Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (41 page)

So much for being worried. It’s clear Trenton loves
being whipped as much as I love whipping him. Still, I’ll be
careful. I don’t want to draw any blood. That could get messy.

I make the cat-o-nine-tails dance across Trenton’s
whole body until every inch of his skin is bright red, his eyes
squinting and his mouth twisting into an expression of deep
pleasure. The sound of his labored breathing and the musky scent of
his arousal fill the room. And I’m caught up in the heat of the
moment as much as he is. Every time the whip comes crashing down, I
feel my cunt get hotter and wetter. I’m a natural-born dominatrix,
and it seems there is nothing my body loves more than a good
whipping session.

Soon, Trenton and I are both whipped into a frenzy.
His body arches up on the cross, his bulging cock seeking something
to push into. He’s ready to fuck, and how!

And I’m ready to fuck him back.

I pull my light linen nightdress over my head, and
stand naked before him. All my worries about Pembroke, Lord
Verdigris, how I’ll get back to my own time, et cetera, all melt
away as my attention shifts towards satisfying the ache in my cunt.
Right now, my cunt and his cock are the only things that exist in
the universe. And they are each tailor-made for the other.

I pull a chair up to the edge of the cross and sit
down with my legs wide so Trenton can look inside my wet, dripping
cunt. I part my lips and begin to stroke my clit, bringing myself
to orgasm almost immediately. The Rose Knight’s eyes widen and he
licks his lips as he watches me touch myself. His hips begin to
grind and thrust the empty air in anticipation of getting inside
the dewy wet flower between my legs. He sniffs the air, smelling
the salty-sweet scent of my pussy, and licks his lips, almost as if
he’s trying to eat the image of my cunt from his imagination.

Watching his tongue work the air in front of his
face just makes me want the real thing. So I stand up, straddle the
Cross so my cunt hovers over Trenton’s open mouth, and let him eat
me raw. The tip of his tongue probes all my nooks and crannies,
does acrobatics against my clit I never knew were physically
possible. Before I know it I’m coming again, rocking and rolling my
hips against Trenton’s face as the power of my orgasm takes hold of
my whole body, spasming up and out from the deepest folds of my
cunt through my belly, down my legs, and finally exploding out the
top of my head.

“Unnnnnnuuuuuhhhhh,” I grunt, completely losing
control. I come so hard, I see stars.

A moment later I return to earth, and my cunt cries
out for more. So I rotate my hips in a counterclockwise circle
against Trenton’s darting tongue, and am riding another wild round
of orgasmic vibrations almost immediately. When they finally
subside, I know it’s time to get that beautiful freckled cock
inside me before it explodes its seed into the air.

I slide myself slowly along Trenton’s sweat-soaked,
heaving body until my cunt is perched just above his glistening
cock. I lower myself onto it, making swirling motions with my hips
to maximize the sensation of entry, until the tip of his cock hits
my G-spot with a resounding
thud.

We fuck fast and hard, making the wood of the Cross
creak and bend beneath our bucking, banging bodies. I throw my head
back and scream as I come one final, resounding time, and feel
Trenton’s climax explode into me a split-second later. It’s a fuck
for the ages.

I collapse against the Rose Knight’s chest,
exhausted from so many orgasms in such a short span of time. I doze
there for a few minutes, until I see the afternoon light start to
bend, the shadows on the floor to lengthen. Trenton’s breathing
becomes long, slow and even as he dozes, too.

Finally, we stir. I life my hips off his sleeping
cock and go to untie the straps holding down the Rose Knight’s arms
and legs to the cross. We both transfer ourselves to the
four-poster bed, where Trenton stretches his stiff limbs and
relaxes. But he still doesn’t speak. Obviously he’s still seeking
his mistress’ permission.

“You are released, Trenton,” I say, my voice soft,
my tone gentle. “You may now do whatever you wish.”

He reaches over and strokes my cheek. “What I wish
is to remain in your presence forever, milady Louisa.”

I giggle and blush. “I’m afraid Lord Verdigris won’t
allow that. I’m
his
slave, after all, and also his
favorite.” I think about Pembroke’s hold on me too, though I don’t
dare mention it.

Trenton sighs. “This I know, milady. I’m afraid I
understand Lord Verdigris’ wrath all too well.”

I know now that I’ve earned the Rose Knight’s trust,
so I decide to find out if what Bridget told me about him is true.
“I’ve heard a rumor that Lord Verdigris had your Beloved killed. Is
that true?”

He nods, his eyes going from green to black.

I ponder this for a moment. “So you are the most
loyal vassal of the lord who killed your Beloved? It doesn’t make
sense.”

Trenton sighs. “Things are not always as they seem,
milady. As the saying goes, one keeps his friends close, but his
enemies closer.”

“So you’re trying to infiltrate him from the inside,
then. Very shrewd. What’s your plan?”

Trenton stares at the ceiling, expressionless. “I’m
afraid I cannot reveal too much, milady. Lest my plan be
destroyed.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” I promise. “There are
others among us in the House of Harlots who wish to be free of Lord
Verdigris’ tyranny, too.”

Trenton relaxes, and his eyes go back to their deep
green again. “I shall remember that, Lady Louisa. Perhaps when the
time is right, I will engage you in my plans.”

He stands up, stretches. I study the rippled muscles
that form a corded pattern on his freckled back. A beautiful man
who has been scarred by tragedy. A beautiful man who has lost his
Beloved, and seeks to avenge her.

The Rose Knight is the ultimate tragic romantic
hero. Mel Gibson has nothing on him. Hell, Mel Gibson is
old.

Trenton gets himself dressed and prepares to leave.
I’m surprised at how sorry I am to see him go. After all, my heart
already belongs to Pembroke. . .or does it?

“Alas, milady Louisa, I am afraid I must now take my
leave,” he says, giving me a graceful bow. “But I think we shall
meet again soon. Very soon.”

“Good luck with your whole vengeance thing,” I say.
“And like I said, your secret is safe with me.”

“Methinks you shall be a help to me on my quest,
Louisa. And sooner than you might think.” With that, the Rose
Knight departs.

I sink back into the bedpillows, trying to take it
all in. In the past two hours, I’ve fucked two very, very different
men—both of whom are on missions to escape from (and subsequently
destroy) Lord Verdigris. And they
both
want my help. I’m not
sure where my loyalties lie. Conflict stirs deep in my belly.

Then again, there’s no reason why I can’t be loyal
to
both
of them. They’re after the same thing after all—some
tied-up-and-whipped nooky with me, along with my help overthrowing
Lord Verdigris and his evil time-traveling minions. Hell, maybe I
could even get the two of them to work together.

In my bedchamber.

A
ménage a trois
between a New Jersey toll
collector, an English Regency gentleman, and a bloodthirsty,
vengeance-seeking medieval romantic. With a little bondage stirred
in.

Now
that
would be interesting.

I’m daydreaming about the crazy sexual adventures
I’ll have with Pembroke and the Rose Knight tied up together in my
four-poster bed when Bridget bursts in.

“Milady! Milady! I just saw the Rose Knight leave!
An’ ‘e was grinning from ear to ear! Providence knows
that
man nivver smiles. What on earth did you do to ‘im, milady?”

I chuckle. “More like what
didn’t
I do.”

At this, Bridget blushes. “Ye are already gettin’
quite a reputation in the Hall of Harlots, milady,” she says. “I
daresay that some o’ the other workin’ girls are a-gettin’ jealous
of ye.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? Is that good or
bad?”

Bridget finds a clean silk underdress in my wardrobe
and holds it out for me to put on. “’Tis a little o’ both, lass.
Some o’ the more experienced—dare I say,
older
—Harlots will
be glad you’re takin’ a bit o’ th’ workload off o’ them. But the
younger an’ prettier Harlots—well, I daresay most o’ them’ll be
jealous. An’ scared. For sometimes His Lordship is known to turn
out the Harlots ‘e’s tired of that ain’t yet earned their
keep.”

“What do you mean,
earned their keep
?”

Bridget purses her lips. “I thought I explained that
to ye already, lass.”

“Refresh my memory.”

“Well milady, there ain’t a way to put it
delicately, so I’ll just cut straight to th’ chase. Lord Verdigris’
knights an’ vassals, they
pay
him a duty to bed with ye. The
younger, prettier, and more popular the Harlot, the more she costs.
An’
ye
are quite expensive at present, milady. The Rose
Knight, he just paid
ten thousand
silver pieces to bed with
ye this afternoon.”

My jaw drops. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, a little bird told me, lass.” Bridget takes a
hairbrush and a pot of pomade from my dressing table and begins
brushing out my bed-tangled locks. “Methinks ye will earn yer keep
soon enough. Mayhaps even in a few days. That alone’ll be enough to
have some o’ the more jealous Harlots a-plottin’ yer
destruction.”

I jump to my feet, yanking the hairbrush from
Bridget’s hand, and a clump of my hair along with it. “Wait a
minute. Exactly how much does a Harlot have to earn before she
earns her keep
? And what do you mean,
plot my
destruction
? Who would do such a thing? And what would that
entail, exactly?”

Bridget gives me a grave look. “Quite a lot o’
things, I’m afraid. I’ve seen it ‘appen many a time in my years in
the Hall.”

“Be specific.”

Bridget sighs. “Well, could be anything from puttin’
a caterpillar in yer bowl o’ buttermilk to killin’ ye, lass. And
‘most anything in-between.”

“
Kill
me? Someone in the Hall of Harlots
could actually
kill
me just because they’re jealous? Are you
serious?”

Bridget nods. “I’m ‘fraid so. I’ve seen it ‘appen,
lass. Why, just last winter, me favorite lady among the Harlots was
killed, alas.They never proved who did it, but I’ve always thunk
‘twas Madam Jasphet. I’d watch out fer that Madam Jasphet if I were
ye, lass. She’s a cold one, she is.”

Chills travel down my spine and land at my insteps.
“What could Madame Jasphet possibly have against me? I don’t even
know the woman.”

“Quite a lot, I’m afraid. Ye usurped her as Lord
Verdigris’ favorite, fer one.”

“But Lord Verdigris is our kidnapper, prison warden,
and a generally an all-around evil bastard. You’d think I’d have
done her a favor.”

Bridget shakes her head and laughs. “Ye’d be
surprised at what Harlots will take offense at, ‘specially the most
senior ones. Ye all may be prisoners here, yes, but ye also depend
on Lord Verdigris for yer very existence. Anything that comes
between a body and her very existence is bound to bend a body out
o’ shape, lass.”

I start to pace the room. I’m hyperventilating now.
After all, it isn’t every day that one learns one’s life is in
danger—and in another century to boot. “So, what I can I do to
prevent my own destruction? I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer
to stay alive, even if I am a kidnapped sex slave.” Not that I’m
not having a
very
good time as a kidnapped sex slave—but
that’s beside the point.

Bridget shrugs. “I’m afraid there’s very little to
be done ‘bout it, lass. I’m a prisoner here meself, same as ye. I
can’t do anything that’ll draw too much attention to meself by the
wrong folks, and nor can ye.” She crosses to me and takes both my
hands in hers. “But I
can
tell ye this. If ye become of a
mind to start protectin’ yerself from all things menacin’, I’d
start out by puttin’ a little distance between yerself an’ Master
Pembroke. He’s assigned to guard ye, not to bed ye. An’ as much as
I think ye two are made fer each other, ye are playin’ with fire,
lass. Ye’d be much safer cozyin’ up to the payin’ customers, like
the Rose Knight.” She gives me a naughty look and squeezes both my
hands. “Ye still ain’t told me how ye got
that
melancholy
lad a-smilin’ from ear t’ ear, lass.”

I squeeze Bridget’s hands in return. “Let’s just say
the Rose Knight has a weakness for a lady with a whip.”

Bridget lets out a hearty laugh. “Methinks when word
gets out about how ye brought the Rose Knight ‘imself to his knees,
ye will be a-beatin’ the lads off with a stick.” She bites her
tongue. “
Or
a whip. Milady, that reminds me of what I came
here to tell ye.”

“What’s that?”

“The annual Harlot’s Ball is comin’ up next week,
just five days hence. It’s the only party His Lordship affords ‘is
Harlots all the year long. An’ it’s the one time that ye Harlots
can live and roam ‘bout Bellweather Castle as ye will, if only fer
one day.”

The Harlot’s Ball
? I can’t resist a snicker
or two. The number of double entendres in that phrase is
ridiculous.

But if what Bridget says is true—that I and all the
other Harlots will have free run of the castle for one day and one
day alone—it does seem that would be mine and Pembroke’s best
chance at escape. And maybe the Rose Knight’s best chance at
vengeance, too.

The only question is, how?

As Bridget gets back to work tugging all the tangles
out of my hair, my mind’s gears start turning, and turning
fast.

The Harlot’s Ball is less than a week away. I don’t
have any time to waste.