Tamed by a Knight Page 5

  She lifted her hand and slid it inside his rough palm and let him pull her up his body until she rested over him. The view from on top was heady and made her tremble with want. His body was hers to take. However she wanted. Beneath his dark gaze, she stared down at him, marveling at the muscle that flexed at the side of his jaw, at the broad chest that spanned hers and beyond, at the thickly corded thighs that bunched as he held himself in check.

  In their bed, she wanted to be overwhelmed…even frightened…by his need. He thrilled her beyond her imaginings.

  She leaned over him, her mouth an inch above his. “Take me, husband,” she whispered. “Please.”

  His chest rose, and a large, rough hand cupped her shoulder and squeezed. Then he rolled over her, gently tucking her body beneath his until he covered her from head to toe.

  This time he hovered over her. His sweet breath washing over her cheek and lips. “Margaret. How you please me.”

  She smiled, her lips trembling. He’d give her power if she wanted it. She gladly gave him the acquiescence he needed. “Come into me, husband.”

  Their bodies blended, his cock gliding easily into her moist depths. He hooked his elbows beneath her knees and raised them, pushing them upward to tilt her hips to take him deeper still.

  A growling rumble erupted from his chest, and she knew he was quickly becoming lost in their passion as he stroked into her, again and again. His eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened. Her heart skipped a beat at the ferocity of his expression. Reaching upward, she bracketed his cheeks with her palms and urged him downward for a kiss.

  When their lips met, she sighed, and he drew her breath into his mouth. When he pulled back his head, he speared her with a look. “I won’t be gentle.”

  A grin tugged at her lips. “Think you I’m a mouse?”

  He gave a short, fierce shake of his head, clearly beyond words.

  “Take me. I’m yours.”

  Thus released, his thrusts were fast, furious, ravaging. They strained together, his body pummeling hers as her hands raked his back, urging him on. When at last they both erupted in lusty shouts, they shared laughter that reflected their triumph over each other—but they knew they had both won a prize beyond measure.

  *

  Grania took a deep breath, bracing herself for the worst, expecting her young charge to be hastily gathering her belongings for a quick escape. Without knocking, she pushed open the door and entered a bedchamber alight with the morning sun.

  The sight that met her aged eyes had her grinning. The young couple lay naked, a sprawl of tangled limbs, their bodies obviously still joined as they slept.

  The face of Margaret’s new master was a wonder—as handsome as any knight in a fairytale. Margaret’s slackened mouth held the curve of a satisfied smile as her face peeked from beneath one bronzed shoulder.

  Grania quietly shut the door, pleased her plan had worked so well. The bath had eased Margaret’s tension enough for her to shed her maidenly fears. For what young woman could resist such a finely made man?

  With visions of black and russet-haired little hellions scampering around the keep, she decided to wake the kitchen staff to prepare food to break the couple’s fast. They’d need strength to continue their lusty battle for supremacy.

  About Delilah Devlin

  Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and sexy romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred sixty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.

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  If you loved Tamed by the Knight, look for this full-length novel!

  Warrior’s Conquest

  A twenty-first century woman transported to medieval times is forced to accept the protection of a beast of a sexy warlord as they struggle to survive in the middle of a war-torn land….

  With proportions that would make Xena weep, Jacqueline Frazier despairs of ever finding a lover she can’t intimidate. Until the day she ignores a warning regarding use of a family heirloom, and finds herself swept off her feet by a knight in not so shining armor, back to the twelfth century. Forced to accept the protection of an overbearing, beast of a man, Rufus of Rathburn, Jacq struggles to find her place in the past while seeking a way back to the future. In the meantime, she aids Rufus’s war cause with a little 21st century ingenuity, shaking up the warlord with lessons in bomb-making, guerilla tactics, and the joys of sex.

  At first unwilling, and ungrateful, Rufus begins to see merit in Jacq’s odd ways. Through Jacq’s eccentricities and willfulness, Rufus learns she is a woman to be reckoned with, as well as a lusty handful in bed. Will his admiration of her cunning, strength, and uninhibited sexuality grow into a love that breaks the barriers of time? And will their love be strong enough for Jacq to plot a different future in the past?

  Read an excerpt…

  The knight left her standing in the tent. With her hands untied.

  As the tent flap fell into place, Jacq’s breath caught. Her first thoughts were of escape, but where would she go? She couldn’t run back home. Her home was over eight hundred years and an ocean away. If she escaped this group of soldiers, what other dangers would she find?

  What was that saying? Better the devil you know…

  Jacq stomped her foot in the dirt. She hated that she needed protection. Especially his! Could she stand to take orders from the brute? And what if he made good on his threat to take her whenever he wanted?

  A thrill of something not exactly dread trembled down her spine. Despite his rugged scars, the arrogant bastard was possibly the most attractive man Jacq had met in either the twelfth or the twenty-first centuries.

  Of course, this realization had no bearing on her decision to stay with Lord Rathburn until she had a better plan. Resigned to being hopelessly stuck for now, she recognized a more immediate concern. Where, in this godforsaken hell, was the nearest port-o-potty?

  She tossed the tent flap to the side and stepped out to survey her surroundings. Good, trees and bushes were close by. Her father had taken her camping and hiking in fairly primitive areas. She was not a stranger to making a quick field latrine. Thanks, Dad, for giving me the training I’d need to survive this.

  The thought of her dad brought her close to tears. He needed her as much as she needed him. Sometimes, he was forgetful. Would he remember his appointment with the oncologist? Jacq wished she could be with him. This appointment was a milestone. Five years. Five years since he’d finished chemotherapy. The doctor told him if he was cancer-free after five years, he stood a good chance of living a long, healthy life.

  The tough guy wasn’t one for open displays of emotions, nonetheless, they shared a close relationship. Her loss would be a blow to him after having already lost his wife and gone through hell with cancer. Now, he’d be alone.

  Oh, Dad, I wish I could talk to you and let you know I’m okay…scared, but okay.

  The trip to the bushes was accomplished with minimum fuss. Not knowing where else to go, she returned to the tent, pulling aside the flap to step in. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Lord Rufus sitting on a stool, stark naked!

  Worse, a scantily clad woman bathed him like a baby. Well, not quite. Her hands were lingering near very manly territory.

  Disappointment knifed through Jacq, stealing her breath. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to barge in during your bath…” Jacq glanced at the rag in the other woman’s hand. “Or, what
ever.” She turned and was halfway through the flap door when his voice halted her.

  “Woman, you will stay.”

  “That’s all right. I can come back later.” Jacq kept her back to him. Why should I care who he gets his rocks off with?

  “Don’t argue, you will stay. I command it.”

  Kinky bastard! Does he want me to watch? Knowing she really didn’t have a choice, she let the flap fall back in place. “Okay, okay, don’t get your underwear in a twist.” She eased her way around the inside wall of the tent, gaze averted from the naked hulk who sat seemingly unaffected by the two women—as if being naked around women were an everyday occurrence.

  Jacq shook her head. It probably was an everyday occurrence for Lord Rathburn. After all, this was the twelfth century—women were expected to bathe the men. Women were possessions and lower on the list of importance than bird plop.

  I think I’ve died and gone to Hell. How was a woman raised in the twenty-first century with all the associated rights and privileges to fit into twelfth-century society? She was a man’s equal, not his servant.

  Discretion is the better part of valor. She repeated the thought over and over in her head. Her father taught her to respect the cultures of others, no matter how foreign. Some backward countries in the twenty-first century still expected women to be subservient and put up with their males’ autocratic ways. Jacq had gotten heartburn thinking about those countries then. The practice was bound to give her an ulcer now.

  She dropped onto the cot at the back of the tent and studied her shoes. But, try as she might, she couldn’t keep her gaze averted from the incredible male sitting only a few feet away. The slosh of the water teased her mind and made her pulse leap. She could only imagine how all that muscle would look, gleaming wet. When she thought he wasn’t looking, she stole a glance from beneath her lashes.

  Lord have mercy! They didn’t make ’em like that anymore. His shoulders were broad and the muscles of his arms looked like they’d been carved in oak.

  Must be all that sword swinging. Her breaths came faster as she lowered her gaze.

  His gleaming chest was covered with a mat of curly black hair that narrowed to a line extending down his washboard stomach to…

  No, she did not just look! Jacq’s eyes widened, and her gaze slowly lifted to Lord Rathburn’s.

  The arrogant jerk looked straight at her, and he had the audacity to smile.

  Face burning, Jacq turned her head to stare at the walls of the tent, her breath coming now in shallow gasps. Before she did something stupid, like hyperventilate, she turned her back to the other two occupants of the tent. Irritation burned through her veins, followed closely by a tinge of feline satisfaction.

  Apparently, he had not been unaffected by her perusal.

  Jacq envisioned that part of him standing at attention during her examination of his…attributes. His thick shaft rose from a dark nest of hair, ruddier than the rest of his skin, with blue veins standing in stark relief against his erection. She had never considered herself a prude. Yet, she was unnerved being in the same tent with a naked, aroused man while another woman performed such an intimate act.

  Her anger spiked a little higher. Why had he insisted she stay? Had he no modesty? Her gaze slid sideways.

  The other woman ran the washcloth across Lord Rathburn’s chest and down his torso, smiling seductively and leaning her breasts close to his face.

  Jacq’s blood warmed, increasing in intensity to a low boil. The woman flaunted herself like a floozy, enticing him. Was she seducing him right in front of her? As far as Jacq was concerned the other woman could have him, and more power to her. But, puh-lease, couldn’t she at least wait until they were alone?

  She stole another glance and found herself wondering what all that muscle would feel like beneath her palms. He sported a six-pack any twenty-first-century weightlifter would envy.

  Oh, Jacq told herself she wasn’t lusting after the man, she was just…curious. She prided herself on her ability to remain distant from the opposite sex and unaffected by cravings of the flesh. In her experience with men, she had yet to meet one equal to her own physical strength and abilities, except her father.

  Which would account for her nonexistent sex life.

  Jacq rolled her eyes. Why the hell was she thinking about sex while sitting in a tent with another woman and a naked warrior? She’d never been into threesomes, and this tent, in this century, was no place to start having such thoughts. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered beneath her breath.

  The woman washed lower on his torso, and Jacq kept tabs. She gave up trying to fool herself she wasn’t curious about how far this seduction would go. She also gave up any attempts to harness her own arousal. Her nipples drew into tight, aching points, her pussy swelled, and the crotch of her panties grew damp.

  A triumphant smile edged across the washerwoman’s face as she reached for his erect penis. Before she could wrap her fingers around it, his hand shot out, stopping her before she snagged her target.

  Or, so Jacq thought…

  Until he guided the woman’s hand along his shaft, slowly, smoothing up and down.

  “You’ve a speck of dirt here, milord,” the woman murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

  “Mustn’t miss a spot,” he said, a small smile curving his lips.

  The woman knelt before him, both hands now clasping his cock, working soapy fingers up and down, up and down. “Better?” she purred.

  Jacq’s breath caught and held as the woman moved her face nearer and stuck out her tongue to capture a glistening pearlescent drop of pre-ejaculate from the tip of his cock.

  A protest gurgled inside Jacq’s throat, drawing Lord Rufus’s gaze.

  “Enough!” He dug his fingers through the woman’s hair and pushed her away. “Leave me.”

  Startled by the barked command, Jacq jumped up from her cot and made for the door.

  “Not you…her.” His pointed finger indicated the washerwoman, not Jacq.

  Darn.

  The woman shot an angry glance at Jacq, gathered her skirts, and marched for the exit.

  Watching the other woman stalk out of the tent, Jacq couldn’t help feeling a little victorious.

  “You will dry me.”

  Rathburn’s voice was hard and left no room for misinterpretation. “I’ll what?” Jacq’s eyes widened, the wind completely sucked from her victory sails.

  “You heard me, woman. Dry me.” His brow rose in an arrogant arc. “You will serve me. And remember, I have no patience with those who refuse my direction.”

  Jacq still didn’t move. She felt frozen to the spot. Did he really expect her to touch him…there? Perhaps complete the act the woman had begun?

  “Do it, now.” His voice lashed out like a whip.

  With a start, Jacq found her body responding to the command like an automaton. She took two steps in his direction before her brain engaged, and she thought about what she was about to do.

  No way!

  She grabbed a dry square of material she assumed was the towel and tossed it at his face.

  The towel landed against his chest then fell to the floor. He crossed both arms over his upper body.

  Jacq recognized his “this can take all night, if you want it to” expression. Heart hammering against her ribcage, she tried to brazen it out. “Let’s get this straight, I am not one of your camp followers to be ordered about. You’re a big boy, do it yourself!”

  Silence followed as Lord Rathburn’s face hardened into granite. He bent to reach for the towel, and then rose from his seat to stand towering over her six feet of self-righteous female flesh.

  Jacq had to tip back her head to follow his ascent and maintain eye contact. She refused to back down, despite all that shiny wet skin standing so close she could count the freckles dotting the tops of his shoulders.

  “You will do as I bid, or I will withdraw my protection. My soldiers have been long without a woman.”


  His low, dangerous voice was a glistening dagger, beautiful but deadly, slicing the air with each word. He was magnificent, naked with shimmering drops of water sliding down his body and fire blazing from his dark eyes.

  The proximity to his powerful muscles had an alarming effect on Jacq’s mental capacity and natural body functions. Breathing—which she had always taken for granted—was something she had to remind herself to do. Her lack of control in this situation was frightening. Before she completely lost her mind, she placed the tip of one finger against his solid chest and pushed. “Back off!”

  When her words came out, they were little more than a wheeze. Too late, she remembered it took air in the lungs to blast out a command. With the required deep breath, her finger still on the unmoving chest, she opened her mouth to repeat her demand.

  An iron grip clenched around her raised hand, yanking it down to her side. As her other hand reached up to block against the attack, it too was pulled down to her side. Her attempt to put distance between them had backfired. Now standing toe to toe, she could feel the heat of his body burning through the velvet of her dress and the long ridge of his cock pressing against her belly.

  With a gulp, she dared to look up into his face. As her head tipped back, she saw his descend. Her jaw dropped in surprise. What the hell?

  His lips claimed hers, sliding, nibbling at her lips. Jacq gasped.

  Rufus stabbed inside her mouth.

  Her hands pinned to her sides and her mouth likewise occupied, Jacq’s body warred with her mind.

  Fire licked at her skin, her blood heated, searing a path throughout her body in a way she’d never experienced. His impact on her senses alternated between energizing her like an adrenaline rush and sapping all of her strength, leaving her as limp as an overcooked noodle.