Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (37 page)

Lord Verdigris might be a heartless, time-traveling,
kidnapping bastard. But he knows how to eat pussy.

Sometimes you just have to learn to take the good
with the bad.

I throw my head back and buck some more as Lord
Verdigris’ tongue sends my whole body into another incredible
spasm. I feel the walls of my sheath pulsing and clenching,
clenching and releasing, sending an undulating vibration up and out
from the deepest recesses of my body through every pore of my skin,
saturating all my senses. I can smell the sweet scent of my pussy,
taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth as I bite down on my
tongue in ecstasy.

This is an orgasm that literally spans
centuries.

And we haven’t even gotten started on the actual
fucking yet.

But I can do something about that in a hurry. I’m in
total control, while Lord Verdigris is in total submission to my
will. And his cock is as big as a castle turret.

I lift myself up off his face, leaving my pussy
juice decorating the sandy blonde stubble of his beard like a thin
gossamer curtain. I slide down his chest, leaving a trail of my
nectar on his skin, until my cunt runs into the base of his cock. I
lift my hips, take a deep breath, and lower my sheath down over it,
letting his huge member ease into me a little at a time. The walls
of my vag stretch to their breaking point to accommodate his long,
thick, throbbing mass, and when the tip of his cock finally hits my
cervix, I instantly have a deep, hard, rollicking vaginal orgasm
that rocks me from the top of my head all the way down to my pinky
toes.

Once the spasms from that orgasm begin to ease, I
settle into a slow, easy rhythm to start out what I hope will be a
long, hard, earth-shattering fuck for the ages. Since Lord
Verdigris is tied down and prostate against the cross, it’s hard
for him to buck or thrust into me—giving me total and complete
control over his pleasure and mine. I keep the fuck slow and soft
for a long time, building up another fantastic slow burn in my clit
and vag, but nearly driving Lord Verdigris crazy. His whole body is
a tightly wound spring waiting to explode, but I won’t let him. Not
yet. My satisfaction must come first.

I ride him slow and steady for almost half an hour,
until my entire lower half has turned to jelly from a countless
string of nonstop orgasms. My head is spinning and every pore of my
sweat-soaked skin feels electrified, burning, awash in interstellar
explosive pleasure. The walls of my vag vibrate and pulse at warp
speed, and my labia are so swollen that they make a drumlike sound
as they slap up and down against the length of Lord Verdigris’
cock. He’s begging me for release now, crying and sniveling like a
child who’s been sent to bed without any dessert.

“Oh, dear Lord Jesus Christ in Heaven, milady,
please, give me release!” he cries. “Please! I shall die! I shall
die!”

Finally, I take pity on him. After all, I’ve just
had the most incredible fuck of my life—and I’ve done it as a
captured, imprisoned sex slave.

I am one badass bitch.

I suppose that means Lord Verdigris can finally have
some fun now, too.

I spin myself around on his cock until I’m in a
perfect reverse-cowgirl position. Once there, I pick up the pace,
feeling the sensations multiplied tenfold since I’m now taking it
from behind and ramming him into my G-spot at maximum velocity.
Lord Verdigris starts to moan and grunt as his long-awaited orgasm
approaches, while I explode into my umpteenth orgasm of the
evening. Just as I finish coming one last, wild, teeth-clattering
time, Lord Verdigris explodes into me with the force of a rocket
leaving the launchpad. I can almost taste his come in my mouth, it
spurts into me with such force. His seed spills out of me and onto
his groin. It slips off his skin and down onto the rough-hewn wood
of the Cross of the Crossroads, where it is absorbed.

The Cross has now been christened.

Lord Verdigris lets out a long, low sigh, then
collapses into unconsciousness. I have rendered him helpless, a
slave to my incredible, sensual mixture of pleasure and pain. He is
now mine, all mine.

I pull myself off of him and go to relax in the
afterglow among my satin sheets and cushions in my four-poster bed.
I watch Lord Verdigris sleep for awhile, surprised that I feel
something like tenderness towards him as his sweaty and sated body
snores, still tied down with leather straps upon my newly built
instrument of sexual power and control. Lord Verdigris got more
than he bargained for tonight, that’s for damn sure.

Hell, so did I.

And if the dopey, smug expression on Lord Verdigris’
sleeping face is any indication, tonight is the happiest night of
his long, immortal life.

In a way, it’s the happiest night of my own life,
too. Because even though I’m trapped in an unthinkable situation
hundreds of years from my own time, I’ve discovered something new
about myself this evening. Something powerful, something wonderful.
Something that will sustain me throughout my sure-to-be very long
imprisonment here in this strange time and place.

I, Louise Jackson, overeducated, underemployed
history major from New Jersey with no sex life to speak of
whatsoever until just a couple days ago, am apparently a dominatrix
of considerable talent. Who knew? Certainly not me. Who could have
predicted that this very unique set of circumstances could have
awakened a sensual side of myself I never could have possibly known
to exist before now? It’s as if everything I’ve done in my life up
to now—reading all those dull history texts in college, my passing
interest in medieval torture, my love for knight-in-shining-armor
romances, my shelf of erotic books and
Sex and the City
DVDs—have all been leading up to, preparing me for this exact
moment in time. The time when I would cease to be mousy,
undersexed, overlooked Louise Jackson from Trenton, New Jersey and
become Lady Louisa of the Crossroads, the hottest whip-toting
dominatrix in a thousand years.

As I settle back into sleep myself, I wonder what
adventures await me, Lady Louisa of the Crossroads, next in the
Hall of Harlots.

What a difference a few centuries makes.

Chapter
7

Lord Verdigris sleeps in my chambers all night and
late into the morning, still strapped to the Cross of the
Crossroads. When he finally awakens around noon, I untie him and
send him on his way. His demeanor around me has changed greatly;
where he was formerly confident, powerful, and arresting, he is now
demure, deferring, and gentle. His eyes wear a veil of sheer awe in
my presence. It seems I’ve managed to put him permanently under my
spell.

He finishes getting dressed and gives me a soft bow
as I sit at my dressing table, sipping a cup of chamomile tea that
Bridget has prepared. “Ye are truly a wonder to behold, milady
Louisa,” he says, his voice soft, husky and hoarse following our
wild night. “Ne’er have I encountered a woman of your considerable
lust and glorious passion. Methinks I shall be a visitor to your
chambers quite often. And so shall all my most trusted vassals, who
do me honor by sharing the bed of the fairest members of my Hall of
Harlots.Prepare yourself, milady Louisa, for soon ye shall be the
greatest Harlot in all of Bellweather Castle. Methinks I shall have
to have you zealously guarded, for I know that once word of your
charms lets loose upon the countryside, many lustful men in the
shire will try to come and take your favors for free, without
paying me my rightful homage first. Until we meet again this night,
Lady Louisa, I shall remain your most faithful admirer and defender
of your charms.”

With another bow and flourish, Lord Verdigris
disappears.

A split second later, Bridget bursts into the room,
jumping up and down and clapping her hands. “Oh, milady, milady! Ye
have done it! Ye have done it!”

I smirk. “And what, pray tell, have I done?”
Although I can well imagine.

“Ye have become Lord Verdigris’ permanent favorite!”
Bridget cries, so full of excitement she can scarcely stand still.
“And in only one night! He stayed wi’ thee ‘til after
noon
,
milady! ‘Tis nivver happened before, not in all me years here in
the Hall!”

I smirk even wider. “Is that so?”

Bridget giggles and nods. “Oh yes, milady. Usually
His Lordship visits
six
or
seven
of his Harlots in a
single night! An’ ‘e never stays past sunrise!An’ yet ‘e bedded
with ye the whole night, and half the day besides—and on ‘is
first turn
with ye! ‘Tis a bloody miracle, ‘tis! How did’ye
do it, pray?”

I take another sip of tea, and say nothing. Because
I’m not entirely sure how I managed to do it myself. It all seems
to have happened in a dream somehow.

Bridget’s eyebrows raise expectantly. “Well, milady?
I’m all ears.”

I sigh, lean back in my velvet-cushioned chair, and
stretch my aching neck and shoulder muscles, which have become
stiff and heavy from all the wild sex positions I put myself into
last evening. “Let’s just say they do things differently in the
bedroom back where I’m from, and leave it at that.” Which is sort
of true, actually. After all, most 21
^st
-century single
women my age have sex with vibrators while watching reruns of
Sex and the City
and
Californication
a lot more often
than they have sex with actual living, breathing men. Which also
gives us plenty of time to think up all kinds of new and
interesting ways to fuck actual living, breathing men. How else
could I have come up with the idea of fucking a man while he’s tied
down to a crucifix of my own construction?

Necessity (and boredom) are sometimes the mother of
invention.

That, and the fact I’m a history buff and a former
CampFire nerd with a shelf full of books on medieval torture
implements probably helps.

Who’d have ever thought my geeky, wallflower New
Jersey upbringing would come in so handy?

Bridget sinks back onto a wooden stool and shakes
her head. “Well, ye sure are a mysterious one, milady Louisa. Which
reminds me. A certain mysterious gentleman that ye fancy ‘as just
been assigned to guard ye round the clock, in-between ye seein’ yer
customers, o’course. His Lordship himself’s own orders. His
Lordship seems afeared that yer new reputation as his favorite will
have many o’ rough country lad crawlin’ up the castle walls fer a
chance to see ye naked.”

I perk right up. “So Pembroke will be guarding me
from now on?
All
the time?”

Bridget nods. “Indeed, milady. An’ he shall be here
inside of a moment.”

As if on cue, Pembroke appears in my doorway. “I beg
your pardon, madams, for appearing unannounced,” he says, giving us
both his trademark deep bow. He’s changed his outfit from
yesterday, and is wearing a tight soldier’s blue frock coat trimmed
with gold braid, matching goldish-tan breeches, and a ruffled
cravat that could have walked right off a Napoleonic
battlefield.

Bridget gets up to greet him. “Ye
weren’t
unannounced, milord,” she clucks. “I make it me business to know
everything that happens ‘round me harlots well afore it does.”

He gives Bridget a subtle nod, all haughty English
gentleman.

Every move the man makes—big or small—gets me
hot.

Bridget takes it as her cue to leave the two of us
alone. “I’ll leave ye with yer charge then, milord. I’ll just be
done the hall if ye need me.” She scuttles off, clucking like a hen
and giggling.

Pembroke lowers himself gracefully onto the empty
stool, takes my hand between his long, elegant fingers, and kisses
it. “Word about your considerable and exotic charms has certainly
spread far and wide, madam. And ever so quickly. I daresay I am not
at all surprised.”

I giggle and blush. Suddenly all my newfound
confidence melts away. In Pembroke’s presence, I’m a timid, naïve
schoolgirl all over again.

A timid, naïve schoolgirl with a red-hot, burning
cunt.

“I have been assigned by His Lordship to protect you
from the rough-and-common masses,” Pembroke goes on. “Tho’ I’m
afraid I cannot protect you from Lord Verdigris himself, nor from
his many vassals who are all vying for a chance to spend an evening
under your spell. Lord Verdigris is willing to pawn off even his
most favorite—ahem—
servants
upon anyone who bribes him
sufficiently. A most ungentlemanly activity, I must say. But I
assure you, madam, that
I
am a gentleman, and as such, I
treat all ladies with the appropriate respect. It shall be my
surpreme pleasure to guard you during this assignment to the
fullest extent of my abilities.”

“I greatly appreciate your kindness, Pembroke,” I
say. “But somehow I think you took this assignment with an ulterior
motive in mind.”

Pembroke smiles. “You surmise correctly, madam. I
must admit, I am quite smitten with you. Quite smitten, indeed. You
have a powerful effect upon the male animal. Though I’m sure you
know that already.”

I chuckle. “Frankly, I’m still a little surprised at
how all of this has turned out.”

Pembroke’s hard, haughty expression softens a bit.
“An all too common occurrence here in the Hall of Harlots, madam.
Nothing is ever as it seems here. And all of us imprisoned
hereabouts are destined to make some new discoveries about
ourselves. Out of necessity. Our very survival here depends on it.”
He leans forward, takes my hand again and clasps both of his firm,
warm ones around it. “Milady Louisa, somehow I have guessed that
you are not at all like the noble persona Lord Verdigris has
created here for you.”

I smile and blush. “You guess correctly. I’m
actually the farthest thing from a noblewoman you can possibly
imagine.”