A Knight in Her Arms (A Sexy Time Travel Novella)

by Debora Dennis

  Hannah giggled. She gave in to the urge and touched his sinewy arm. "Thank you," she said, grateful her voice didn't crack. She eyed the beer on the table for strength.

  "For what?" he asked, still fascinated with the tree lights.

  "For the whole medieval act. It takes guts to dress up like that for a blind date. I know you're not in town long, and Susan probably warned you I'm not very good at blind dates."

  "I am not blind, woman. And that kiss? Something you do often?" He raised a brow.

  Was he teasing her? Heat rose up her cheeks and she licked her lips thinking about the searing kiss. Embarrassed, she looked at the glittering ornaments. "Not lately. I'm sure you noticed."

  Without warning his finger moved from the twinkling lights to touch her chin. His eyes sparked with desire, the lines around his mouth softened into a warm, sexy smile. Did he know how freakin' handsome he was?

  "The only thing I notice is a beautiful woman. A strong woman who doesn't think she needs protecting, but we'll see about that."

  Before she had the chance to respond, or even think about what to say to a comment like that, his hands landed on her shoulders and drew her close. She didn't need any coaxing to lift her mouth to his and let him kiss her again. Just like in the museum, he started by lightly dusting her lips with his. A lock of his hair tickled the side of her brow. She reached up, pushed it aside and let her fingers linger in the coarse strands. He bent to nibble her neck, his warm breath heating everything in its path and quickening her pulse.

  She let one hand run along the muscles of his upper arm and explored him through the thin fabric of his shirt. Expecting the scent of expensive cologne she leaned in and nuzzled his chest. Surprisingly, he smelled of nothing but clean soap and a light lingering hint of cloves. While she inhaled the natural, masculine scent of him, his hands left her shoulders. One went to rest on her hip; the other slowly meandered along her arm, past her waist and came to rest on her behind. He pulled her against his erection, causing her whole body to quiver in response.

  She tried to catch her breath. "I think the real question is who is going to protect me from you?"

  "Do you wish me to stop?" he whispered as his hand cupped her ass, his cock straining against her apex.

  Oh, God. He was the devil. No, Susan was the devil for putting her in this position. She should have at least mentioned the man was gorgeous, that he had his own medieval costume and how hard he'd be to resist. If she didn't back away soon and stop kissing him she was going to end up flat on her back.

  She wasn't a sex on the first date kind of girl.

  "I usually take things a little slower, that's all." Her voice did crack this time, and her mind raced ahead with visions of him sprawled across her sheets. She didn't really want him to stop, did she?

  "Your wish is my command, my lady." His hands fell to his sides and he stepped away from her. A slow ache pulsed between at her core and her heart beat a frantic rhythm in her chest. The linen shirt he wore hung over his hips, but evidence of his arousal stretched through the fabric. Guilt that she'd probably made him terribly uncomfortable pinched her gut and her own body trembled at the thought that he might leave.

  "I'm sorry," she muttered and quickly handed him an opened beer off the table. "Maybe I could find you something to wear and we should just go to dinner?"

  He gripped the bottle in one hand and held it up for inspection before putting it to his lips and drinking half the bottle in a few swallows. "Why do you apologize? There is no honor in forcing oneself upon an unwilling woman."

  "Well, I didn't say I was unwilling." Her fingers clenched around the neck of her own bottle. The cold brew filled her mouth and burned the back of her throat as she swallowed gulp after gulp of liquid strength.

  Unwilling? Not by a long shot.

  Scared and unsure of herself? Bingo.

  It wasn't everyday someone dressed as a 12th century knight took her out and said things like "fate" and "destiny." Every nerve in her body screamed out for his warmth, his kiss and his touch. She felt a connection to him and that fact was more than a little unsettling. It was downright scaring the shit out of her.

  From the corner of her eye she watched him drink from the bottle, his Adam's apple moving up and down his throat. He grimaced and looked at the bottle, and shrugged. Using the back of his hand, he wiped his lips and walked around her living room. He eyed the various holiday decorations she had lining her tabletops and she just knew he was thinking of a polite way to extricate himself from her apartment without offending her or Susan. She had to say something. The silence was killing her.

  "I'll understand if you want to leave," she said and looked at her wristwatch. "You can probably still make your reservation."

  "Why would I leave?" Gavin of Rogueforth leveled a stare at her so intense her skin burned beneath her sweater and up her neck. "I've come here for you. I'm not leaving, Hannah."

  For a second he stood there, eyes locked onto hers. Then his gaze left her eyes and lingered briefly on her mouth. He licked his own lips and a devilish grin slowly spread across his face. He took a step toward her. His eyes traveled down toward where her nipples had hardened into firm peaks against her thin sweater.

  Her mouth dried instantly and her insides quaked. He took another step in her direction. Clearly he was man used to taking what he wanted. And he wanted her?

  The phone rang.

  A blessing or a curse?

  It just prolonged the moment when she'd have to make a choice – to be naughty for once in her life or continue to play it safe. Gavin froze, but he stayed where he was. His hand immediately went to his side. His body tensed, and his gaze remained locked on the ringing phone.

  Hannah had no intention of answering it. How could she? Her mind was too bogged down with trying to convince her body that having sex on a first date wasn't wrong, there was no way she could answer the phone. What if it was her father? After a few more rings, the machine blurted out her hurried message and beeped.

  "Hey, Han, it's me," Susan's high-pitched voice announced. "Call me tomorrow, I'm dying to hear how the date went. I think you're really going to hit off with him. Just let loose a little, okay? Later chick!"

  The phone disconnected and Hannah's insides twisted into an excited bundle of knots. Here she was, twenty-eight years old and hadn't been past second base in at least two years. Gavin seemed in no hurry to get to the restaurant and she was having palpitations every time he got close. Maybe it was time for her to live a little. And he was Susan's cousin, for Pete's sake. So she poked her fingers through her curly hair, drained the remaining beer and looked up to see the sprig of mistletoe she hung in the entryway to her living room every year out of habit.

  "So, should we cancel those reservations?"

  "I have no reservations. I've accepted my fate a long time ago."

  He stood rock still, probably expecting her to make a move in his direction. She mentally clicked through her options, giving herself a moment to be rational. She could order a pizza and they could have another drink. That would give them time to get to know each other. That would be the responsible choice, the safe choice.

  Or she could forget dinner.

  "No more wasting time with words. It's time to seal our fate," he said, moving in close and giving her no time to argue.

  Before her next breath, Gavin's lips were on hers and his strong hands were back on her shoulders. She stepped into the safety of his embrace, her fingers pressed against the solid wall of his chest. Through the linen of his shirt, she kneaded the firm muscles beneath, but she wanted more. While he kissed her neck and his fingers slowly moved along her back, she worked her way from his chest to his abdomen. At the hem of his shirt her fingers slipped underneath and touched his skin. Heat pierced her fingertips as they climbed up the smooth muscles of his six-pack, through curls she imagined to be as black as the hair on his head.

  When she got to his sinewy shoulders, he lifted his arms and she tore off his s
hirt. Gavin reached for the hem of her sweater and her skin rippled with the anticipation of his touch against her bare skin. The edge of his fingers grazed her stomach along the top of her jeans. Warm hands explored her waist from front to back before tunneling up to trace her spine to the clasp of her bra. "I may need some help with this."

  She inhaled and arched her back as his magical touch sent shivers of delight dancing through her body. The rough calloused pads of his fingers were surprisingly gentle against her sensitized skin. By the time he lifted the sweater over her head her nipples were hardened peaks and the inside of her thighs were moist with an aching need for him to fill her. Her blue sweater dangled from his fingertips for a second before landing on the ground at her feet. Heat sparked the air between them, his confident smile breaking through the last of her defenses.

  "Oh, I don't think you need any help from me," she whispered, and, locking her fingers with his, she led him to her bedroom.

  The little conscience in the back of her head was busy throwing a fit, stomping her feet and saying this was wrong, wrong, WRONG. But her pulse beat a rhythm of carnal desire she'd never experienced before and she found herself unwilling to stop. She'd never been so attracted to anyone before – he was like a drug she was powerless to deny.

  Gavin wrapped his powerful arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. In the doorway between her living room and her bedroom, he stopped and lifted her chin with the edge of his hand. Desire in his eyes, his breath warm and erratic against her cheek, she stood on her tiptoes to meet his ardent kiss. Absorbed in the hungry urgency of desire, her hands found the waist of his woolen stockings and gave it a tug.

  His sweet rapturous kisses left her lips and explored the length of her neck as he slowly guided her from the doorway to the edge of the bed. Together they tumbled onto the soft down comforter. His fingers fumbled with the button of her jeans while his tongue stroked the skin of her neck and down between her breasts. "You tempt me, Hannah, yet these confines taunt me at every turn."

  Fire swept across her body when the silky touch of his lips dipped along the edges of the lace of her bra. Damn. Her nipple thrust up against the lacy confines and all she could think about was getting naked and enjoying this hulk of a man. She undid the button at her waist and Gavin gave one final tug on her jeans. He quickly shimmied out of his woolen tights, pulled her to her knees and joined her in the center of her queen-sized bed. Hannah's knees sunk deep into her chocolate-colored sheets and she found herself face to face with Gavin's hot stare.

  Bared to nothing but her red lace bra and panties, her body trembled with desire and excitement at his intense scrutiny. Tracing the lines of her breast, he slipped a finger along the bottom of the underwire. "Interesting," he said, almost to himself and lifted it allowing her breasts to spill into his eager hand. "Perfect and beautiful, just as I imagined them to be."

  Hannah knew she blushed at his words, and while her insides melted at his touch, she relished every delicious stroke of his hands against her skin. Everything about him being there in her room, in her bed, and touching her seemed right. Even kneeling before her, he was a force to be reckoned with. Wide shoulders, strong chest lightly furred with deep ebony ringlets. Arms so large and muscled he could easily crush her, but they were surprisingly gentle when he held her close.

  Her hungry gaze took in every inch of him. More scars, smaller than the jagged slice along the side of his face, were scattered across his torso. She gingerly touched a red scar and looked into his eyes. "What do you do when you're not playing medieval dress-up to get these?"

  "Battle," he said nonchalantly as he leaned in for another kiss.

  "They look painful," she said, pulling her hand away, not wanting to cause him any undue pain.

  "Scratches. They heal." He grabbed her hand, kissed her knuckles, then the insides of her palm. His tongue traced circles down along her wrists, and her head started to spin. He inched closer to her on the bed. One finger slid between her heated skin and thin waistband of her underwear. "Shall I rip this off?"

  Her heart skipped a beat and her clit pulsed its own insistent rhythm, begging for his touch. "Allow me," she said, managing to strip the offending article off as she spoke.

  His lips peppered her wrist, up her arm and nibbled on her earlobe. "Finally, no more barriers to keep you from me," he whispered in her ear.

  Her back hit the cool sheets and his fingers slipped between her folds. She bucked into him and rubbed her swollen clit against his palm. Gavin withdrew his fingers and poised himself between her open legs. The insides of her thighs were already slick with her own need, but with his cock so close to her entrance she gyrated her hips in frantic anticipation of what was to come.

  "Protection?" She mumbled against his chest.

  "With my life, my lady," he said, driving into her with swiftness that took her breath away.

  She sucked in ragged breaths through her teeth as he entered her fully with one deep thrust. They melded together flesh against flesh. His breath as quick as hers, he picked up the tempo of their timeless dance. Hannah grabbed hold of her knight and closed her eyes.

  Was this all just some crazy erotic dream? Would she open her eyes to find she'd fallen asleep in her medieval display?

  The knight in her arms was filled with power and strength, but in his eyes, she saw vulnerability and tenderness, two things he tried to hide behind scars and a deadly sword. She inhaled his scent, his raw passion for the moment at hand and knew she'd never look at her medieval exhibit the same ever again.

  He clenched his jaw and shuddered, and she writhed beneath his powerful body, clutching his buttocks and holding him to her quivering form. Fast and frantic they moved across the sheets until he collapsed beside her.

  He whispered her name until he was breathless, sending waves of delightful shivers straight to her heart.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gavin woke, stretched his arms up over his head and took a deep, satisfied breath. He didn't need to open his eyes to know Hannah slept soundly beside him. Her heart beating against his side, he heard her slow, even breathing. Her warm, lithe body rubbed against him as she dreamed.

  No battle had been so easily won. He'd found her, claimed her, and now would protect her with his life. He lay there with his eyes closed; one arm wrapped around Hannah Falcon's alabaster shoulder, and tried to choose the right words to say to wake her from a peaceful slumber.

  The room was quiet and it tempted him to open his eyes to find out why. His manor seemed to always be bustling with activity day and night. He inhaled deeply. No familiar scents of meals being prepared. No sounds of his men practicing outside. He tamped down the sudden fear he hadn't returned to his time by claiming Hannah as the witch had foretold.

  Instead he focused on the possibility he was merely being afforded some privacy. He inhaled again; this time focusing on Hannah and the way her scent aroused him. Would she accept his simple explanation of the witch's spell? More importantly, would she adjust to living in his time? Hannah stirred beside him and his body responded to her.

  God's teeth, the woman could have been made just for him. Her silky flesh the perfect fit against his battle-hardened body. In his mind, he imagined her in the sunshine of his fields, auburn curls swinging in the sun-kissed breeze, a basket of berries or herbs in her hands or in the crook of her arm. Maybe they'd have children and they would be gathered at her feet.

  Such fanciful dreams for a warrior at the beckon call of his liege lord. Dreams he hoped would come true. He would teach his sons to be great soldiers, like his father had taught him.

  Hannah rolled on top of him and he opened his eyes to see her bright blue eyes studying him. Locks of her curls framed her face and his hands instinctively wrapped around her waist. All he could see was Hannah. At that moment, he knew waking up to her every day for the rest of his life was what he wanted more than any other riches or glory he'd ever imagined.

  "Good morning," she whispered and dippe
d her head to kiss him. Little pecks became ardent kisses as her mouth greedily sought his. He would happily devour her.

  "Morning," he grumbled against her mouth and nibbled the sweet nectar she offered.

  There would be plenty of time to tell her where she was, to introduce her to his life. Skin against skin, his fingers grazed the side of her breasts and his cock hardened and throbbed to find his release deep inside her. She wriggled her hips while her hand stroked the side of his leg. She wanted him too.

  As he was a man of action, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to a straddling position on top of him. Her breasts heaved before him like two ripe peaches and he took one firm nipple in his mouth and suckled. Hannah moaned and ground her hips against him. His fingers found the wetness at her core, separated her folds and dipped them into the silky juices waiting for him. He needed no further invitation. While his tongue laved her nipple to a hardened bud he guided her entrance over his engorged cock.

  Both her hands clutched the pillow beneath his head. "This is so reckless," she sighed, "twice without protection."

  She slowly sank down on him, easing herself over his fullness a little at a time. He fought the urge to grab her hips and thrust into her until he was completely sheathed. Something about her taking control this morning gave him the strength to hold back a bit longer. He wanted to assure her he'd always protect her, that knowing she'd be waiting in his bed would give him strength and a purpose in battle he'd never known before. A hundred thoughts swirled in his head only to be beaten away by her slow dance over his groin.

  Her hands pressed against his chest as she shifted and writhed on top of him, her eyes closed in the rapture of the moment. Sweet mercy, she was a beauty to behold. Curly wisps of hair bounced around her face as she slid up and down his shaft. He thrust up to meet her, his own fulfillment nearing. The pressure built and his eyes tried to close, but he needed to keep them open, needed to see the ecstasy on her face at the moment their shared passion crested and they became one.