Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (60 page)

Robert dished her out some of the aromatic stew into
a wooden camp bowl, and handed to her along with a spoon carved out
of bone. “Drink the broth first, then eat the meat and vegetables,”
he instructed her. “Tastes best that way. But be careful, it’s
still very hot. Though I like my stew best when it scalds the
tongue.”

Sabina sucked in her breath. All this talk of
spices, heat, and burning wasn’t helping matters. Feelings of love
(or lust) with Robert was a forbidden, hopeless thing—something
best ignored, suppressed, denied altogether. But however
irrational, silly, or downright impossible her feelings might be,
she couldn’t deny the way she felt.

Sabina held the stew bowl up to her mouth. Clouds of
steam arose from its surface, made her cheeks flush from the heat,
her vision blurry. She took a sip. The exotic flavors of the spices
filled her entire being, evoked taste sensations she’d never
experienced before after eating a diet of nothing but bland mutton,
turnips and brown bread her entire life. The scorching-hot stew
scalded her tongue, but the aromatic saffron, tangy coriander and
pepper made it all worth it. She gulped down the rest of the soup,
relishing every drop.

“Slow down,” Robert said, patting her softly on the
elbow. “Food like this is meant to be savored, not inhaled. Here,
have some more broth.” He ladled it out some more over her cuts of
tender salt pork and the boiled turnips. This time she followed his
instructions and sipped the broth slowly, savoring it the way she
would a fine vintage of wine. The flavors filled her mouth, her
nostrils, her entire body. She finished the broth, then took a bite
of the slow-cooked meat. The spices exploded in her mouth, nearly
knocking her flat.

Eating Robert’s spiced stew was truly a sensual
experience. Her entire being became enveloped in the priceless
aromas of saffron, of pepper—of a mystical, smoke-filled temple in
the East. Sabina could almost see the towering minarets she’d read
about in her father’s library, could almost hear the call to prayer
from the Moslem priests and the thumping, exotic music of the
veiled dancing women of the sultan’s harem. . . .

The world went blurry, then black. The next thing
Sabina knew, Robert was standing over her, fanning her with a large
piece of leather from his saddlebag. “Your Ladyship, are you all
right? Your Ladyship? Can you hear me?” He leaned forward, placed a
hand softly on her forehead. “You’re burning up. Have you taken
ill? Do you have a fever?”

She hadn’t taken ill, no. But
she
did
have a
fever. Of sorts.

“Sabina?” Robert’s voice came to her as though
through a fog. Her vision was still dark and cloudy, but Robert’s
face stood out against the background. “Sabina, answer me. Please,
milady.”

He’d called her by her given name for the first
time—no titles, no polite formal means of address this time. Just
her given name, which no one outside of her immediate family had
ever called her before. “I’m all right, Robert,” she said softly.
“Just—a little out of breath, is all.”

She felt a cool cloth pressed onto her forehead.
“You fainted, milady,” Robert whispered. His face was close now,
ever so close. “I know that tasting the spices of the East for the
first time can be quite an experience, but I never saw anyone
actually faint from it before. Methinks that’s a tale for the bards
and troubadours to sing about.”

“That’s not the only thing for the bards’ and
troubadours’ songs,” was Sabina’s breathless reply. And without
even thinking, she reached up, pulled Robert down to her, and
kissed him full on the lips.

It was the first time Sabina had ever kissed anyone,
but it came as naturally to her as breathing. Robert was stunned at
first, but soon he was kissing her back with just as much passion
as she gave him. Their lips met, their tongues touched and danced.
Robert pressed his whole body hard against her, pulling her tighter
and tighter into his arms. Sabina felt the growing bulge of his
manhood hard against her thigh. She knew nothing of what happened
intimately between men and women—like most women of her station,
she had never been taught anything of the sort—and yet when she
felt Robert hard against her body, she instantly knew what it
meant, and what was about to happen.

Or what might not happen after all.

All at once, Robert pulled himself away from her. He
got up, walked to the far side of the rock outcropping, and turned
his back on her. “We cannot do this, Your Ladyship.”

Your Ladyship
. So they were back to titles, back to formalities. It cut
Sabina to the bone. “But why?”

He glanced back over his shoulder at her, and shook
his head. “Surely you understand why, Your Ladyship. You are not
mine to have. Indeed, I risk my very life and yours if we ever
touch. Lord Reginald is a jealous man with a very short
temper.”

“I don’t care,” Sabina said. “I’d rather die than
marry him anyway.”

Robert sighed and stared down at the ground. “You
say that now, milady. But you are but a naïve and ignorant girl.
What do you know of what really happens between men and
women?Nothing, I am sure. And I have nothing at all to offer you. I
have but a poor estate in Normandy with rocky soil and half-dead
vineyards that brings in almost nothing in income. My mercenary
wages go to support my mother and sisters, and what little is left
maintains me, though not at all in style. With me you would have
nothing but poverty and heartbreak—if we escaped with our lives at
all. At least with Lord Reginald you would have safety and
security.”

“With Lord Reginald I would have misery and hell,”
Sabina retorted. “I’d rather have a few moments of bliss with you
than a lifetime of misery with him.”

“You know not what you say, Your Ladyship. What you
ask is impossible. And it makes no sense. I am your captor, after
all, and you my prisoner. And even if you weren’t already betrothed
elsewhere, we are ill-suited to one another. We cannot even have a
conversation without it turning into an argument.”

“Then we shall spend our time doing something other
than making conversation,” was Sabina’s sultry reply. With that,
she shocked even herself.

Robert’s face reddened. “You are a little devil,
Your Ladyship. You realize that, don’t you?”

“I never did before now.”

“Your Ladyship, if we go forward with this, we must
both understand the consequences. We might have a few moments of
bliss, ‘tis true, but it will surely end with both our deaths,
unless we manage to flee England for foreign shores. And even then,
my employer’s wealth and influence knows no bounds. He could send
his other mercenaries and bounty hunters after us—I am but one of
many that serve him. We wouldn’t be safe anywhere.”

“I don’t care.”

Robert shook his head. “That’s not even the worst
part, Your Ladyship. I fear you would never see your father or
beloved Angwyld again. Are you prepared to take that risk too,
milady?”

Sabina pondered this a moment. Could she make such a
great sacrifice for just a few short days—or even hours—of Robert’s
touch? She wasn’t even sure what lying with him, touching him
intimately would be like, after all. Would it be worth it? She had
no knowledge of such things, even if the growing urges rising in
her body seemed to indicate otherwise. And what of her father? At
one level Sabina felt betrayed by her beloved sole surviving
parent, who had effectively sold her in exchange for his own lands
and title, after all. But at another level, Sabina understood that
her father had been left with no choice. Still, that didn’t mean
she always had to keep herself shackled to other men’s plans for
her life. Sabina knew in her heart that she had the right to shape
her own destiny, even if the laws of England didn’t recognize
it.

She could choose to be chattel, or she could choose
to be a woman. Once she put it in those terms, it was an easy
choice to make.

“I choose to be with you, Robert. Whatever the
consequences may be.”

Robert smiled, lighting up his whole face. “So be
it, milady. I only hope you won’t live to regret your decision.
With any luck, we’ll both be dead by morning.”

Chapter
8

Robert took Sabina by the hand and led her over to
his bedroll. The fire had died down to coals. The stewpot sat upon
them, its remaining contents simmering slowly, filling the air with
more of the exotic scent of spices. Robert lit a tallow candle and
placed it in a metal bowl. Its flickering light reflected on the
stone outcroppings, making the whole campsite into a magical,
otherworldly place. The candlelight also reflected in Robert’s gray
eyes, turning them into deep whirlpools that drew her ever inward.
The evening song of a nightingale rang out somewhere in the
distance as a soft rain fell onto the leaves of the forest, both
sounds mixing into perfect music for them to love by. They were
safe and warm by the dying fire in their open cave shelter, the
sounds of the night growing around them, enveloping the both of
them with their perfect peace.

Sabina could think of no better time or place for
her to lay down her virtue.

Robert softly caressed Sabina’s cheek. “You’re
absolutely sure about this, milady? You need only say the word, and
we will stop.”

“Never stop,” she whispered. “I want this. I don’t
know exactly why, just that I do. It doesn’t seem to make a lot of
sense.”

“Matters of the heart never do,” Robert whispered
back. “Love is something not of this world, milady, guided only by
God Himself. Mere mortals shall never understand it. Which is why
the bards and poets spend their lives trying to explain it to us.”
With that, he kissed her softly. It took her a moment to kiss him
back, such were the many thoughts that raced through her mind. What
was she doing? Had she gone mad? Was she really willing to risk
everything she had—land, title, her good name, her father’s good
name, Robert’s life—even her own—just for this?

Yes, she was. The only thing that mattered was
feeling Robert’s touch, his kiss, every part of what he and his
body had to offer her. Nothing else.

Sabina kissed Robert back hard. She opened her mouth
upon his, pushed her tongue deep into his mouth, explored and
probed. Her hands instinctively fell to the lacings of her tunic
and shift, loosened them, ripped her bodice open so her breasts
were bare for Robert to place his mouth upon. He followed her lead,
covering her bosom with kisses. He took first her left globe into
his hand and gently squeezed it, then her right. He murmured
something in French against her cleavage, then covered it in
kisses. He pressed her downward and back until she was on her
knees, leaning towards the ground. She let her instincts take over
and soon she was flat on her back, her legs splayed wide, her hips
raised slightly off the mossy ground.

Robert joined her on the cave floor, pressing his
body into the space between her legs. The bulge in his breeches
pressed against Sabina’s most sensitive spot, urging her to open
herself up even further. Just as she was about to reach down and
lift her skirts, Robert did the favor for her. He eased up her
surcoat and overgown first, then her shift. Like most pure,
unmarried women, she wore nothing underneath—and her spicy feminine
scent filled the air as she exposed herself to the world for the
first time.

Sabina only had an inkling of what might come next.
But Robert gave her the answer before she even had a chance to ask
the question. He reached between her legs and found her secret
softness, and began to softly fondle her there. She was as soft and
velvety as a wet rose, and as Robert’s nimble fingers passed over
her most delicate and sensitive parts, her whole being began to
tense and vibrate—as if to sing like a lyre string plucked by a
bard’s skilled hand. Instinctively she opened herself up to him
even further, drew him downward and ever closer, just as her own
body raised itself up to meet him.

Tension began to spread throughout Sabina’s body,
harder and thicker and deeper until her toes curled, her fists
clenched, and her head craned backward on her neck until her crown
met the stone floor of the cave. Little animal sounds began to
escape her mouth—she heard them as if from far away. She knew that
as blissful as what her body felt now was, there was still
something more to come—something that would complete her in a way
that nothing ever had before. She didn’t exactly know what that
something was, only that she needed it to happen, happen right
now.

Again, Robert read her mind, gave her the answer
before she could even ask the question. He moaned and grunted
against her neck, his lips and mouth still sucking and biting her
neck, her chest, her bosom. His hands strayed away from her damp
petals for the briefest of moments, and she heard a frantic
rearranging of rough wool and thick linen as he pulled his manhood
from his breeches and loincloth. And then, in an instant that
shattered both of their worlds, Robert plowed hard and fast inside
Sabina’s depths.

They rode a wave of ecstasy together, climbing an
invisible mountain higher and higher until they both reached the
pinnacle. Then, their bodies inextricably joined, they jumped off
at the same time, their bodies in blissful freefall for what seemed
like an eternity.

The whole world went dark then. Whether they simply
dozed for a few moments or slept hard for hours, Sabina never knew.
But when she awoke, she felt as if she’d been gone from the world a
thousand years, only to be born again as soft and innocent as a new
babe in arms.

Robert still lay atop her, and their bodies were
still joined. She felt him hard and thick inside her; it was as if
they’d only just begun. “Is it always like this?” she murmured into
his ear.