the next thing I know, he’s lifting me up against the tree, spreading my legs so they wrap around his waist, under his cloak. Now my dress is hitched all the way up to the top of my thighs. His hands are firm beneath my ass, and my thighs cling tightly around his waist. As his intoxicating scent wraps about me, his mouth hovers over mine. I grip him over his enormous shoulders, holding on. “Is this really necessary?” I hiss. “If I’m not mistaken, you could use actual, genuine pleasure in your life, but for now, faking it will have to do,” he whispers.
