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Authors: Sahara Kelly

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KnightsOfPleasure SKelly_Nook

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Knights of Pleasure

 

Sahara Kelly

Copyright 2011

SK Private Label
Publications

 

Cover copyright
Sahara Kelly 2011

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

 

In
2011, I had the pleasure of attending the Maryland Renn Fest. It's enormous,
filled with more wonderful things than I can begin to describe. The vendors are
amazing, from the simplest of treats to the most elaborate costumes and breathtaking
workmanship I've ever seen. It's far too easy to drop a ton of money and come
home with a selection of uniquely beautiful things you'll most likely not wear
again until the next Renaissance Faire. But that's pretty much okay because we
all do it.

This
story is dedicated to those who work at, attend, and organize such events. A
way of thanking them for the delightful hours I've spent wandering the "medieval
world" they create.

And
I must also thank those who continuously support me as I take baby steps toward
my independence by self-publishing these novellas. They buy my ebooks and order
my print books when they come out. That kind of friendship is truly beyond
price. Thank you all, my dears. You are my lighthouses in the dangerous waters
of our business.

To
my best friend and partner, I've already said it more than once! Your advice,
brilliance, humor and encouragement continue to influence my writing and my
life. Both for the better. Thank you.

 

 

 

Author's Note

 

I
have tried to remain as true as possible to the actual environment of the
Maryland Renn Fest. It's set on a large acreage, so if I have failed to
adequately describe it, my apologies. The sheer size took my breath away and I
spent more time gaping at the wonders within, than actually writing useful
notes during my visit. Any errors are completely my fault.

Forgive
me. On Faire days, it's all about the corsets…

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

The
low light fell on the writhing bodies, highlighting muscles, caressing curves,
brushing over limbs that moved in a slow dance of rising ecstasy.

It
was a massive bed, one that the two who used it regularly had grown to relish.
It offered plenty of room for three people to play, to enjoy each other, and to
share sexual experiences that some might describe as outside the norm.

Neither
man viewed such matters that way. They looked upon their preference for sharing
sex as an enhancement; an addition of one more body to the pairing which increased
the excitement of foreplay, enriched the creativity of their positions and--eventually--multiplied
the orgasmic pleasure.

Tonight
was no exception.

The
lady they'd met at the theater was eager to accommodate them both, making her
interest clear, understanding the potential of two handsome lovers. She was
nude, her body lush and inviting as she straddled Tyler Adams's cock. The round
globes of her ass invited his touch and he let himself enjoy the pleasure of
squeezing and pinching the full mounds.

She
sighed and moaned. Speech was impossible, since Logan Kent was kneeling in
front of her with his cock in her mouth, teasing her ripe breasts. Soft sucking
noises let both men know she was fully into the moment, and her pleasure added
to theirs.

She
was undeniably bold. Perhaps even familiar with this particular sexual
configuration. Tyler wasn't sure, nor at that moment, did he care. He simply
relished the feel of her snug body as she moved rhythmically on his erection,
not with a bounce but a slow squeezing tug that he found absolutely exquisite.

Logan's
breaths were becoming quicker and sharper, and with a knowledge born of
experience, Tyler knew his friend was closing in on his release. It was time
for all of them to come, to fall into that whirling maelstrom of bliss. To let
go, shout out their cries of orgasm, and eventually to tumble together into
exhausted sleep.

He
let go of one buttock and slipped his hand around her hip, finding her clit
hard and slick and thrusting past its concealing hood. He fondled the wet
folds, knowing better than to rub her at this point, understanding that a
direct touch would be more pain than pleasure.

She
moaned more loudly and he felt her muscles tense as he stroked.

His
own arousal was creeping toward its inevitable finale as her hot flesh began to
shudder around him. Her skin became increasingly taut and all the signs were
there, the moment was so close…

Daringly,
he decided to seal the deal with a quick movement of his free hand. Slipping
down the shadowed cleft between her butt cheeks, he thrust a finger into her
anus and she exploded on a choked scream.

Logan
groaned loudly, a dull roar signaling balls erupting and seed pumping from his
cock. In this case it was going down the throat of their playmate.

Tyler
sucked in a breath, thrust his hips upward--and it was done.

A
storm of pleasure rocked him as his cock throbbed, pulsed and poured semen into
the condom. Her continuing spasms milked him, squeezing him dry, leading him
into the mad blindness that always accompanied his orgasm.

As
the magnificent sensation slowly faded and his vision returned, Tyler realized
something. It had never been this good until he and Logan had formed their bond
and begun to hunt the right prey.

It
had never been this hot, this passionate or this much fun.

Would
their adventures last? He had no fucking clue. But while they did, he was going
to seize every naked blissful moment out of them. And not worry about what came
next.

Life,
mused Tyler as he drifted off to sleep, was a helluva lot more fun when one
made one's own rules.

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Prepare
thyself for Merriment.

The large sign, appropriately
displaying medieval-style lettering, was emblazoned across the front of a large
fake castle, above windows where customers could pay for the privilege of being
merry.

And
apparently merry didn't come cheap.

Susannah
"Slash" McGill fidgeted with her corset and sighed. She stood in line
with the rest of the crowds eager to enter the medieval world of the
Renaissance Faire, and
from
the look of the license plates on the cars in the huge field behind her, half
the population of the Northeast Corridor had shown up.

Maryland
was well represented, of course, since that's where they were. Virginia, being
a stone's throw away, was also here in force. Then there was Pennsylvania,
Delaware, New Jersey, New York, some Ohioans, a few folks from North Carolina
and one car she'd noticed from Alberta, Canada.

Long
ride for a Renaissance Faire.

But
then again, if you were a fan of these things, then no distance would be too
great. For her, the hour or so drive from her home in Northern Virginia was too
much. She wasn't a fan, didn't know a damn thing about medieval history, and
had she been asked, she would have quickly pointed out that there were some
things she cared less about, but not many.

So
how had she ended up in a line of eager faire-goers, with her corset laced
tightly and her breasts almost under her nose?

Good
question. Especially in light of her usual clothing--jeans, comfortable shoes
and a t-shirt or sweatshirt, depending on the season. People who ran their own
private detective agencies needed ease of movement, not long skirts and
cleavage.

McGill
Investigative Services was doing quite nicely in spite of the recession. Not
that she was raking in millions, but she was paying her bills and living
comfortably. She could swing the occasional bottle of good scotch, bought top
of the line sneakers for herself and her car wasn't showroom-fresh but wasn't
an embarrassment either. Her needs were modest, and she was able to tuck a
little something away each month into what she privately referred to as her
Fantasy fund. Some day she'd use it to indulge herself in a fantasy. What it
was, she didn't know yet, but it would come to her.

All
of which was fine, but it hadn't brought her here, to the doorstep of a
long-ago time. She found herself facing the wench behind the window--and yes,
wench was completely the right word for anyone with breasts that size. The word
"buxom" simply had to precede it.

"
How
much?" Susannah blinked. "Did
you say
nineteen dollars
?"

"Yes
ma'am." The buxom wench stared through the grille. "It's an all day
pass. You got a coupon? Downloaded from the Internet? Saves you three bucks."

"Nope."

"Nineteen
dollars, please."

She
forked over her credit card. "Should be a pass for a couple of historical
eras for that kind of money."

"Yes,
ma'am. Have a nice day."

Now possessed of a ticket and with
the distinct feeling she'd just been politely mugged, Susannah made her way
carefully through the turnstile and into the fairgrounds.
Carefully
being the order of the day, since she wasn't quite used
to a lot of fabric swooshing around her bare legs.

The whole costume thing was starting
to irritate her a bit, as did the cheerfully lustful glances she intercepted
from more than a few men. Some of whom should have known better, since they
were with their families. It seemed that these pseudo-medieval gentlemen didn't
worry about where their gazes landed, or whether their wives noticed.

Of course, after the third bold,
costumed and muscled knight walked across her path, she had to confess that the
wives might well have been a tad preoccupied. There was some prime male flesh
being displayed, without a doubt.

Susannah's thoughts darted to a
specimen of the same description she'd admired recently. The darkly attractive,
blue-eyed Logan Kent. He'd opened a small business near hers in Alexandria, and
they were sharing a couple of local suppliers. His bookstore was doing well, as
far as she knew, and there had been more than one occasion when she'd dropped
in, on the pretense of looking for a certain title, but actually to look at the
owner.

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