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Authors: Scottie Barrett

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Historical, #General, #Romance/Historical

The Heat of the Knight (13 page)

BOOK: The Heat of the Knight
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As her bottom rose high into the air, Beckett's hand trailed up the back of her leg to the heat between her thighs. His big fingers stroked her pussy until she was damp.

Shocked, she stopped kissing him as his hand moved to her tight bud. She attempted to brush his fingers away from her bottom.

He gave her buttock cheek a sharp smack. “I'll have all of you tonight. Every beautiful inch of you is mine to enjoy.” His fingers dug into her hair, and he forced her head back down. “If you need to keep your hands busy, wrap them around my cock.”

She complied by curling one hand around the base of his shaft while bracing herself on his thigh with the other. Opening her mouth wide, as though she wished to swallow the full-length of him, she proceeded to suck him.

His finger resumed its invasion. He rubbed insistently over the puckered hole, and after moistening his finger in the cream of her pussy, he placed it at the tight bud and then pressed inside. She shut her eyes against the pain and the pleasure as her bottom was impaled. Her mouth slid downward urged on by the movement of his finger, which lifted her bottom and forced her mouth to the base of his shaft.

Once he was slick with her kisses, she straddled him, facing his feet. It gave her complete control. Placing her hands between his parted calves and her knees on either side of his thighs, she lifted her bottom high and then plunged down. It was so deep an entry, her pussy instantly clenched. It took her breath away. His hands stroked the length of her back.

“Tiana, you have learned new tricks,” he said, his voice raw.

“Tricks I've invented in my mind. Do they please you?” Putting her weight on her hands, she rode him hard and was rewarded with groans of pleasure. His stiff cock felt enormous. Overwhelmed by the sensation, she began to lose her rhythm, and his hands gripped her hips and pumped, keeping up the pounding pace.

* * * *

A light as bright as the noon sun penetrated Christiana's lids as Beckett roused her from a luxuriant sleep. Her body was pressed into service again to meet his unquenchable needs. The room was astonishingly bright, as if he'd used every candle in the castle. The bed curtains had been drawn wide so that the bed swam in a pool of light. She soon found herself on all fours, her legs spread wide.

She jolted as he blew gently on her sensitive pink folds and then his tongue teased them. His satiny hair tickled the inside of her thighs. He parted her nether lips wide, then plunged his rigid tongue into her pussy. He kissed her there as he did her mouth, with deftly bold strokes that made her whole body shiver with delight. A cry of surprise escaped her as his tongue trailed higher until it found her tight puckered bud. The rough stubble of his jaw contrasted with the moist insistence of his mouth plundering her. His tongue swirled roughly over the rim of her anus and then wickedly dipped inside her.

“Stay as you are,” he ordered.

From the floor he retrieved a bowl he'd obviously placed there while she'd been dozing.

She watched with trepidation as he dunked his entire hand into the almond oil he used to rub away the tension from his overworked firing arm. He rubbed the oil over her puckered bud.

One finger and then another breached her anus, penetrating deeply. Her entire body tingled from the sensation. She became more eager, lifting her bottom up proudly to take the invasion. At times the pain outweighed the pleasure, but the sensations were so tangled together as to be inseparable. And then she felt the unthinkable happen. He was shifting his big body, settling himself between her legs and the tip of his cock was now pressing at the opening where his fingers had been.

Instinctively her hand moved to protect herself. He pushed her hand away and smacked her buttocks with more emphasis than a mere teasing slap. “Will you deny me?”

“And if I do?”

“Then I shall stop.”

Of course, he would insist on claiming the right she'd denied the Blacksmith. “I wish to please you.” She bit her lip anticipating the coming pain, but she lowered her upper body so that her buttocks tilted higher in invitation. He leaned over her, his heated body coming in contact with her back, and took hold of her hand. She lowered her head into the pillows and balanced herself on one forearm. She gasped as he placed her hand under her, directly on her pussy. He worked her fingers so that she stroked the pink moist folds.

Then he straightened, and taking her hips in his hands, he entered her. Her cries were absorbed by the pillow.

“Breathe, sweeting,” he commanded. And when she relaxed some, he pushed in deeper. Just when she thought that she could not take any more of him, she found, of course, that she could. Her hand had stilled. She waited, instead, until her shocked body adjusted to the size of him. His hand reached under and manipulated her fingers so she was petting herself again. And then he began thrusting. Slow delicious movements that threatened to overwhelm her senses. Soon climaxes cascaded through her, one after another, as her now willing bottom met his forceful strokes.

Beckett watched her delectable ass eagerly taking all of him and thought he'd die of pleasure. The candlelight allowed him to relish the sight of her submission: her fingers stroking her pussy on his insistence, the smooth skin of her buttocks pinkened by spanking. Her dove-gray eyes were heavy lidded and glazed with passion. With the shock of his initial entry, she'd bitten her bottom lip. A tiny bead of blood had formed on her lush mouth, already swollen from his kisses.

With his cock still thrust deep inside her, he leaned over her back, her soft skin coming in contact with his chest. He filled his hand with one of her breasts. Insatiable, he fondled her sensitive, erect nipple until she shivered to another climax.

He straightened, gripping her hips again, taking full command of her body with his own. “Higher, Tiana,” he demanded, and she immediately obeyed, pressing her face into the pillow and tilting her buttocks up. She was as greedy for him as he was for her. A whimper of pleasure escaped her as he dragged his shaft out, and then a cry of ecstasy, her fingers clutching the bedding, as he plunged into her tight hole again, driving so deep his balls slapped her pussy. Her entire body trembled under his mastery.

“Say something. My name…anything,” he demanded.

“Yes, my Lord Blacksmith.”

Within moments he collapsed, shuddering atop her back, for once spending his seed inside of her. Had she, in her delirium, actually addressed him as the Blacksmith?

Beckett sprawled beside her, his hand resting atop his heaving chest. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. Tiana curled up beside him, her head atop his shoulder, her silver-white hair startling against his dark skin. She was tracing the crusader's mark on his neck. He took her hand and trapped it beneath his own, above his heart. It was crucial that she felt how it thundered.

“God, please tell me you knew what you were saying.”

“I've known your secret for awhile.” She lifted his arm and traced the birthmark on his inner wrist before pressing a kiss to it. “I'd been suspicious when you'd return looking battle bruised. In the forest, when the Blacksmith stroked my hair, my body reacted. No touch but yours excites me. Spying your birthmark only confirmed what I already knew.”

It was laughable, if not completely pitiable. “I've been insanely jealous of myself. Could you not have said something sooner?”

She fiddled with his family ring, an attempt, he was sure, to distract him. “Do you realize you've saved me from two boars?”

“Now you will remind me of my cowardice to make certain I do not gloat overlong on your enjoying my touch alone. I've heard the story enough. It gives Colin great pleasure to describe how I'd fainted from the saddle while you were in danger.”

She laughed, her breath warm against his chest. “'Twas Colin who swooned while you threw yourself in front of the boar. You pierced the beast with your spear right through the eye. You did faint soon after though, from the broken leg. I had to contend with two unconscious de Saxbys.”

Her eyes drifted shut.

He pinched her bottom to rouse her. “You mentioned two boars?”

“The fox,” she slurred the words. “That awful Pikhorn. I recognized the signet ring. He was the one who kidnapped me. Wanted to deliver me to a nunnery.”

Had the Pikhorns conspired to remove the one temptation that prevented him from pledging his troth to Blanche?

Chapter Eleven

Christiana woke to Colin and Beckett arguing. She opened the bed curtains just enough to pop her head through.

“Colin, have you come for me?” she asked. The thought chilled her. She'd roused a few times during the day. She knew that the sun had been up for a very long time.

Somehow she was hoping for magic. Thinking that if she slept the day away, she would never have to leave him.

Beckett's black brows furrowed threateningly, and Colin appeared surprised to see her.

“Have you a notion what trouble this reckless bastard has gotten himself in? The king's man has just entered the gates. He's got the goddamned helmet with him.”

“This is about Lord Revynwyll's slaying, isn't it?” she asked.

Beckett turned on her with a sneer. “What matter is it to you? If I hadn't detained you in bed, you'd have been gone at daybreak and none the wiser.”

He directed his fury on Colin now. “How do I know you aren't the one who betrayed me? After all, you betrayed me once.”

“You can't let that rest.” He thrust his chin out and tapped it, and Beckett obliged by slamming a fist into it. Colin landed hard on his backside. “You iron-fisted bastard. Four years of saved up rage makes for a powerful wallop.” He struggled to his feet and gave his head a shake. Wincing, he moved his jaw from side to side. “You want to know how I seduced her into the mill. It was a struggle. First I sweet-talked. When coaxing had no effect, I wheedled and begged. And when all that failed, I shattered her heart. I told her you cared not a farthing for her.”

Beckett rubbed his fist. “Why?”

“I caught her staring at you. Like you were the sun and moon wrapped in star shine. I wanted to keep it as it was. Three friends.” He shrugged. “And her beauty is undeniable. Christiana could turn a eunuch hard.”

Embarrassed, Christiana ducked back behind the curtains. “Here you both go again. Stop talking about me as if I am not in the room.” She screamed into a pillow.

Beckett lifted a corner of the curtain and peered in at her, a small, sad smile tilting the corner of his lips. “Get dressed, Christiana, Colin is ready to escort you.”

“Stay abed, Christy. I will greet the king's man with Beckett.”

“If you wish. It should prove quite a spectacle,” Beckett told Colin. It sounded to Christiana as though he were offering a measure of forgiveness.

Christiana reached under the bed hangings, feeling around until she located her clothing.

“Tiana, you will not be coming.”

Balancing on the mattress, she yanked on her clothes. “I will do as I want.”

Thankfully, the cousins knew better than to issue any more dictatorial edicts.

Though she'd retched herself weak in the chamber pot, nausea threatened again as Christiana descended the stone staircase. The thought of seeing Beckett escorted out of his own hall to his imprisonment or execution made her mouth dry with fear. But she followed in the wake of the de Saxbys knowing she was facing her own doom as well. If he were no longer on this earth, she would find life unbearable.

She took his hand as they walked toward the hall. He looked over at her, his thick lashes shadowing the blackest of eyes. Lifting her fingers, he rubbed them along his bottom lip. He exchanged glances with Colin over her head.

“You know I will always look out for her,” Colin said.

An ill-omened hush fell over the assembled people. Dinner had been served, but the great mounds of food lay untouched. The only guests dining as though nothing unusual was afoot were the Pikhorn women.

“That's quite a hearty appetite your betrothed has, Beckett,” Colin muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“You must look past that leg of mutton she nibbles upon. It is only a way to mask her very real worry for me,” Beckett said dryly.

“Stop this,” Christiana's voice cracked. “Beckett faces the threat of execution, and you two are making jests.”

The cousins glanced back at her and then grinned at each other. Colin's smile had a lopsided tilt because of his swollen jaw.

“Perhaps, Beckett, Cook is plumping her up so that she can be the main course at her own wedding feast.” Colin's voice echoed in the vast room.

Despite her misery, Christiana giggled.

A loud gasp was followed by a choking cough. Lady Pikhorn delivered a ruthless slap to her daughter's back as the woman reached for the chalice in front of her. After swallowing back the wine, she slammed the vessel down. She shot a poisonous glare across the room at Christiana.

Christiana scooted out of view behind Beckett and grasped his tunic with her trembling fingers. “Please do not leave me, Beckett,” she whispered.

He reached around and squeezed her against his hard body. Then he released his comforting hold and stepped onto the dais. Christiana scurried to stand near Colin. She would watch the whole scene from over his shoulder.

A humorless smile played on Beckett's lips as he spotted Pikhorn. The Fox was standing in the corner, his eyes glinting with unnatural excitement.

“Lord Treshingham has honored us with a visit, Dareford.” Pikhorn waved his hand toward the king's envoy as he crossed the room accompanied by his guards.

The fur cape clasped with a jeweled brooch bespoke prestige, but the breeches beneath were of a rough fabric and the boots weathered, a concession to days on the road.

Sweeping his cape aside, Lord Treshingham exposed the ebony helmet he carried. He set it before Beckett.

The man nodded his head toward the helmet. “Familiar?”

“Aye. An ill-built piece of hardware. The eye piece is too narrow, like looking through a kettle spout.” Awed whispers and mutterings spread through the hall.

Almost instantly, the dais filled with men. Some of the scarred visages were familiar to Christiana. The men's frames were so broad that they presented a human wall behind their leader.

BOOK: The Heat of the Knight
10.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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