by Sadie Dane
Pleased by the Knight
Loving the Knight, Book Four
By
Sadie Dane
©2015 by Blushing Books® and Sadie Dane
All rights reserved.
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Dane, Sadie
Pleased by the Knight
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-930-5
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About Sadie Dane
Ebook Offer
Blushing Books Newsletter
About Blushing Books
Chapter One
Gia knelt at the feet of her master. As a child he had been her protector and world. Now, as a grown woman, he was her father and her king. There was nothing sexual in the way she rested her head against his knees, but there was love and trust. He affectionately patted her dark locks once before gesturing that she should rise.
"My sweet oasis, I feel as if it has been forever since I spent time with you." He spoke to her in English, as he often did when they were alone, instead of his native Atvian.
"I've found myself very busy with my hora duties these days. Though, if it displeases you, I can stop," Gia replied.
"No, no, no. I would never ask that of you." He leaned in and whispered like he was telling a secret. "I fear the men may revolt if I tried to. They sing songs immortalizing your skills."
Gia couldn't help the smile forming on her face. She'd heard the songs, but it was the source of the compliment that really pleased her. "I take all of my duties seriously. My task is an important one, preparing the herd for you."
The king frowned, forming a wrinkle between the eyebrows on his ageless face. "You know I don't like you referring to them as animals. Not even in jest."
Gia dropped her head, immediately chastised. "I do care for them, Father. Please, forgive me."
"Always."
The king sat down on a thick rug woven with dark reds, browns, and greens. He reclined back, surrounded by plush pillows that complimented his darker coloring. He was a man that enjoyed the finer things. Soft cloths, beautiful women, and exotic foods.
His taste had been her saving grace, so many years ago. When she'd been dropped at his feet as a small child, spitting and swinging at whatever came near, the young king had been drawn to her fair skin and the way it had shone against her dark hair and eyes. She had been a rebellious, wild child and for many in her position that was where her story could have ended. A life of servitude if she was lucky. But Gia had been purchased, renamed and treated as much like a princess as was possible without actually holding the title.
Now, she held not only the highest position a female could hold, save for the king's wives but also held the only title of knighthood offered to women in Atvia. A knighthood of one. As Hora of Atvia, she governed the training of potential brides as well as the morale of the Atvian soldiers.
Known to some as the seducer, to others as a friend and to most as the night you will never forget, Gia excelled in making men believe and feel what she needed them to believe and feel. She had learned most of her skills observing the beautiful, bronzed man in front of her. He radiated power, had an army large enough to justify his arrogance, but the weapons the king used more frequently were his charm, wit and intelligence.
"I do have a favor to ask of you." He managed to sound contrite while also confident that she would not refuse him. Indeed, he did not even wait for her consent to continue. "The foreign prince that arrives today, Prince Corbin of Ceravique. Pay close attention to him."
Gia tensed. "Do you suspect he's come to harm you?"
The king patted the pillow beside him and Gia went to him, sitting down at his side. "Nothing like that. But, I am wary. My newest bride was supposed to be the one arriving today. Instead, I receive word that the foreign prince is coming in her stead with his tale as to why." He grabbed her hands, holding them in each of his.
"I see."
"Watch him, dear one, with your eyes that miss nothing."
"And if he is lying?"
The king smiled. "Then you will have a chance to do what you are second best at."
From the arched doorway came a knock. A dusty messenger entered. The king made no attempt to move away from Gia, their embraces were not something he hid or felt shame about. They kept no secrets from each other. "You asked for first word," the messenger began apologetically. "They've been spotted on the main road. All those who departed, minus the two men lost and your intended, Princess Lotte."
"The prince?"
"He is with them."
The king nodded and the messenger departed, leaving the two of them alone again.
The king lovingly squeezed her hands. "I believe it is time for you to prepare," he said as if he wished she could stay longer.
Gia was already getting to her feet, eager to please him. "Do not worry, my king," she said with determination.
A few hours later Gia waited behind a thick canvas. She heard the rustling of many bodies inside the tent. If her orders were obeyed, and they generally were, Prince Corbin would not be escorted directly to his room. Instead, he would have a front row seat. And so would she.
A warm breeze lifted the soft fabric of her costume.
"Hora, I have the item you requested," said a potential bride, her pleasant face barely illuminated by torchlight. Gia let the potential affix a ruby and sapphire studded circlet to the sides of her head. It was her favorite piece, given to her from the king because he said it reminded her of her eyes, like endless wells.
"Thank you," Gia said. The potential blushed, curtsied, and left her, returning to her position at the side of the tent. Gia recognized the potential from training. She was fairly new, normally soft-spoken, until she reached orgasm and then she would scream like a banshee.
Inside the tent, the drummers began to pound their beat that indicated her show was about to begin. She didn't need a formal introduction. Her performances were fluid and meant to blend into the night. Gia enjoyed her time on stage, more so in her earlier teen years, but now as she was in her twenties she found her dances were more rote movement than improvisation. They were meant to entice, to spark or fuel existing desire. Tonight she danced for a far greater purpose, the safety of her savior. The safety of her king. If this Prince Corbin had any notion in his mind of harming her king, than he would indeed witness that thing at which Gia was second best.
#
All Prince Corbin wanted after finally arriving in Atvia was a glass of something cold and a bed. He'd managed to get a glass of something, what it was, he had no idea. He knew it wasn't cold and feared nothing in this kingdom would be. So far what he had seen of Atvia was beautiful in its barrenness. Judging fro
m how blisteringly hot it was now, in what the High General had called winter, he could only assume the summers were unbearable. That life had continued to persevere in a climate as harsh as this one impressed him.
Despite Atvia's fighting spirit and Corbin's desire to clear up the issue of the king's missing bride, he was more exhausted and in great need of a bath. The moment they'd crossed into Atvia it seemed like sand had crept into sensitive parts of his body that were not used to chaffing.
And yet, from the moment they'd arrived, he'd been corralled around, no sight of the king or mention of him planning to greet him. He'd been all but shoved into a large tent lit by shirtless men holding torches. The red and orange canvas rippled as the wind Corbin only wished he could feel, whipped past.
The other soldiers he'd journeyed with sat around him on plush, dark purple pillows. They drank happily, speaking with each other in Atvian, unconcerned by how stiflingly hot the inside of the tent was or by the overpowering scent that seemed to waft from the torches.
A drumbeat began to vibrate through the tent like a pulse. Half the shirtless men extinguished their torches as the other half moved to a circular stage area in the front of the tent. Corbin took a long swig of his mystery beverage and sighed, settling into his cushion. Hopefully, whatever little show they'd prepared would be short.
She appeared on stage as if she'd always been there, disrupting so little of the world around her it took the men a few extra moments to realize she was there at all. Not Corbin. The moment he'd seen her, covered from head to toe in a vibrant blue silk robe except for a slit at her eyes, he felt a silence in his mind. As close as he was to the stage, he could see her heavily lined eyes shining, dark, somehow familiar and altogether endless.
The pounding of the drums continued, somehow matching the beating of his own heart as the woman began to move. The men in the tent fell silent as every pair of eyes followed her every sway. She seemed unfazed by how she was being ogled. In fact, Corbin got the distinct impression that she didn't even realize they were there at all, more like they were the ones who had stumbled upon her and sat now, crouched behind a tree taking peeks as she danced to the rhythmic, naturally seductive sounds of nature.
With her arms out, she spun in circles. At some magical point her robe was flung from her body, though he hadn't seen her hands work any fastenings. However it happened, Corbin was happy for it. She had a body that inspired poems and started wars. She was everything that was woman, curves, softness and strength. Her skin was pale for an Atvian, creamy instead of tan and it shone under the torchlight. Her silk brown skirt sat low on her hips with high slits up each side. As she spun, whipping her long dark hair around her, Corbin caught naughty glimpses that made him feel even more like a teen boy spying on the maidens bathing in the river. Her stomach was bare, not flat or sunken in as he would've expected of a slave or servant. A turquoise halter covered her breasts. Corbin wished he was that halter. Finally, she stopped and faced her audience head on.
It was as if she stared only at him. Her stomach rose and fell as she breathed quickly, deeply. He noticed then the way her face was perfectly framed by a jeweled band across her forehead.
He wondered if it had been a gift, perhaps from a lover. A wave of unfamiliar jealousy swept over him as the drumbeat quickened. Now, it was his heart's turn to speed up and match the pace. The woman began to dance in earnest, writhing and undulating like a flame in a roaring fire. She lifted one leg straight up, performing a sort of vertical split. Corbin thought he heard the men in the crowd groan.
He looked down, surprised to see that not only was his drink empty, but that a new one had silently replaced it. He sipped the strong beverage that burned a trail down his throat as he swallowed.
His eyes had been away from her for too long and his mind screamed that he fix that. Her arms rose up to the canvas top, as if she could see through the cloth, as if they were not in a tent watching a woman dance but rather they were all privy to a sensual sacrifice to the gods.
The drums stopped abruptly. A shirtless man hollered and pointed at the dancer's feet. Slithering along the stage with purpose, the cobra quickly made its way towards the dancer's feet. She screamed and Corbin jumped to his feet, ready to protect her. She stumbled back, fear radiating from her every movement, away from the snake. The dancer fell and the snake rose, poised and ready to strike.
It was as if every man in the tent pulled their swords free at the same moment and pounced on the poisonous intruder. By the time the chaos had cleared Corbin couldn't even see the snake. He didn't know if it had slithered away or had been cut into so many pieces it was now invisible.
The woman silently got to her feet. Her shoulders rose and fell rapidly as she looked at the crowd of men with a heavy, new expression. As if all of the fear she had felt had been replaced with lust. Her eyes fell on Corbin and his cock immediately hardened. There was no time to analyze how he had grown so ready so quickly from a single look.
The drum beat began again, slow, steady, urging. The dancer leapt on the man nearest to her and unapologetically kissed him, his hands holding her at her ass. The man explored her body freely as she rubbed herself against as much of him as she could touch. It was not long before another soldier came up behind her. She was passed off to the new man and made the transition to the new arms seamlessly, like she was looking forward to it.
Corbin watched all this transpire as if in a trance. He longed to be one of those men with their hands on her breasts, stomach and face, but his head felt odd, like he was drunk. Not exactly drunk, that he could handle. This felt different, more than drunk. His body felt heavier than normal. He took a step towards the sexual frenzy transpiring on the stage and his world began to spin.
Soft, feminine hands steadied him from behind and Corbin got his first glance of what was going on around him. So concerned with his dancer, as he thought of her now, he hadn't noticed the tent had more guests. A handful of young women dressed in ivory dresses, older women in brightly colored clothing much like the ones the dancer had worn, and some young men now walked among the soldiers.
Nobody spoke real words unless one counted grunts and moans. This dance was one they all seemed to know the steps to, except for Corbin who watched it all unfold with stupid wonder. Just in front of him an older woman was on her knees sitting on a man's face, her face fixed in an expression of pure pleasure as she ground against him.
Corbin looked upward to where he thought his gaze would be safe, only to see a woman suspended from the top of the tent, with ropes tied around each of her ankles. She held onto another rope that was intricately wrapped around her middle and she stretched her legs open lowering her pussy to the man who waited below, with his mouth open like a baby bird eager for dinner.
Corbin stumbled back into fragile arms that guided him down so he sat at the edge of everything. Gentle hands tugged at his pants and Corbin looked down in near detachment, to see a woman he'd never seen before handling his erect penis. She stared up at him with greedy, blue eyes as if looking for permission. Corbin hadn't thought he'd given any, he didn't think he could make any coherent motion at all while in his rapidly deteriorating state. All the same, her lush lips opened and she attempted to take his entire length in her mouth. She gagged; Corbin was larger than most men. But, she had an eager, expert mouth.
It was exquisite. She licked at him fiercely, her other hand cupped his balls and kneaded them with just enough pressure to make him moan out loud. Corbin didn't have to worry about making too much noise; every man around him was just as preoccupied.
The inside of the tent seemed to vibrate a cacophony of groaning and skin slapping against skin. Just to the right of him a little black haired woman whimpered with her lips around a cock as another man mercilessly rammed into her from behind. She looked over at Corbin with an expression that seemed to say, 'You're next.'
But even as his dick was being serviced, Corbin had his mind set on another woman. His hand absently settled aga
inst the back of the head of the woman sucking him and he found her, the real object of his desire. Still on the stage, lying on her back, she wailed. It was easy to see why with one man burying his face between her legs, two more sharing her breasts and another kissing her lips. Corbin watched, unabashedly, knowing this surreal event was unlike anything he'd ever see again. At that point, he figured he'd been drugged. It was the only thing that could explain his spinning head. He didn't know by whom and at this precise moment, he didn't care.
All too soon, he felt himself nearing his peak. Not only was the woman at his front an absolute expert but it had been a very long time for Corbin. He closed his eyes and tried to talk himself down.
"Not yet, potential," the soft order came from in front of him. Corbin looked up at the gloriously naked, dancing beauty, wondering when she'd had the time to walk across the room. Her absence had no effect on the actions of those in the room. They continued chasing their desires, unperturbed. The girl at his front released his cock immediately and settled back on her knees, with her gaze down.
"Enjoying yourself?" His dancer’s question seemed to come from very far away.
"I...yeah," he replied, surprised he could still form words with his mush mouth.
She crouched down and examined him. He kept her gaze, unable to look away even as she looked at him with such scrutiny.
"Do you want her mouth back, to finish the job?"
"I'd rather it was you."
The woman smiled at that and bent down. She whispered but he could hear her clearly. "Lucky for you, so far you seem like an honest man."
He felt like she was going to kiss him. Corbin wished he didn't feel so incapacitated. He wanted to touch her with his full strength. Garbled noises came out of his mouth when he tried to speak. The sounds echoed in his ears. With difficulty, he extended a wobbly arm out to her.
