Page 57 of Falling for the Knight

He slipped his hand underneath her chemise again, and this time it did not stop. It trailed over her hips and toward her breast, where it finally paused.

Tristan’s groan emboldened her. She moved her hand toward the evidence of his need.

“Let me pleasure you, Tristan.”

He’d given without taking, but now it was his turn.

His hand stilled on her breast.

The need to pleasure him roared through her body. “What is it?”

Her words had affected him in some way—on some level beyond mere pleasure. Maybe he would explain it to her, maybe not. But she intended to show him how he affected her.

Hannah pulled his hand down so it rested at his side. Then, taking him by surprise, which was the only way she’d be able to overpower him, Hannah pushed him flat on the bed and straddled him.

“I’d like nothing more than to feel you inside me, Tristan.”

How was that for honesty?

“But we both know that can’t happen,” she added.

She began to move against him, the hardness she felt even more pronounced against the sensitive spot that he had just brought to an exquisite climax.

“I’d have nabbed a condom had I known . . .” She shook her head at his confusion. “Never mind.”

Hannah reached down and untied the laces that would free him from confinement. These were nothing like the skintight pantyhose women wore in the twenty-first. Much looser, though still tight enough to accentuate every muscle, they were also tied at the top. Elastic was apparently still a thing of the future.

He watched her the entire time, and Hannah wished she could take back her words. She’d never been this turned on in her life. Even lying prone on the bed, in arguably the most compromising position there was, Tristan exuded strength and confidence.

But at this moment, he was at her mercy.

She stopped just before her hand slipped inside his hose. Jumping up, she ran to the washstand and brought back a cloth and laid it strategically on top of him.

“Hannah Sutton . . . where did you come from?”

She smiled, a wicked side she didn’t know she possessed suddenly wanting to tease him a bit. “You know the answer to that.”

Even so, he looked at her as if this was the first time a woman had done this to him. Which, of course, could not be true given where he’d been raised and how he’d acquired his considerable skills.

She allowed only the tips of her fingers to slip inside, barely touching the flesh beneath. He knew what she was about, but he didn’t move. He didn’t attempt to guide her hand as most men would have done by now. His restrained response sent a jolt of desire down to her very core.

“Are women not so . . . forward . . . in your time?”

His eyes narrowed. “No. Most are not.”

She inched her fingertips just a bit lower. This time, she reached inside and pulled down the cloth that separated them. Hannah couldn’t help but look down. And while there was only a dim flicker of light in the darkened room, it was enough.

She swallowed and met his eyes once again. Hannah had thought she was the one in control, but she wasn’t so sure anymore. Right now, if he asked her again to stay, she might be tempted to say yes. There was more than lust in his eyes as he calmly waited for her to continue.

She knew that look. In the past, it had always scared her, but now . . .

Wrapping her hand around him, she was finally rewarded with the slightest crack in his armor. When she began to move her hand, Tristan lifted his chin just slightly. She took her cues from his expression, watching as carefully as possible for the slightest changes so she could do more of what he seemed to like. When he finally closed his eyes, his hips moving into her, Hannah dealt him the ultimate blow.

“Tristan?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

She didn’t stop.