    “I have given my allegiance to Matilda; that is no secret, my lord.”
    He sat up, looming over her, and suddenly she remembered how big he was. He could pick her up and fling her against the wall, or put his hands about her neck and squeeze. Annalise had to work hard not to show her panic when he leaned down even closer, his breath warm on her skin.
    “ You are wasting your time with me, my lady,” he whispered. “I am no traitor.”
    “And yet you came to my bed,” she said before she could stop herself.
    He smiled his half smile at her. “I did come to your bed, but that was because I heard that you’d turned several of the king’s supporters, and I wanted to see for myself what tricks you used. But there are no tricks, are there? Just a beautiful and passionate woman satisfying her own desires, and when he is replete, working on that man’s greed for money and power. You spy for Matilda, and pretend your work is

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