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CONTENTS
Dedication
About the Author
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To Love a Knight
Copyright © June 2008, E. Jamie
Cover art by Amira Press © June 2008
Amira Press, LLC
Baltimore, MD 21216
www.amirapress.com
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.
Dedication
To Sonia, Ruthie, Becky and the girls at FL
and A/S for their voracious encouragement.
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She had found him a month ago. He lay nearly frozen in the snow, wounded. She had known who he was. Everyone knew who he was. Sir Nikolas, one of the bravest knights in the king's army. Delia always thought he was the handsomest. Thick blond hair, piercing blue eyes. Strong, hard muscles. She'd seen him in numerous tournaments, and he always winked at her whenever he spotted her in the audience.
She had been on her way home from her work in her aunt's seamstress shop when she'd come upon his unconscious body blocking her path. Horrified, she had pushed her horse to a run to get her father, and together, they brought Nikolas to the house where her mother, a medicine woman some thought of as a witch, tended to him.
For weeks he burned with fever, the wound festering and becoming infected. Delia sat by his side, helping her mother, praying that God would save him. Finally, one morning, she awoke by his bedside to find his fever had broken. She had wept with relief.
Her parents had left her alone this day. They were confident her virtue wasn't in any danger because poor Nikolas had yet to regain his energy. He was asleep when Delia walked in to his bedroom to change the dressing on his chest.
Delia liked when he was asleep because she could just stare at the beautiful muscles of his body without him knowing. A few times, she had run her fingers along the smooth tanned chest giddy over the unfamiliar territory of a man's body. She'd even dared a few peeks “there” when her mother was out of the room. It stood thick and hard sometimes, usually when she had run her fingers along his chest and even lower. Other times, it lay soft against his thigh. Thick and long, even when dormant.
She felt a strange tingling between her legs when she saw it and had to resist the urge to touch it. That was evil. A lady would never do that, but she found her fingers itching to hold the length in her hand, wondering what it would feel like. She knew this was what made babies. A man put it inside you, and you had a baby.
Delia saw the familiar bulge beneath the blanket as she tightened the bandages around his chest. He groaned when her fingers brushed his rib cage. She waited until she heard his breathing even out. Carefully she pushed the blanket down off his hips and looked at it. Thick again it stood amid a nest of fair curls. Delia bit her lip. Who would know if she touched it, just once?
She was eighteen years old. Girls younger than her were already married and knew what baby-making was like. Surely you were allowed to touch it if you were married. Delia pushed aside the reminder that Sir Nikolas was not her husband. Would never be her husband. She was a blacksmith's daughter. He was a knight in the king's court. He would surely want someone of higher status than her. Still, what harm would it do to pretend he was her husband while he slept? No one would have to know.
His member emanated soft warmth as Delia's fingers inched toward it. At the first touch of her finger at the base, she gasped. She glanced up quickly to make sure Nikolas was still asleep. Safe. She let her fingers curl around the base. The crisp hair tickled her knuckles. She ran her fingers slowly up along the steel-like length. Warm, hard and like tanned leather.
Nikolas groaned, and Delia jerked her fingers away in horror. She had hurt him! Oh God! What was she doing? She hadn't realized it would hurt him. When she looked up to his face, Nikolas had his eyes locked on hers.
"Touch me again, sweetheart,” he begged and licked his dry lips.
Terrified, Delia fled from the room.
* * * *
Delia had avoided him all morning. Now she had no choice. She had to go back into the room to feed him his lunch. Feeling her face heat in embarrassment, she pleaded, “God, help me endure this.” She walked toward the door and slowly pushed it open. She was greeted with a small moan. Worried, she stepped into the room, and her heart stopped.
The blanket was down around Nikolas's thighs. His hand was wrapped around his shaft, now swollen, and his fingers were moving up and down in a short, fast rhythm. His eyes were half open. They opened all the way when he saw that she was rooted in place, carrying a tray of food, watching him.
He spoke slowly, breathless. “Your name is Delia, is it not? That's what the older woman called you?"
Delia could only stare and nod.
"Come here, Delia.” He extended his free hand out toward her.
Her eyes locked with his. She'd never seen that look before. How could she describe it as anything but hunger? Raw, naked hunger. She guessed this was what Father McGuinley spoke of in church when he used the word lust. Now Delia truly knew what it meant. She saw it in his eyes and felt it in her blood. She felt a strange dampness in her underclothes and feared she must've wet herself. Punishment because she was evil, of course. She shook her head in refusal of him.
"Put the tray down and come here. Please,” Nikolas begged.
Her feet moved with a will of their own.
"Sit,” he said and, licking his lips, patted the bed. He still held his length in his hand, but his movements had stilled. “See this, Delia? This is because of you,” he said indicating his swollen shaft.
"Well, w-what a-are you doing?” she asked, her mouth dry.
"Easing my ache, love. I think of you and I ache."
She flushed. “Me?"
"Oh yes, my sweet girl. I ache for you. You want to feel it?"
She leaped to her feet. “No! I couldn't!"
"Why not, sweetheart? I know you want to."
"It's evil to touch you,” she replied, shaking.
"Evil? No, sweet Delia. It is beautiful and wonderful. Let me show you, love. Let me show you how beautiful it can be,” he replied.
His quiet voice beckoned her, made her heart race, and suddenly she felt the need to touch him. Her fingers twitched with the primal want racing through her blood. She sat back down beside him.
Nikolas took her hand and placed her fingers on his cock. “Does that feel evil?"
"You feel so warm,” Delia replied. She gave a small squeeze around the thick shaft, and Nikolas moaned. She was about to jerk back her hand, afraid she had hurt him again when he held her fingers in place.
"No, don't remove them,” he pleaded. His eyes closed, and his neck arched, pressing his head back into the pillow.
"But ... but you're hurt. I'm sorry I didn't know,” she replied, feeling tears of shame spring to her eyes.
"You didn't hurt me. I moaned because it felt so very good."
"Really?” she asked in surprise.
"Yes, now move your hand with mine. Up and ... oh, God ... up and down ... ahhhh ... yes ... sweet, Delia ... just like that."
Delia watched the utter bliss on his face as their hands moved together on his shaft. She didn't think it was possible, but the thing swelled becoming thicker in her hand the faster they moved. The thick member was slippery now because droplets of a strange liquid were leaking out of the top. Nikolas's moans grew louder, and Delia felt an odd sort of pride that she was making him moan like that. Without realizing when he had done it, Delia noticed his hand wasn't with her any more but bunched in the sheets. She kept the rhythm he had taught her. “Am I doing this right?” Delia asked, watching him buck his hips upward while his eyes closed in fierce pleasure.
"Sweet God, yes!” he cried out. “Don't stop, my love. Don't ever stop,” Nikolas begged. “Now faster, sweet Delia. Move your ... ahhhhh ... faster, yes...” He moaned. She tightened her fingers and stroked him rapidly. “Now! Oh God, yes. Now. Oh now!"
Delia looked down at him confused. Now what? Within seconds, she knew. Thick streams of liquid burst forth from the top of the hard member and drizzled down over her hand. Delia watched the spurting, fascinated. What on earth was this? What had happened? Nikolas continued to buck and growl beneath her hand until the spurting stopped, and he lay limp against the sheets, his shaft softening in her hand even as she still held it. Delia watched Nikolas breathing heavily, the sound filling the room. “What is this?” she asked, referring to the stickiness on her fingers.
Nikolas smiled at her and handed her a wet towel by the basin of water at the side of the bed. “That's my seed, love."
"You mean this is what makes the babies?” she asked fearfully rubbing her hands with the towel.
Nikolas laughed at her. “You can't get with child if it's on your fingers. It has to enter your body."
She blushed knowing how that happened. She shook her head. “I will surely burn in hell for what I've done today."
"I'm sure if you go to confession, Father McGuinely will absolve you. Isn't that how it works?” Nikolas asked, teasing her.
She bit her lip and fought her own smile. “The problem is, I'm not the least bit sorry. That makes me a wanton woman, doesn't it?"
"No. It makes you a desirable, curious woman."
"You find me desirable?” Delia asked wide-eyed.
"Oh, yes. Let me show you how much. Will you, darling?"
Delia trembled with nervousness and indecision. Nikolas's hands went to her face, his lips brushed hers, and then, once her lips parted, he was more insistent. His tongue caressed hers, and she darted back, shocked. “What was that? You ... you put your tongue in my mouth."
"That's how men and women kiss each other."
"Oh,” she said, trying to stop the butterflies in her stomach.
"Did you like it?"
She nodded slowly. “I believe I did."
Nikolas smiled at her and kissed her again, taking his time. Slowly, leisurely, he made love to her mouth. His hands went up along her rib cage to rest under the curves of her breasts through the material of her dress.
Delia gave a soft moan and arched slightly against him.
"Delia, let me touch you. Let me touch your sweet, soft skin,” Nikolas begged against her mouth.
"Yes,” she agreed.
Nikolas undid the buttons of her dress and pulled the top half down around her waist. “If there's anything you don't like, let me know,” he told her.
Delia could only nod, unable to form the words with her mouth. This fire raging through her blood was stealing all coherent thought. His fingers grazed her nipples gently, and Delia gasped at the wonderful feelings. “Oh my,” she moaned when his hands cupped her breasts.
"Like silk,” he said, lowering his mouth to capture one between his lips.
Delia cried out at the suckling motions he made. She had no idea men did this. It was surely only for nursing babies, but dear Lord, how it felt. She wound her fingers through his gloriously thick golden hair. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, he stopped.
"Stand up, love,” Nikolas instructed.
Delia's eyes never left his as she stood up in front of him. Odd, here she was half naked in front of him, and she felt no shame.
"Beautiful.” His fingers traveled down her waist, slid along her hips to her back, and undid the buttons that kept her skirt up. It fell around her feet. Her underclothes followed. Now she was fully exposed to him.
"By Christ, you look like an angel,” he whispered. His hands moved to her thighs and pulled her toward him. “Now lay with me."
Without protest, Delia stretched herself out on the bed beside him and looked up at his face, trusting him.
He lowered his mouth to hers again and let his hands roam free on her silken curves. “Touch me, sweetheart. Touch me,” Nikolas urged her before his mouth returned to devour her.
Delia ran her fingers along his chest down toward his stomach. She froze when she felt his hand slip through her soft curls to touch her between her legs.
"It's all right, sweetheart. Does it feel good?” Nikolas asked. He stroked her gently.
Her hips rolled slightly. “Yes,” she whispered, uncertainty making her voice quivering.
"I will please you now sweet love, as you did to me,” he explained. His finger flicked the sensitive nub once.
"Oh God!” Delia moaned arching. Never had she felt anything like this.
"It's only the beginning, love. I promise."
"Oh, please do that again,” she begged. He kissed her and then stroked the small nub until her folds were damp with desire and she was shaking and rolling her hips with need. Delia was urging him on with her hips to end this sweet torture, and yet, she never wanted to stop. One finger continued to stroke her soaked folds when another finger slipped inside of her. Delia's eyes flew open.
"This will feel good, my sweet. I promise,” Nikolas vowed.
Delia blinked, shocked by the ferocity with which her soft muscles clamped around his finger.
"Just relax, sweetheart.” He eased his finger in and out in a gentle rhythm while his other finger rubbed at her wet folds, driving her higher and higher.
Delia bit her lip and moaned fearfully. “Oh my. Oh my God.” Her body was tightening deep in her stomach. In her center, an odd sensation spread like a coil ready to spring. “Oh, Nikolas, something's wrong.... Oh, you should ... Oh, stop ... Oh, I think I'm about ... to die."
"It's all right love, trust me. Let it take you, love. Enjoy it.” He moved his finger faster in and out of her core while he continued to stroke her.
He gave her a soft kiss on the lips and drove his finger in harder. Delia cried out as her entire being seemed to come apart. Her head fell back, her black hair spilling down while her slim body arched upward off the bed. She gripped the sheets, digging her head into the pillow, and she cried out his name as her first release swept through her.
When its force receded Delia lay against the mattress, breathless. She opened her blue eyes and gave him a look of wonder. “That was beautiful. I thought I touched heaven,” she murmured blissfully.
He smiled and kissed her swollen mouth. “I wanted to give you the pleasure you gave me,” Nikolas told her.
"Can we do the other thing now?” Delia asked, while exquisite aftershocks from her orgasm surged through her body.
Nikolas groaned. “Are you certain, love?” He asked, positioning himself above her. “It will hurt at first."
"I know. I trust you. Just tell me what to do,” Delia said, running her fingers through his hair.
He lifted her knees slightly. “Follow my lead, love.” He placed his shaft at her entrance, rubbing the head against the opening at first, not pushing in yet.
Delia lifted her mouth and kissed him, boldly pushing her tongue into his mouth. Rolling her hips against his length, she looked up into the hot sapphire of his eyes, shivering at the feel of his swollen head rubbing her lips. She felt so slick there, so wet, and her core was in spasm, greedy, wanting more of him. “Come into my body now, Nikolas,” she urged bracing herself for the pain.
Slowly, the pain began to recede, and Delia shifted beneath him. “I'm all right now,” she assured him.
Nikolas smiled and kissed her damp forehead. “Move with me,” he murmured, placing one hand on her hip to guide her movements. He began to thrust steadily but slowly until she met his rhythm.
"Oh Lord,” she sighed as he filled her. The sting of pain was still there but that other feeling she had experienced was returning with much more power.
"Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered and quickened his pace inside of her.
His mouth was at her neck nibbling, sucking at her pulse. She dug the heels of her feet into his lower back. She ran her fingers along the strong muscles of his back and arched her neck once she felt the familiar tightening begin. She felt full, filled, owned while the delicious invasion continued. Each pass of his shaft inside of her created an exquisite friction. He was moaning her name as she felt him thicken deep inside her, his thrusts becoming faster and uneven. “Sweet Lord ... Oh, Nikolas ... Oh my ... “She cried out, feeling her body stiffened and the delicious release over take her once again.
She bucked beneath him. Her orgasm raced through her and her convulsing muscles tightened around him. Nikolas gripped her hips roughly and spilled himself inside her in thick hot spurts that stung her tender flesh. Sated, exhausted, and smiling, they fell against the bed.
"Oh that was beautiful,” Delia said in awe. She kissed him passionately, still panting. “Thank you."
"It was my pleasure, sweet Delia,” Nikolas replied. When he could manage it, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. He gently moved a few strands of damp hair from her forehead. “I should have been more careful."
"The pain is hardly noticeable any more, I promise.” She ran her fingers along the side of his face, touched by his sweetness.
"No. I spilled my seed inside of you. That was foolish of me.” He shook his head. “I'm not a green boy. I should have known better."
Strawberry Wine
Till Death Do Us Part
To Love a Knight