The One Knight Collection (Medieval Sensual Romance)

by Samantha Holt

  “And a nameless man?” She tilted her chin, feigning a confidence that she no longer felt.

  His mouth quirked. “Aye.”

  As his warm hands remained firmly on her waist, she sighed. “You leave me with little choice, do you not?”

  “Nay.”

  He released a grin, the white of his teeth flashing into the night and she struggled to retain an expression of aloofness.

  “As you will then. I am to travel to Aelhaven.”

  Sara was to meet her friend, Mary, who was going to come with her to France. From there they were going to seek refuge with Sara’s aunt. Aunt Rosalie was an unusual woman and a great influence on Sara, having remained widowed since the death of her brute of a husband some ten years ago. Since then, she had steadfastly refused all offers of betrothal and maintained a strong independence that Sara envied.

  A shout sounded out from above them and torches became visible along the top of the walls. Her absence had finally been noted.

  “With great haste,” she added.

  The knight grinned again and tossed her legs easily over the saddle as he settled her into his lap and directed his mount to the west.

  “As you bid, my lady.”

  ***

  As Sara nestled into his lap, Christian clenched his teeth, attempting to restrain himself. Her small body pressed against his was almost more than he could bear. She was slender, but curved, and he had spent many an hour fantasising over his brief glimpses of her silk encased breasts. The reality proved to be far more enticing than his imaginings, but it was not just her perfect form that enticed him. Her bravado impressed him. She was a feisty creature and he welcomed the opportunity to get to know her better. Life would never be dull with her, he suspected.

  They made their way through the valley towards the next village. It was sparsely forested so they moved at a fair pace, Sara’s bottom jostling against him. Flaming torches could be seen coming down the mound from Whitemoor but Christian had put enough distance between them for him to feel confident that they would not catch up. Indeed, it was probable that they would search the cottages surrounding the keep first, not suspecting Sara had assistance.

  They would reach Aelhaven within the hour at their current pace and there he would deliver Sara to her friend. What Sara knew not, was that Christian had little intention of being parted from her. Not until he had convinced her of his ardour.

  He knew of her plan to escape her wedding, having caught wind of her scheme a sennight ago. Sara’s friend, Mary, had known him from childhood and trusted him implicitly. One night was all he had asked for. He had promised that if he could not convince Sara of their need for one another, he would release her and allow her to make for France as planned.

  Christian prayed that he could achieve in one night, what he had failed to do in these past five summers.

  ***

  As they rode through the sleepy village, the houses closed in around them, the streets growing tighter as they reached the centre of Aelhaven. The thatched houses were dark, most of the residents now asleep, and the only sounds that could be heard was that of livestock and the raucous sounds of inebriation emerging from the inn not too far ahead.

  Sara trembled slightly and Christian wondered if it was from cold or fear. The night was crisp, their breath frosting in the air, and he hoped it was the chill that caused her reaction. He did not wish her to fear him but he knew not how else to persuade her to come with him. Any other woman would probably have been scared by being practically abducted but not Sara. He smiled inwardly; she truly was a remarkable woman.

  Tugging her into him, he felt her resist for a moment before giving in and huddling into the warmth of his body. Her breath hitched and Christian delighted in his small victory. She was just as affected by him as he was her. Leaning into her, he allowed his breath to whisper over her cheek as he inhaled her sweet fragrance. A slight sound resonated in her throat and he grinned.

  “Is all well, my lady?”

  “Aye,” she whispered huskily.

  “We shall be there in but a moment.”

  “Aye.”

  ***

  Mary’s cottage was a small, thatched dwelling on the outer reaches of the village. Her husband had died just two seasons after they were wed, leaving her with little. She had agreed to come with Sara to France with the promise of a new life.

  Sara was surprised to see no candles lit in the windows. All seemed dark. Mayhap she was sleeping.

  Christian dismounted with ease and aided her down, allowing her to slide along the length of his body. She scowled at him, questioning his intentions but his face remained guileless, just the hint of a sensual smile playing on his mouth.

  Sara studied his lips briefly as she recovered from the feel of his hard body clinging to her soft one. They were made for kissing, she concluded reluctantly. Soft enough so that one would enjoy such attentions but still hard enough so that you would know you were thoroughly kissed.

  Glancing up at his eyes, she froze as she noticed the desire that had suddenly formed in them. He was having the same thoughts! A blush rose in her cheeks and she turned away suddenly. She did not even know the man’s name and yet she was harbouring all kinds of wanton imaginings. He could be dangerous and very well take exactly what he wanted. Sweet Mary, what a fool she was!

  He let her go, watching from a distance as Sara knocked on the oak door. No candles were lit and no sounds could be heard from the cottage.

  As she waited patiently, Christian came up behind her, his presence sending thrills trickling down her spine.

  “There is no-one home, my lady.”

  “I can see that,” she snapped.

  Cautiously pushing open the door, she looked around the one roomed cottage. Mary was no-where to be seen. Where could she be?

  Christian followed her in, his large form dominating the tiny interior of the cottage. Sara’s skin prickled with heat as the small confines amplified the energy that seemed to vibrate the air between them.

  Fumbling to light some tallow candles, she kept her back to him, slightly fearful of viewing him in the candlelight. Finally summoning her courage, she faced him, gasping out loud. His eyes were green - she could see that now - and thoroughly mesmerising. Gilded by the candlelight, he reflected such raw beauty that it both petrified and captivated her. Something struck her as familiar about him, but she disregarded that thought as she as sure she would remember such a face.

  As her legs wobbled beneath her she settled herself on a rickety bench. “You need not stay any longer. I will be well enough here.”

  Pulling off his gauntlets, he made a show of placing them on the battered wooden table that occupied one half of the room.

  “I will not leave you unaccompanied.”

  Sara sighed. She could have guessed he would not. Sizing him up, she concluded that he could do little harm to her plans. As soon as Mary returned, she would send him on his way. So far he had behaved honourably and there was something about him that she innately trusted. It was an odd sensation to feel so strongly about a knight she barely knew.

  Her mouth dried as she watched him unlace his surcoat. Her eyes widened as he smiled at her. Mayhap she had misjudged him.

  “Forgive me, my lady. I only wish to remove this heavy mail.”

  Sara blinked. “Aye, of course.”

  She watched, feeling idiotic, as he struggled to remove his hauberk, battling with the clasp at his neck.

  “May I beg a favour, my lady? Will you help me remove this cursed thing?” he asked sheepishly.

  Coming quickly to her feet, she nodded, finding speech difficult. Her fingers trembled as she fought with the clasp until it came free and she could feel her lungs constrict as they stood naught more than half a pace apart. God’s blood, what was this man doing to her?

  As the coif slid to the floor, he pulled at the hem of his hauberk, attempting to yank it over his head. Sara unthinkingly assisted in hauling the chainmail up until her finge
rs brushed across the plane of his stomach that had become bared when he raised his arms. He stiffened at the brief touch and she noted the harsh rasp of his breath.

  Colouring, she continued to help him pull the heavy mail over his head, trying not to gawp at the pure perfection of him as he stood in front of her with his dark hair in disarray. He looked as though he had just stepped out of bed and unbidden thoughts of him lying in her bed consumed her.

  Finally he removed his padded gambeson, leaving him in naught more than a white linen shirt and chausses. His chest peeked over the loosely laced collar of his shirt, the skin just begging for her touch. Her hand reached out involuntarily and traced across his collar bone. His flesh was smooth and hot, sending waves of sensation coursing through her. She stared at her hand, quite unable to believe what she was doing, yet unable to remove it.

  ***

  Christian froze under her bold touch, petrified of scaring her away. In truth, he had begun to conclude that his plan was pure folly, having little idea how on Earth he was going to convince Sara of his love for her. Yet, here she was, unabashedly touching him.

  Her fingers traced over him, dipping slightly underneath the fabric of his shirt. He bit back a groan as he studied her. God’s teeth, she was breath-taking. Her pale skin was made for his touch, her ebony hair created so that he could run his hands through it, and her lips crafted entirely to be kissed by his.

  Tentatively, he reached out to stroke a thumb over her cheek. Instead of bolting away, she tilted her gaze to his, capturing him with her bright eyes. Emboldened, he dipped his finger to her mouth, tracing the lines of it. A slight gasp sounded from her as he continued to trail the finger down her jawline to the neckline of her gown, mimicking her movements.

  She dropped her hand suddenly and Christian cursed inwardly. He had pushed too far already. But before he could apologise, Sara had drawn his other hand to her waist, pressing it into her.

  With a groan, he hauled her towards him, pinning her supple body to his.

  “I wish to kiss you,” he rasped as her hands wound around his shoulders.

  Sara nodded hastily, “Aye-”

  Her words were cut off as his mouth descended onto hers, his need for her too great. She cried out at the feel of their lips connecting, the heat of her mouth opening to his. Fire surged between them as he captured her lips, determined to taste her devastating sweetness.

  Her tongue met his, cautiously at first, until his hands snaked under her hair, cupping her to him. Her kiss took on a more fevered motion as she clutched at him, and he responded in kind, thrusting into her warm mouth.

  Sara’s hands traced over the muscles of his back, her nails digging fervently into him. Every touch seemed to set his skin alight and he ached to reciprocate. Drawing his hands from her hair, they skimmed over her arms before tugging desperately at the clasp of her mantle. Finally it fell free and he grabbed at her once more, his hands sketching her sweet curves.

  Her rounded bottom fit perfectly into his hands and he moulded her to him, pressing his arousal against her. Her frenzied kisses halted and she went rigid in his arms.

  Closing his eyes briefly, Christian sucked in a sharp breath before releasing her. He had ruined his one chance with his desire. Sara gulped as she stared at him, her lips swollen and rosy.

  “Forgive me,” he muttered regretfully.

  ***

  She could feel her chest rising and falling with the after effects of the kiss. The knight had startled her with his passion but she had been more startled by her own reaction. Never before had she met a man who incited such fire within. As a rule, she barely acknowledged men at all, having heard tale of her aunt’s awful husband and having witnessed the brutality of many a man towards their wife. They were all simple minded bullies as far as she was concerned.

  But not this one.

  As he looked at her with such remorse, she found herself keening for his touch once more. Was she really going to offer herself to a man she knew naught of?

  Whatever this strange connection between them was, it was strong, mayhap stronger than her will, and Sara was unsure if she would be able to fight it.

  Drawing herself away, she lowered her eyes, hoping that if she did not look at him then she would not want him. She heard him mutter a curse under his breath as he turned away, slamming his fist into the table, and she considered that mayhap he regretted kissing her.

  Sara quickly brushed aside such a thought. Nay, he wanted this just as much as she. No doubt he thought he had frightened her. And he had. But more frightening was the thought of not knowing where this blaze of passion would lead them.

  Wishing she knew his name, she whispered to him. “Sir knight…”

  He turned quickly, a flash of hope flaring in his eyes.

  As she stepped forwards, he closed the gap between them and bundled her back into his arms. She cried out as their bodies slammed together. Sara knew exactly where this was headed but she was powerless to fight it, feeling as though fate had chosen this path for them.

  Their lips met once more, the fire engulfing them as their tongues clashed with urgency. The knight’s hands worked over her in desperation as hers curled around his neck, tangling in his dark hair, clamping him to her.

  Twirling her around, he hefted her onto the rickety table and settled himself between her thighs. His lips came upon hers again, drugging her with their intensity. Moving his mouth over her jawline, he worked his way down her neck, biting and sucking until she was panting with need.

  Her hands scrabbled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. Wrenching himself away briefly, he tore his shirt over his head before pulling her back into him, his solid manhood pressing unforgivingly into her delicate sex.

  Sara rocked against it as an unbearable ache took root in the pit of her stomach, her movements governed by pure instinct. His chest was broad and muscular, and magnificent. Her hands played over his sleek muscles, following the contours with urgency. The feel of him beneath her hands merely enflamed her desire as his teeth tugged at her lips, coaxing her deeper into his kisses.

  His fingers bit into her arms as he crushed her to him and her nipples ached with need. Yearning for his hands upon them, she arched into him, praying he would understand her. Some part of him must have as a hand skimmed over the skin of her neck, cupping at her jaw before resting on the curve of her breast.

  His kisses slowed as his fingers dipped beneath her gown, brushing cautiously at the hardened nub. Upon hearing her sound of pleasure, he pressed further, cupping her breast until her nipple escaped the confines of her bliaut. His thumb circled the rosy peak, causing her to buck and writhe as his other hand worked desperately at the laces of her gown.

  The gown loosened enough to slip from her shoulders and he thrust it down impatiently, a rumbling groan resounding through the room as he gazed upon her.

  A momentary flicker of shyness made itself known and Sara dipped her eyes as she felt her skin colour.

  He gently tipped her jaw to look up at him and she was startled by the affection in his eyes.

  “You are exquisite.”

  Smiling slightly, she grabbed at his hand, directing it towards her throbbing breasts. Her eyes closed at the feel of his coarse warmth surrounding her tender skin. He rolled her nipple between his fingers before bringing up his left hand to capture her other breast.

  Her head lolled at the assault on her senses and the knight swiftly cradled her head in one hand as the other continued teasing and plucking at her aching breasts. She clamped her legs around him, forcing him closer once more and he bit at her lobe as she ground against him, trying to end the torturous throb between her thighs.

  ***

  Christian could barely control his response to her impatient movements. Her ardent reaction to him was thoroughly unexpected. He had wanted to secure her affections, not seduce her! Yet he was helpless to do aught other than respond to her each and every want. This beautiful maiden had well and truly bewitched him
.

  The feel of her luscious breasts beneath his hand was almost the undoing of him and when she thrust against him his stomach clenched with desire. Unable to restrain himself, he thrust back, her whimpers driving him to distraction.

  Anxious to see her in her entirety, he tugged at her gown, attempting to pull it from underneath her buttocks. She wriggled and little by little the garment came free, finally tangling around her calves. Christian’s eyes dipped to the velvet skin of her thighs, tracing a path to her juncture. His heart pounded in his ears at the sight and he yanked her dress free, taking in every sweet part of her.

  His fingers followed the same route his eyes had, dropping briefly into the wet heat that awaited him. She sobbed in relief and collapsed against his chest as his fingers danced across her sleek folds, toying with her pulsating core before plunging into her depths. He clutched her head to his bare chest, supporting her as she quivered and squirmed while he repeated the movement, each time gliding his fingers in harder and faster.

  Sara tightened around him as she cried out, spasms of pleasure wracking her body. He withdrew his hand slowly, enjoying the feel of her gratification. Unfocused blue eyes met his with a look of wonder engrained into them. He smiled gently before placing a tender kiss to her lips. Sara surprised him by gripping him forcefully to her, her returning kiss filled with need.

  His desire quickly intensified again, the primitive need to make her his taking control once more. The smell of her musk filled his senses as her silken skin flattened against his, and Christian’s erection strained painfully.

  Sara’s hands skimmed over his back before clutching at the laces that lay between them, tugging eagerly at them. Christian groaned as she brushed at his manhood through his chausses and she dropped her hands with a look of uncertainty. Guiding her hand back, he pressed into her palm and she followed the shape of him with open curiosity.