A Knight Such as This: Enhanced with Interactive Content: (Time Travel Romance) Book 1 & 2 (Ravenhurst Series)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  Even though he was becoming aroused, he was a bit reluctant to play her little game and did in fact have pressing matters to attend to this day, but just as he was about to step away from her he noticed how hard her nipples had become from his nearness. Well, he reasoned quickly, he had put off his pressing matters before, so they could certainly wait a bit longer. He brought his hand to the front of her gown boldly and waited for a moment, when he heard no protest he gently stroked the tips of his fingers over the swell of her breasts.

  As his fingers delved deeply down into my gown, I leaned back into the chair for support. If I didn’t, I would surely fall over. My skin burned where his fingers caressed. My mind, however, was screaming at me to go slow, that I was being too hasty. Lifting a shaky hand, I tried to stop him from delving down further but he simply pushed my hand away. I closed my eyes and my breath came out in shortened gasps. I couldn’t believe I was letting a stranger caress my boobs, in the middle of a library… in the past. I tried to tell myself it was all for the poor knight, but deep down I knew that was not the only reason. The truth was pretty obvious. I wanted him to touch me and I wanted to touch him as well, but was afraid of the consequences of such an act. Even so, that did not stop me from wanting to say something to intrigue him, tempt him, and make him burn with desire.

  Unfortunately, with my poor track record with men, I really had no idea how to go about that. So instead, I waited, feeling like a fool, for him to make the next move.

  Sebastian could not help wondering what happened to the brazen girl he had seen just moments before. He leaned in and inhaled her scent. She smelled of sweet flowers warmed by the sun. With her head turned to the side, he saw she was giving him access to the delicate curve of her neck and her pulse was throbbing. Leaning forward, he gently pressed his lips over her racing pulse, and licked the sweetness of her skin.

  Coming inches from her face, he dipped down and claimed her lips. Using his tongue, he coaxed her to open her mouth so he could deepen the kiss as her hands slid up his chest and then around his neck. He felt the pull of her fingers as they tangled in his hair.

  Suddenly not able to feel close enough to her, her pulled her roughly against him as ran his hand over her breasts, squeezing, kneading them. It wasn’t enough. Reaching around, he loosened her gown. She opened her mouth wider, letting his tongue delve even deeper.

  “You taste so sweet,” he breathed out seductively. Aching for more, he pressed his leg between hers and lifted her gown. “I am going to take you right here… right now,” he murmured huskily against her ear as his mouth, sucked and nibbled her neck.

  When she did not protest, he took it as a good sign. He looked down at her face. Her head was back and her eyes were shut with a look of wonderment on her lovely flushed face. If he did not know better he would think she had no idea what he was about to do to her person. But with no protest, he became even bolder, wondering how much farther she was willing to take this little game she had begun. Keeping her skirts in one hand, he pulled her bodice down with the other, releasing her breasts entirely from the confines of her gown and placed his mouth on her hardened nipple, suckling it with his lips and tongue. She gasped out in pleasure. He suddenly did not care what game she was playing, he was hard, straining against his breeches, wanting… no, needing release.

  Pushing into her more, he waited for her to do something, anything, other than demurely kiss his neck. He became bolder as he waited and pulled her bodice down further. Her breasts were even more delectable than he remembered. He waited for the inevitable. At any moment he knew she would release him and do the same thing to his body that Annabelle had done so many times before. She finally released his neck and ran her hands down the front of his chest. Then she stopped.

  He held back a groan, waiting once more. He could not take it. He ran his hand over the round curve of her sweet derriere and dipped his hand just between her thighs and then slowly pulled back. She sucked in her breath as though she were shocked.

  He smiled, enjoying her little game of innocence as she tormented his body with her own. He lowered his mouth to her breast again, kissing her everywhere, instead of the one place she wanted his mouth. He wanted her to see how it felt to be teased. She slid her hand back into his hair as he slipped his hand down between her legs once more. He could tell she was more than ready for him and still… she did nothing. It was so obvious to him she was no longer an innocent. The way she rubbed her breasts against him, the way her mouth toyed with his, sucking, pulling, teasing. He forced her previous admission from his mind that her lover would be returning for her. He knew she did not outwardly admit he was her lover, but where else could she have been all this time if not with a lover? He forced the images from his mind. He did not want to think about that now.

  She continued to tease him, but thoughts of her betrayal bubbled forth in his mind, once more. That was it. He had enough of her silly games. He grabbed her hand from around his neck and pushed it down over his breeches. He kept his hand over hers, waiting to see what she would do.

  I froze. He was putting my hand right on his… Oh, I was taking this little game way too far. My mind was spinning—I was out of control. I had to slow down. If I slept with him now, he would surely lose interest. Cosmopolitan never said, “Give him all you have and hope he comes back for seconds.” I was sure it worked for some girls, but unfortunately, I didn’t think I could swing that one.

  No, I knew if I slept with him now, I would be just like any other girl he slept with. Nothing more than a moment’s pleasure. It all made complete sense to me, but it didn’t stop my body from shivering with desire when his fingers slid down between my legs once more. I wanted to cave. My body trembled. I did not know what to do. Would it even make a difference? My mind said yes, but my body said no.

  Sebastian was tired of waiting for her to figure out what she was going to do. He sighed in frustration and let go of her hand. He was hard as hell. What silly game was she playing now?

  Well, he certainly knew how Annabelle felt when he left her in such a state. This precocious wench was taking him to the edge and leaving him there. He looked at her face, so lovely and flushed. Her bare breasts were still exposed, a sheen of perspiration shining on them in the firelight. She kept her gaze downcast. He was tempted to walk away, but something stopped him. He found he could not walk away, at least not yet.

  Apparently, he was not ready to quit this silly little game of cat and mouse. So instead of leaving, he stepped forward and grabbed her body roughly to his own. He was satisfied when she gasped, followed by a breathy moan of pleasure.

  He pulled her against him fully and seized her mouth once again.

  “If you want to stop you had best speak up,” he murmured against her lips while he gathered her gown in his hand once again. Reaching around, he grabbed onto each cheek of her perfectly rounded derrière, and squeezed until she whimpered in pleasure. With a satisfied smile, he lifted her right leg up and settled himself against her. Once again, her hands slid slowly down the front of his chest. He waited and her hands stilled, again.

  “You are driving me crazy.” He seized her soft lips with his own again and devoured all she was offering.

  He could feel her fingers toying with the fastenings of his breeches. He throbbed to be touched under the fabric. She was taking too long. He tore his mouth from hers and grabbed her breast again. She was so close to giving him exactly what he wanted… what he needed. He ran his hand roughly up her leg, his fingers almost touching her where he knew she burned, making her wait as well. Turnabout was fair play.

  She pressed into him, writhing, trying to move closer. He smiled and stayed his hand on her thigh. Rubbing slowly, methodically with his fingers, up and down, up and down he caressed, getting closer with each pass.

  Oh, he wanted to give her what she so obviously wanted but his pride would not let him give in to her yet. He wanted her to make the next move in this little game of chess they had begun. He wanted her to
beg. She was shaking, and her breath was coming out in rushed hitches as her fingers fumbled with the front of his breeches. He leaned in and kissed her just below her ear, right on the sweet spot of her neck.

  “That’s it,” he coaxed as she shivered against him in response.

  One button finally undone. He closed his eyes… he could almost taste the satisfaction. There were only a few more, then she could wrap her sweet…

  A large crash sounded in the hall, followed by, “Oh no!”

  “Bloody Hell!”

  TIME DOES NOT HEAL ALL WOUNDS

  HAWTHORNE MANOR

  DEVLIN strode into Hawthorne Manor with an air of noble authority, his face still chilled from the haste in which he rode back to the manor. He was in need of release now.

  “Judith!” he yelled, his voice echoed through the hall and into the study. “Judith!” he called, louder, running up the stairs to look in the room they were staying in, Isabelle’s bedchamber. He usually found her up there, trying on Isabelle’s clothing, admiring herself in the mirror.

  However, Judith was not there, either. “Bloody hell!” Judith was never around when he actually wanted her to be. He walked back down the stairs, stopping long enough to throw his coat over the railing. He almost yelled for a servant, before remembering he made them all leave under the guise of a coming blizzard.

  He certainly did not need them meddling in his affairs, since he was not sure what to do with Isabelle. Judith, of course, wanted her gone. He could not do that though. At least, not yet. No, he would need to think on it some more, another day perhaps. Maybe she would come to her senses and realize she was the one who pushed him into Judith’s awaiting arms.

  Wanting nothing more, than a hot beverage and some damn release he strode into the study and poured an ample amount of brandy in his glass. It was close to the brim, but not a drop slipped from the crystal snifter onto the carpet. He smiled knowingly and settled himself into a chair in front of the fireplace that had long since gone cold.

  Devlin let his mind stray to another time…

  HAWTHORNE MANOR * MEMORY

  “Devlin put those bags down. You are the Lord of Hawthorne now, not a servant,” Isabelle berated him as she pulled her gloves off and handed them to Charles.

  Devlin tensed. “Sorry, love. I have not become accustomed to my new station in life as of yet.”

  “Oh Devlin, give it time, you’ll come around soon enough.” Isabelle lifted her hand and used her index finger to beckon him to her.

  Devlin smiled. They had just come back from their honeymoon. It was a long one. Isabelle wanted to visit so many places and see so many things. She often told him she needed to show him off. He found out quickly enough that his role was only to be seen, not heard. He had become Isabelle’s young show pony, to parade in front of society and her so-called haggish friends with doddering husbands. He wondered if everyone could see the invisible lead rope tethered to his neck as she dragged him around, making him prance. He certainly could feel it, squeezing the life from him as each day passed… until the day, he saw her, Marguerite…

  ‡

  He sighed aloud and took another drink. Loosening his cravat, he closed his eyes and let his mind slip back into the past...

  KEY FOUR

  “Isabelle, where did you say we were going this evening?” Devlin asked, rushing into the study. It was Isabelle’s favorite place to be, besides the bedchamber. He pulled up short in his progression. A young woman stood in the middle of the room, her spine rigid. She was speaking in hushed, angry tones to Isabelle. He saw Isabelle cut her a silencing glare.

  Then she turned around, looking over her shoulder at him. His breath caught in his throat. He felt like he had been thrown from his prized stallion—all wind knocked from his lungs. Ironically, Isabelle bought him the stallion for a wedding gift. He found it fitting, especially since he was the one that turned out to be the actual show pony.

  Her violet eyes ignited with anger, her face flushed, her cheeks glistened with tears she had recently shed, and yet, she still smiled at him, sweetly. That simple gesture was his undoing. Devlin saw the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel that day. He smiled back with all the emotion he was feeling. They had a connection.

  “Close your mouth, Devlin, you are salivating,” Isabelle warned, her green eyes sparking with anger. She, Marguerite, quickly turned away, covering her face before dashing from the room.

  Devlin shut his mouth obediently and smoothed his features.

  Yes, that was the day when Isabelle became nothing more to him than a means to an end.

  A MOMENT’S PLEASURE CAN FADE

  RAVENHURST

  SEBASTIAN dragged his hand through his hair as he watched one of the footman help Milford to the kitchen. The man almost gave him heart failure. When he went to the foyer to see what the commotion was about, he saw Milford lying amongst broken glass and greenery. His leg twisted awkwardly, and his face was ashen. Immediately he thought the worst.

  Luckily, Milford had only taken a small spill, apparently from slipping on some of the water from the vase he carried. Sebastian was not sure what he was doing carrying the vase in the first place. The maids usually did all the floral arrangements. But it was the end to the moment he shared with Marguerite. Now he lifted heavily lidded eyes to her as she braced herself in the library doorway. Her face was still flushed, her gown rumpled, and her hair was completely undone. She looked well loved, even though they had yet to finish what they started with one another.

  Just looking at her, he could feel himself hardening again. Her blue eyes glittered with a hint of a sweet, shy smile, pulling on the corners of her swollen lips.

  He suddenly wondered if she looked like that with the rakehell she left him for. Did she let him touch her body the same way? Did she make his pulse race by playing her coy, little games? Did she make the rogue wait to be touched as well? He did not think so.

  Lifting his eyes to hers once more, he felt sicker as each moment passed. He could not take it. He gave her a cutting look and watched her face fall. She wrapped her arms around herself, a look of hurt and confusion crossing her face. A pang of guilt assailed him, which he dashed away, quickly. He had to hand it to her… she was good. He almost believed her, almost. He would not be taken in again. He was a complete and utter fool. He gave her one last, harsh look, then turned on his heel and walked deliberately away, wishing she never came back.

  PAYBACKS ARE A BITCH

  HAWTHORNE MANOR

  JUDITH balanced the tray she was holding on her hip and peered into the gloom of the cellar through the bars in the door. “Oh, Isabelle, do rouse your sorry-self. I brought food for you, and if you are nice, I will not throw it on the floor this time.” Judith giggled like a naughty child.

  Isabelle lay perfectly still, forcing herself not to rebuff the little trollop.

  Irritated, Judith stopped laughing. Isabelle was not playing fair. That old bat was taking all the fun out of her little game. She was having such a good time tormenting Isabelle she even came earlier than usual this day.

  “Isabelle,” she sang out, her shrill voice filling the air. “I have to say, Devlin and I have been having such a grand time making use of your chamber since you have been indisposed,” she snickered meanly, shifting the tray on her side.

  “You know, it still boggles my mind how you ever thought a man such as Devlin would be interested in an old, dried-up crone like you.” Judith laughed harder, emitting a snorting sound.

  “I swear, you must have been desperate to actually believe he enjoyed having his way with you,” she jeered again.

  There was no response.

  Judith was getting angry. This was no fun.

  She watched for any signs of movement, but there was still none. She began to know fear. If she accidentally starved the old bat, Devlin would certainly notice. Of course, he would blame her, as he always did whenever their plans went awry. Moreover, Judith knew she would end up as dead as their
captive if that occurred. She lay down the tray and unbarred the door.

  She cautiously entered the room. A vile smell assaulted her and she covered her face, thinking it smelled just as she imagined an old crone would smell… disgusting. She kicked Isabelle’s leg with her booted foot but she did not budge.

  Suppressing a gag, she reached down with one hand while the other covered her face, and tried to turn her over.

  Isabelle stayed as limp as possible, letting Judith roll her over. She gripped the cup in her hand. When Judith was close enough, she smashed the cup with all her force into the side of Judith’s head.

  Judith stumbled backward. She touched the side of her head. Pulling her fingers away she looked at them in confused shock. They were full of warm, wet blood.

  Isabelle struggled to stand and then hit Judith again with everything she had.

  Judith’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fell forward onto the floor, right into Isabelle’s vomit.

  The cup clanked loudly on the floor as Isabelle threw it down. She wiped her shaking hands on the front of her filthy skirt. “That’s what you get for sleeping with my husband.” She gathered what little saliva she still had in her mouth and spat directly onto the side of Judith’s face.