Sins of the Knight
Newly widowed heiress Elena de Burgh doesn’t want another abusive husband. Yet her coveted freedom is to be short-lived—the king has pledged her to a man much worse than the last. Elena knows her duty is to her king and her future lord, but erotic fantasies of having Sir Stephen de Verre in her bed chip away at her resolve to remain chaste.
Stephen has come to Elena’s castle to accompany her to court, where she will be betrothed to a powerful border lord. Stephen has always had strong feelings for Elena, but to touch her will be a betrayal of the oath of fealty he has made to his king.
Torn between loyalty, duty, honor and love, Elena and Stephen have denied their forbidden attraction for too long. When they finally unleash their passion, nothing can keep them apart. Not even the risk to their honor…and their lives.
Reader Advisory: Contains attempted rape and minor violence against women.
Warning: This excerpt contains material inappropriate for minors.
By reading on, you are certifying that you are over 18 years of age.
Before he could think, Stephen wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. He dragged one hand down the side of her hip to her upper thigh. Her body was small but curved enticingly beneath her gown. He coaxed her lips open and when they parted, he teased his tongue inside.
She gasped and made a little noise that sounded like, “Oh!”
Stephen withdrew his tongue in surprise. Surely she had been kissed before? Brushing his lips against hers, he gathered her close and stepped forward until he’d pushed her back against the tapestry near the fireplace.
She kept her mouth closed and he didn’t press her again. Instead he ran his lips down the soft, silky flesh of her jaw and stroked his hand down her slender neck, over her collarbone and over the tight bead of her nipple through the fabric of her gown. She buried her face in his neck, gasping.
His cock was so hard it hurt. Their clothing was in the way. Blood pounded in his ears, and he couldn’t think beyond his all-encompassing need.
He would have her. He would make her his.
As he worked the ties of his undergarment with one hand, Stephen hiked up her skirts with the other, sliding the rough pad of his thumb over the supple flesh of her thigh. She moaned into his neck.
The braies fell to his knees. He moved his fingers higher on her thigh, stroking the damp skin between her legs. Gasping, she squirmed, but he ground his cock into her hip and pinned her against the wall.
He slid his fingers into the slick, hot flesh. She went rigid.
Stephen froze. She shook in his arms, trembled all over. She was terrified.
What the hell was he doing? Raping Lady de Burgh? She’d merely kissed him—a chaste, closed-mouth kiss like the gentlelady she was—and he’d pushed her against the wall and nearly thrust his cock inside her like a rutting animal.
Good God, he’d lost his mind. With a hiss of breath, he jerked his hand away and jumped back, leaving her slouched against the wall with a stunned expression on her face.
What had he done? He had pushed aside everything he stood for and given in to carnal lust. He yanked his braies up over his still painfully erect cock. She would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself. He covered his face with his hands, but his fingers were slick and smelled of her sex. The devil in him ordered him to lick his fingers. Instead he fisted his hands and dropped them rigidly to his sides.
“My lady,” he rasped. She looked up at him with wide, shining eyes. Her shocked look flooded him with guilt. “Please forgive me.”
He strode to the door and heaved it open. He couldn’t get out of here quickly enough.
He stepped over the threshold. But then her voice came from behind him, low and sultry and edged with heat. “Stephen. Wait.”
