Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (51 page)

Thunderous applause. Lord Verdigris pulls off his
helmet and uses it to salute the crowd. Then he rides his huge
black stallion around the arena, blowing kisses to his adoring
fans, even picking up a bouquet of flowers here and there.
Obviously, he jousts here a lot. But I guess that’s easy for
somebody who’s not only immortal, but also has complete control
over the entire space-time continuum.

Trenton and his white stallion trot into the arena a
moment later to thunderous boos. Lord Verdigris is the hometown
favorite here at
Medieval Worlds
, that’s obvious. But it
doesn’t seem to faze Trenton in the least. He tips his helmet to
the crowd and smiles, then blows a kiss to Jaclyn. An armored
referee appears in the middle of the arena, carrying a polished
sword in one hand and a microphone in the other. “Ladies and
gentlemen,” he announces in flat East Coast accent, “the highlight
of the evening is about to begin! The Rose Knight shall challenge
the undefeated Green Knight for the title of
Medieval
Worlds’
Tournament Champion! The rules are as follows. Each
jouster and his mount will stand at the starting gates on opposite
sides of the arena. On my signal, they will charge one another,
lances drawn, until one or both of them are knocked from their
mounts. The first jouster to fall shall be the loser, with the
winner taking the title of Tournament Champion, along with a $500
gift certificate to JCPenney and unlimited free pitchers of Miller
Lite at the
Medieval Worlds’
Bar! Gentlemen, you may
approach your starting gates and prepare your mounts. And may the
best jouster win!”

More thunderous applause. The two men ride their
horses to opposite ends of the arena and take their places at the
starting gates. The referee goes to stand on his platform, and
gives the signal.

The two stallions begin to charge. Jaclyn, Pembroke
and I all hold our breath. The horses’ legs gallop in seeming slow
motion. Every detail of their flexing muscles burns into my retinas
as I watch the few fleeting seconds of the jousting match that will
literally determine my fate in the universe.

The two horses get closer and closer to one another,
the two lances are yards apart, then feet, then mere inches.

Pembroke pulls me even closer, threatens to crush me
in his powerful embrace. I close my eyes—can’t bear to watch
another second.

There is a resounding
crunch.
Followed by a
very loud collective gasp from the crowd. Then silence.

I open my eyes and see Lord Verdigris crumpled on
the ground, his green lance shattered into a million wood
splinters. And Trenton still mounted safely on his steed above him,
triumphant.

The Rose Knight has won!

How the hell did he do it?

Who cares? He won!

Pembroke, Jaclyn and I all rush out onto the arena
floor, cheering. Trenton dismounts from his stallion and goes to
embrace Jaclyn. They kiss passionately.

Looks like The Rose Knight just might have found
himself a new Beloved.

We all gather around Lord Verdigris’ pathetic
crumpled body on the manure-covered ground. There are no signs of
life for several minutes. Just when we’re about to give up and call
the coroner, though, he stirs.

Lord Verdigris summons all his strength to lift the
visor of his helmet. His eyes are weak, shattered, defeated.
“Verily, Sir Rose Knight, ye knew the secret of bringing this
immortal life to an end,” he croaks.

Trenton, ever a respectful and chivalrous knight,
even as he exacts revenge on his oldest enemy, bows. “Aye, my lord.
For just before my original Beloved met her own fate, she
transferred that knowledge—and her immortality—to me. I learned
from my Beloved that
pride
is the surest path to an
immortal’s destruction. And very proud ye were, my lord. So ‘twas a
simple task to do away with ye.”

“Ye are the better man, Rose Knight,” Lord Verdigris
sighs, the life swiftly leaving his body. “And so I will keep my
end of the bargain. Ye and your comrades are free of my capture.
With my death, the master time portal shall be unlocked and free to
anyone with the knowledge to open it. And Lady Louisa, I grant the
bondservant Bridget her freedom from the Hall of Harlots and
release her to your care.”

There is an audible
pop
, and Bridget appears
out of nowhere, looking bewildered. A curious murmur erupts from
the crowd.

“Wh-where am I? Oh, ‘tis my lady! And good Master
Pembroke! Ye are safe! Oh, lass, when ye all disappeared from the
Harlot’s Ball I feared the worst!” Bridget looks around her,
awestruck. “Tell me, lass, is this America?”

“It sure is,” I say. “Welcome to New Jersey.”

Bridget looks around some more, then frowns. “Well,
this ain’t how Mr. Dickens described America ‘tall.”

“Welcome to freedom, good maidservant Bridget,”
Trenton says to her with a bow. Bridget blushes. “I intend to make
it my business to free all the Harlots from servitude just as soon
as Madam Jasphet and I have a chance to travel back to Bellweather
Castle.”

Bridget giggles with glee and claps her hands. “Oh,
yer a good lad, ye are, Sir Rose Knight! Ye ‘ave granted me
greatest wish!” She shoots me a wink. “Other than a-seein’ America
o’course.”

Lord Verdigris draws his last breath. As he does,
his body evaporates and vanishes, just like Obi-Wan Kenobi’s and
Yoda’s in
Star Wars.
But unlike them, I don’t think he’s
becoming one with the Force. More like becoming one with the
serpents and lava pits down in Hades.

More curious murmurs from the crowd. But we two
happy couples could care less. Pembroke and me, Trenton and
Jaclyn—we all hug each other like there’s no tomorrow.

And in a way, there isn’t. Because thanks to the
Rose Knight, Jaclyn and I are immortal now, too.

I lead Pembroke and Bridget to the sidelines, where
a very shocked and also very suddenly sober Nancy is staring at me,
her mouth hanging open. A morsel of Salisbury steak falls out and
lands in her lap; she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Hi Nancy,” I say. “Sorry I was in the bathroom for
so long. You wouldn’t
believe
how long the line was.”

She looks from Trenton, to Jaclyn, to Bridget, then
Pembroke, then to me, then to my cheesy polyester waitress’ outfit,
then back to me. “Uhhhh—“ she stammers, pointing a finger at me.
“Whhhaaa?”

I laugh. “Kind of a long story. I’ll explain
later.”

Nancy and her gaping mouth can wait. So can
everybody else, for that matter. Because right now, I have other
priorities.

I drag Pembroke and Bridget along behind me through
Medieval World’s crowded dining room and lobby. We end up out in
the parking lot. A line of taxis stands waiting at the curb. I
reach into the front pocket of my waitress’ apron and find it’s
full of cash. I take the wad of cash, hand it to Bridget, and flag
one of the cabs. “Take this lady to Eleven Royal Terrace, Building
A, second floor,” I tell the cabbie. “And be nice to her. She’s new
around here.” I turn to Bridget who’s staring gape-mouthed at the
car—I realize that’s she’s never seen or heard of an automobile
before, let alone all the other stuff she’s getting exposed to.
“This thing here is called a car. Sort of like a horse-and-buggy,
except without horses. And it goes a lot faster, too. Don’t worry,
it’s perfectly safe. The driver will take you to my apartment
building. When you get there, ring the bell for the super, Vinnie.
Tell him you’re my aunt visiting from Scotland. He’ll let you
inside. I’ll be home in an hour or two.”

I shuttle Bridget into the cab and watch it drive
off. Then I turn to Pembroke, who strangely seems right at home in
his new surroundings. “I think I’ve been here before, madam,” he
explains. “Lord Verdigris was very fond of this era and traveled
here with me often. And I’m starting to understand why.”

“Follow me,” I instruct him as I lead him up and
down the narrow rows of cars. I find my battered Geo Metro on the
far end of the lot, and manage to jiggle the dented passenger door
open even though I left it locked. Luckily, I always keep a spare
set of keys in the glove compartment, so I’ll be able to drive us
home.

But there are other matters to attend to first.

Namely, Pembroke’s bulging crotch.

“Well, we’re finally alone together again,” I say as
we both tumble into the cramped backseat. “Did you miss me?”

“Indeed I did, madam,” he replies. “More than you
know.”

I point at the bulge in his pants. “Looks to me like
you missed me an awful lot. But I can take care of that for you in
a jiffy.”

I yank down the cheesy polyester
Medieval
Worlds’
waiter uniform pants and bask in the glory that is
Pembroke’s beautiful cock. He might be stuffed inside a crappy Geo
Metro in the middle of working-class New Jersey, but with his pants
off, Pembroke is well-bred English gentleman all the way.

There really is something to all that aristocratic
breeding stuff.

I lift up the polyester skirt of my cheesy
Medieval Worlds’
waitress outfit and discover with joy that
I’m not wearing panties. I have to chuckle at this—even when he was
recostuming his Harlots in the middle of swirling time portals,
Lord Verdigris always made sure to omit underwear—may he rest in
peace.

No biggie. Just makes things a hell of a lot easier
where fucking is concerned.

Foreplay be damned—the only thing I want to do right
now is get that beautiful English gentleman’s cock inside me,
pronto. I climb on top of Pembroke and lower myself down onto his
joystick so fast that I think the walls of my sheath just might
tear themselves asunder—in a good way, of course. I begin to grind
slowly at first, then gradually pick up speed until I’m bouncing
like a teenager on an out-of-control pony trot. Every ride up and
down that glorious aristocrat’s cock is a joyride into the next
solar system.

Pembroke keeps up his end of the bargain, too,
meeting every one of my pleasure-bounces with a hard-and-fast
pelvic thrust of his own. He gets busy on my clit, too, working all
ten of his long, elegant fingers into my hot little sex nub, which
is quickly filling up with my boiling, red-hot blood. My orgasm
arrives so quickly it might as well be riding on a high-speed
bullet train—and in a way, it is. Because right now, there’s a
bullet train riding at top speed up and into my cunt, making my
G-spot the final spot on the express route to ecstasy.

I come once, twice, three times, banging my head
against the low-hanging ceiling of my Geo Metro each time—but I’m
so full of incredible, earth-shattering pleasure sensations, I
don’t care one iota about the bumps I’m getting on my noggin. As I
feel my fourth orgasm start to take hold, I can tell that Pembroke
is about to explode, too—his whole body shakes, vibrates underneath
me, he groans, grunts, then cries out in English-accented joy as
his seed spills forth into my cunt. We ride the final eruption
together, then collapse into one another, exhausted and spent, the
rhythm of our breathing in perfect sync as we bask in the afterglow
together.

Pembroke strokes my hair softly as we slowly come
back down to earth from our perch somewhere in the stratosphere.
“And now, madam, you must show me each and every detail of your
beloved New Jersey. It truly is a wondrous place. Lord Verdigris
never ventured past the threshold of the
Medieval Worlds
arena on his past trips here with me as his bondservant, and I long
to see what lies past this place’s exotic borders.”

“Exotic borders?” I chuckle. “You mean what’s out
past the parking lot?”

“Precisely, madam. Though I must say based on my
experiences so far, the parking lot is itself a wondrous
place.”

I sit up, slowly disengage myself from his
equipment. “Actually, I was thinking we should go back in time to
Regency England first. Maybe go back to your fancy-schmantzy Elysia
place for a while, see if we can’t arrange things so that it ends
up going to you instead of your brother somehow. I’d love to spend
some time as your Countess of Pembroke. Maybe an entire
lifetime.”

Pembroke frowned. “But that’s impossible! You might
be immortal now thanks to Sir Rose Knight, but I’m not. I would
grow old and die while you stayed young forever—“

I place a finger over his lips to shush him. “Not
true.
You’re
immortal now, too. I just shared my magic with
you while we were in connubial bliss. In fact, it wasn’t even the
first time. Remember our little bit of fun back on Bellweather
Castle’s roof? Because if
that
wasn’t enough to make you
immortal, than what just happened here in the Metro sure was.”

Pembroke grins sheepishly. “Well, madam, I must say,
for the first time in my life, I am utterly speechless.”

“Good. Because we have a lot more fucking to do if
I’m ever going to get that master time portal opened up wide enough
for us to head back to Regency England.”

I make another move for Pembroke’s cock, but he
reaches out a hand to stop me. “What about Bridget? We can’t just
abandon her here in the twenty-first century!”

I laugh. “Sure we can. We’ve got all the time in the
world, Pembroke. We’re immortal, after all. And as long as you and
I keep making that crazy sexy magic together, there’s not a moment
in all of human history that we just can’t hold in the palm of our
hands.”

Mercenary Bride

Chapter
1

English West Country on the high road to
Glastonbury, April 1101

Sabina rode Arthur, her huge dappled-roan stallion,
hard. He cantered at lightning speed, the moss-covered hills and
heaths of England’s west country a blur underneath his well-shod
hooves. She was making good time. At this rate, Sabina would make
it to Glastonbury in a little less than three days. She’d made sure
to take Arthur—the strongest, fastest horse from her father’s
stables—for this journey. Lucky for her, Sabina’s mother had taught
her to ride a horse astride like a man before she died. This was no
time to ride sidesaddle. She needed Arthur’s speed, his strength,
his stallion’s fury to take her far, far away from her girlhood
home, a home that she loved—forever.