Vicki went shopping.  Her entire wardrobe consisted of two pairs of jeans, two t-shirts, two sweaters, functional underwear and a thick coat borrowed from a friend.  Nothing that would do for this.

Her insurance company had already assured her that the payout would be significant, so she could afford to splurge.  She had some savings in the bank, and this seemed as good an excuse as any to dip into them.

She found an attractive black midi dress and a pair of ankle strap heels.  A lace bra and panty set in a deep midnight blue completed her purchases.  The latter was perhaps optimistic, but… she could always use more lingerie.  

There was far too much time left before seven thirty, so she filled it with a trip to the salon and had them tidy up her hair.  She was still back at her hotel by five. 

Though she’d eventually had it returned, her laptop had been destroyed by rain (so much for that backpack being waterproof) and work had insisted she ‘took as long as she needed’.  That had been more than fine when she’d wanted to traipse around fire stations, but it left her with little to do now but twiddle her thumbs.  She took a long shower, paying particular attention with her razor blade, then lay down naked on her hotel bed to wait.

“It was… fun.”

He’d sobered, and leant forward slightly.  “Fun?”

Was that the wrong thing to say?  Perhaps he thought she’d been flippant.  But… it had been fun, dammit.  Scary, sure.  Embarrassing as all hell when he’d first come in.  But it had been… sexy.  Exciting.

Fun.

“You just want my hand on your ass again, don’t you?” he’d murmured.

She remembered the platform moving beneath her, the feeling of her panic threatening to overwhelm.  “Anything!  Distract me!” she’d said.

“Shall I make you beg?”

Yes, ‘fun’ wasn’t a bad word.  But he’d made her feel safe, too.  Perhaps she should’ve said that.

“I’m safe because of you, Sir Knight.  I’ll only be safe with you.”

She’d already told him.  As it was, she had her job cut out to persuade him she wasn’t some insane, love-sick puppy that could only fixate on him because of the intensity of the experience they’d shared.

No… fun was the better word.

She glanced at the clock.  Why was it moving so slowly?

*

“Well, don’t you look lovely.”

She smiled.  “You’re easy on the eye yourself, Sir Knight.”

“Thank you.  Do you like Italian?”

“Have you ever met anyone who doesn’t?  Seriously?”

He took them to an intimate Italian he clearly knew well, a place she wouldn’t have glanced at twice from the external décor, but of course that meant little and the food proved to be outstanding. 

They talked freely and quickly, keen to learn about one another in the way that is so fresh and exciting the first time.

She asked him why he’d chosen the job he had, and he was eager to explain.

“I lost my grandfather in a house fire.  I was nine.  I’ve been physically fit my whole life, and enjoy the physical challenge.  But mostly, I just want to help people, to save lives.”

He was so passionate about it that she realised it wasn’t a job, it was a vocation.  A part of who he was. 

“It suits you well, Sir Knight.  Do you often use it to pick up damsels?”

“Just the once.”

They talked about plans for the future, maybe a family and the hope to move out of the city and more into the country.  Not too far, but far enough.  On every point they agreed.

They shared a love of physical activity; hiking and running.  He enjoyed climbing, she liked diving.  Each was keen to show the other their sports. 

The waiter came with the dessert menus which they both dutifully accepted, then both declined. 

“The coffee here is far better than at the other place,” he suggested tentatively.

“I’d invite you back for a coffee at my place, but I’m living in a dingy hotel room.”

“I’m not,” he said, “and the coffee I have is pretty good too.”

“Is that an invitation, Sir Knight?”

*

Michael stepped out of the uber and walked around to open her door.

“Such a gentleman,” she said, taking his hand.

“Only on the first date.”

“This is our second, isn’t it?”

He grinned.  She was intelligent and witty, and he’d been enjoying her mind all evening. 

“My apartment is on the ninth floor.  Just how scared of heights are you?”

“Oh, apartment blocks don’t bother me.  I live in one,” she grimaced. “Lived in one.  No, it’s just… overhangs.  Things like that.”

“You said you’d come climbing with me.”

“That’s different.  There’s ropes and you’re in control, and it’s natural.  I can’t explain it, but it wouldn’t bother me.”

“I have a balcony.”

“That would bother me.”

He looked thoughtful.  “Let’s see.”

They were quiet in the elevator together, but the mood was anticipatory, not awkward. 

He took pleasure in showing her around his apartment, and though it was small it was beautifully decorated and furnished.  He’d done most of it himself, and was delighted when she commented on the décor. 

He had an open-plan arrangement save for the bedroom and bathroom, and the main living area had a dining room table with a couple of sofas and chairs.  The balcony was through a set of French doors from the dining area, but despite his earlier enigmatic comment he kept them closed.  Instead, he offered her a coffee.

“Espresso, please.”

“Are you sure you’re not Italian?”

“I like it dark and strong.”

He grinned.  “Not going there.  Too easy.”

They sat where they could easily see one another but she seemed thoughtful.

“Something you want to ask me?” he inquired.

She set down her coffee on the small table between them.  “Can I address the elephant in the room?”

He nodded his permission, and took a sip.

She furrowed her brow while she took a moment to gather her thoughts.  “I… loved the time we had together.  I’ve loved being with you this evening, every minute of it.”

He nodded again, waiting for her to continue.

“You make me feel safe.  You did then; you do now.”

He couldn’t resist. “Even when I asked you to beg?”

“Especially when you asked me to beg.” She lowered her eyes, fiddling with the hem of her dress.  “I… like the control you radiate.  It’s attractive.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

She squirmed slightly.  “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

“This is a safe space.  Say what you want.”

“Okay…” she took a steadying breath, and laid it all out.  “I’m scared you won’t take me seriously because we were thrown together in such an intense way.  I’m scared you will think that my feelings for you aren’t real, because they’re just the infatuation of a distressed damsel for her rescuer.  And… and I’m scared that in part, that may be true.”

She lifted her gaze to his, seeking understanding in his eyes, “But I only know that I want to try.  I… I find myself drawn to you more with every minute we spend together.  Maybe it won’t work, maybe it’ll run out of steam in a week, but… but I don’t feel that right now.”

“I think I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

She knew exactly to what he was referring.  “You did.”

“You called me your ‘handsome Knight’.”

“I did.  You are.  You called me ‘traumatised’.”

He winced, then chuckled.  “You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”

She smiled, and it seemed somehow both demure and playful, “Not unless you distract me sufficiently.”

“I think I know how to distract you.”

“You do, you most certainly do… and though I want you to distract me, I need to know if you think we can even have a relationship.”

He set his coffee cup down on the table beside hers, and leant back in his chair.  “What do you think, milady?”

She considered him carefully.  “It has been intense, and… I concede that isn’t an ideal start.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we can’t hope to maintain the level of excitement we found on our… ‘first date’.  It was too much.  It’s not a basis for a relationship; we’d set ourselves up to fail.  It would never work.”

He nodded, as though he’d already come to that conclusion.  “You’re right… so why don’t we base it on a Knight who ravishes a helpless damsel?”

She smiled, lowering her eyes.  “That doesn’t sound very Knightly.”

“Maybe he’s an evil Knight.”

“I think maybe he is.”

“Maybe your Knight is a little bit… dark,” he was being playful, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

There was something exciting about the heat in his gaze.  But…  “A little bit dark.  Not too dark.”

“Not too dark,” he echoed, agreeing.

“I… I think I’d be okay with that.” Damn, and now I’m aroused.  How dark is my Knight?

“I don’t make a habit of kissing people I rescue.  Or of squeezing their naked asses.  I want you to know that.”

She blushed slightly, and he found it charming.  “I didn’t think you did, but I admit I’m relieved to hear you say it.”

“Let’s make no promises, and see what happens.  I would like to see what happens.”

She looked up at him.  “So would I,” her voice soft.

He stood, offering her his hand.  “Come with me.”

She took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up.  “Where are we going?”

“Not far.  You’ll see.”

He led her away from the sofas and stopped, of all places, near the dining room table.  She glanced up at him, puzzled.

“Do you trust me?”

“I… yes.  Yes, I do.” It was easy to.  He made her feel safe.  He always had.

He slowly closed the gap between them, raising his hands to softly cup her face, then bent enough to brush her lips with his.  She met his mouth with hers, closing her eyes to welcome the kiss and the feel of his hands, gentle and comforting.

He slid his hand around to the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding beneath her hair, and his grip was firm enough for her to know she was held.  It called for her acquiescence, and she gave it willingly.  He drew her to him for a kiss that started with another brush of his lips, a flick of his tongue against hers, until she opened to him and he kissed her more deeply, pushing in, exploring her mouth even as he held her firmly with his grip on her neck. 

His other hand lowered, turning to brush the back of his fingers down over her breast, rubbing lightly over the nub of her nipple through the material of her dress, once, twice; such a delightful sensation.

She gasped softly into his mouth, reaching up for him, pulling his head down firmly to her as she pushed her body against his.

She felt his hands slip behind her and find the zip of her dress, and he pulled it down slowly, giving her a chance to protest.  She had no such intent.

He stroked both his hands out across her shoulders, brushing the straps of her dress away as he did, and the dress slipped open, falling to bunch briefly on her hips, before slipping to pool on the floor. 

He kissed her again while his hands caressed the smoothness of her skin, and her own hands went eagerly to the buttons of his shirt.

“Turn around,” he murmured, and her hands stilled on his buttons, halfway undone.  Her eyes flicked up to his face, registering her surprise, but she turned as bid, presenting her back to him.

She felt him brush her hair aside, his lips kissing the nape of her neck, his tongue licking lightly as he kissed her, and it sent a shiver down her spine.  His fingers were at the strap of her bra; it came loose and he brushed the straps from her shoulders.  She let it fall.

She was aware of him kneeling behind her, his lips against her skin once more as he laid kisses against the small of her back, even as his fingers slipped into the waistband of her panties and gently pushed them down an inch, then another.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you liked having me naked while you are still fully clothed,” she whispered, and her breath caught in her throat as her panties fell to land on her ankle strap heels.

“I do.”  His breath was warm against her ass.

“Am I going to get to see you naked too?” she asked, playfully.

He chuckled softly,  “Uh huh,” and he placed a kiss at the top of her bottom, before rising again behind her.

His arms came around her, pulling her firmly back against him, his hands cupping her breasts as he nuzzled against her neck.  She turned her head, seeking his kiss, and as their mouths met she knew what he was doing: he was re-playing some of the things they had done in her bathroom.

“Why?” she murmured against him, and he understood what she was asking.  Their minds were an intuitively perfect match, in the way that is possible but so rare, so valuable: a meeting of ideals, of philosophies, of complementary personalities and of sexual compatibility.

“I felt the need to begin again,” he replied, as his thumbs brushed lightly over her nipples.  “To focus on the positives.  To give us a foundation that doesn’t include the drama, the horror, the devastation, or the fear.  Well… maybe a little of the fear.”

She shivered against him, listening to his words.  It made sense.  A fresh start, so to speak.  A reset, but retaining the parts they’d liked.  Yet his last comment… that was concerning.  A little bit dark.  A little bit creepy, even.  The shiver had been real. 

“What do you mean?” her voice was small, afraid.  How well did she actually know him?  She couldn’t help but wonder again, how dark is my Knight?

“Do you still trust me?” he sounded so calm, so gentle, that she was reminded again of how safe he’d made her feel.  But still…

“Yes… but not quite as much.”

He chuckled, a quiet sound that made his chest vibrate slightly against her back.  A sound she’d heard him make several times, and one she liked.  She liked so much about him.  His good looks, the easiness with which he met everything, his strength, his gentleness and control.  But there was more to him than she’d initially thought, that only now was he hinting at.

“I’m working to an assumption here.  Something I want to explore with you.  Are you open to that?”

It felt like he was pushing her slightly, nudging against her boundaries, her comfort zone.  She felt her pulse accelerate, even as his thumbs flicked again over her nipples.  He was arousing her, too – and not in a small way.  This was getting a little kinky, but… beyond all of that, she still felt irresistibly drawn to him. 

It was as if he knew her better than she’d thought, maybe better than she knew herself, at least in this regard.  Perhaps he’d sensed something in her that mirrored his own darkness. 

“You just want my hand on your ass again, don’t you?” he’d murmured.

She remembered the platform moving beneath her, the feeling of her panic threatening to overwhelm.  “Anything!  Distract me!” she’d said.

“Shall I make you beg?”

There’d been a hint, even then, and yet she’d responded to him.  She’d responded to his darkness, with something inside her.

“You make me feel safe.  You did then; you do now.”

“Even when I asked you to beg?”

“Especially when you asked me to beg.”

She shivered again.  “Yes, I’m open to that.”

He turned her, his hands gentle but firm on her shoulders, and his hand lightly gripped her chin.  “I was hoping you would be.”  He bent forward and brushed her lips with his, tilting her chin to meet him.  It was a possessive but tender gesture, and she liked it.

He took her hand in his and pressed it to the skin of his chest, above his heart, in the gap where she’d opened some of his buttons.  He took a pace backwards, pulling gently, encouraging her to follow.  He was smiling at her; an open, playful little smile that was really quite endearing.  Sexy.

She stepped carefully free of the clothes entangling her feet and allowed herself to be led: naked, save for her heels; he still fully clothed.  That, too, was perhaps a little kinky; a reminder of the vulnerability she’d had throughout their relationship, but something he could wrap in his arms and make go away.

He backed up another step, and her eyes widened as she saw the French Doors behind him.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I was scared of heights.”

“I know,” he said, and took another step.  She followed; he had her hand held, but now there was reluctance and she felt herself tensing.  He felt it too.  “I won’t let anything happen to you.  I never have; I never will.  I swear to you, on my soul: I will keep you safe.”

She wanted to lose herself in those words, to wrap them around her like a comforting blanket that carried his scent.  She chewed her lip nervously, then nodded.  Some of the tension left her and he’d taken another step with her before she’d realised. 

His hand fell to the lock on the door, and with a twist of his wrist, he unlocked it, then reached to one side and pulled a long cord.

Her eyes flicked to it in puzzlement.

“Heater,” he said by way of explanation.  “I go out here quite a lot, and it’s not warm this time of year.”

The implication wasn’t lost on her.

“I’m naked.”

“Yes, you are.”

“People might see me.”

“It’s a possibility, but the balcony is quite high.  There’s no gaps.”

She looked past him and saw what he’d said was true.  It looked solid, enclosed, yet the city lay beyond: lights and cars, buildings and people.

The sound of him opening the doors jolted her attention back to him, and she felt her eyes widen, her pulse increase.

“I’m scared of heights,” she whispered.

“I know.  Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

She still did; she always would.  “Yes.”  She allowed him to take another step, and now he was on the balcony, she in the threshold.

Why was he doing this?  Was he just proving a point, or was it exciting him?  Did he want her to be afraid?  

“Well… maybe a little of the fear.”

She was afraid.  But too, she was naked before him, aroused from his touch, his presence.  It was a confusing conflation, each aspect blending into the next until she could no longer tell whether she was more afraid or more aroused.

A breath of cold air swept across them both and she shivered again, a vivid sense of their first meeting flashing through her mind.  And he’s engineered that deliberately, too, damn him.

“Are you cold?”

“Yes.”  He drew her to him, holding her firmly against him, and though that had caused her to step onto the balcony, it was so reassuring to be able to push once more into his strength.

The heater was a multi-bar strip that sat above the door, angled to point down on the balcony, and they were directly beneath it.  The heat wasn’t enough to eradicate the cold, but it was a soothing balm across her skin, and he was warm against her.  It was a sensuous mix and her body responded, feeling more alive, more alert.

Or maybe that was just her fear.

“Are you scared?”

“You know I am.”

He slipped one hand beneath her chin, turning her face up toward his.

“I love that you have trusted me enough to come out here.”

“You’re my Knight.  I’ll follow you wherever I must.”  She’d been looking for him for days.  It was more than a realisation: it was a promise.

“Your dark Knight.”

“Yes…” he covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, his tongue pushing into her mouth possessively, forcefully.  She melted against him, pressing her body to him, and whimpered as she opened to him.

He broke the kiss and his hand slid gently down her back, his fingers splaying wide across her naked ass.  “You still like it when I distract you.”

“Distract me, Sir Knight.”  She leant up to seek his lips, but he pulled back a fraction, his smile mischievous.

“Shall I make you beg?” 

She’d known he would say that, of course.  “I think you brought me out here just to make me beg.”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing her lips with his.

“I’d have willingly begged you inside,” she whispered, sliding her arms up around his neck and pressing herself to him again.

She felt him shudder and he moaned at her words. 

He bent swiftly and she was picked up in his arms, held to his chest as he carried her back inside.  He moved through his apartment with purpose, long strides giving in to his urgency.  She knew where he was taking her, but she begged anyway.

“Make love to me, Sir Knight, please.  I beg you,” and she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, licking softly at his skin.

In response, his fingers tightened where he held her to him, and she knew she’d have marks on her skin.  His marks on her skin.

“I will always beg you,” she murmured, and licked him again.  He growled in response, kicking open the door to his bedroom.

He paused long enough to whisk the duvet to the floor, then laid her gently in the middle of his bed.  She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms slowly up against the sheets, arching slightly as she did so.  The move was deliberate, a show for him, and he made a sound deep in his throat as he watched her. 

His fingers fumbled through the last of his shirt buttons and he pulled it off, throwing it away across the room.  Her eyes took in his body, the strong muscles of his chest and arms, the ridges of his abdominals, the thin trail of hair that disappeared down into his jeans.  But her eyes widened as she saw the lingering yellow-green bruise that ran in a line across his ribs and down over his stomach.

“My god… what happened to you?”  She rose up to her knees then forward on to all fours, one hand reaching out to touch, nervously pulling back just before she made contact.

It was impossible for him to not watch her, the oblivious display of her nude body as she showed her concern.  He glanced down at himself, having quite forgotten the injury he still had, her hand hovering hesitantly above his skin as if her touch might hurt him.

He took her hand in his and stepped forward, his knees brushing against the bed, and laid her hand against his body, over the bruise.  “You remember the first explosion?”

Her eyes lifted to his face, “I’ll never forget it.  That did this to you?”

“Not directly… it flung me against the basket.”

“My god…”  She leant in and softly pressed her lips to his stomach, kissing across the line the bruise had left.  “Does this hurt?”

“No,” well, yes… but not much, and he didn’t wish her to stop.

“My poor Knight!  Injured while defeating the dragon,” she kissed his skin gently, and his breath caught in his throat at the combined sensation of the softness of her lips and the residual ache of his bruised flesh.  She trailed her tongue down the thin line of hair that disappeared into the top of his jeans.  “I should check for other bruises,” she murmured, her breath warm against him.

She supported herself with one hand on the bed beneath her, the other coming up to the button of his jeans.  He let her tug it open then pull the fly apart.  Evidently, he thought the robust denim was enough for she saw that beneath he was nude, no underwear, and already hard for her, pushing against the material of his jeans.  With one hand she tugged his jeans down, but the progress was slow and frustrating for both of them.

“Dammit, I want to see you naked,” and so he helped, pushing his jeans down to mid-thigh.  His nakedness was suddenly obvious and she felt her breath catch.

“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” she said, running her eyes hungrily over him.

“And I, you,” but then he gasped as she took him into her mouth. 

His skin was velvety-soft against her tongue yet he was so firm as she licked him, the tip of him tasting salty-sweet with his arousal.  She slid her mouth down over him, luxuriating in the sensation and the small noises he made as she took him as deeply as she could.  She sucked and licked before drawing back to take a breath, but once wasn’t enough – she wasn’t sure she could ever have enough – and she took him into her mouth again.

It took all his control not to thrust forward, to allow her to find her own pace.  Perhaps, in the future, she might want him to be more active, but for this first time, he was determined to let her go at her own speed.  He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her warm, wet mouth around him, her tongue lapping at him, her small hand wrapped around the base of his shaft.  It was a delicious torture, enough to tease and tantalise, but her earlier begging had raised his ardour and he wanted to be the one setting the pace.

He reached down and gently lifted her from him, his cock slipping from her lips as she mewled her disappointment, but he met her with a deep kiss and the touch of his fingertips against her neck.  She responded by kneeling up, pushing back into his kiss with a delightful whimper, her hands pressing to his chest.  He broke the kiss and smiled at her, then his grin widened as he pushed her playfully back onto the bed.

She let herself fall, conscious of his eyes upon her and enjoying the hunger in his gaze.  He kicked off his shoes and pulled off each sock, then stripped off his jeans while his eyes feasted on her. 

She slipped her legs from beneath her, careful not to catch her ankle strap heels in the sheet, and reached out with one foot, letting the toe of her shoe brush lightly against his muscular thigh. 

His hand grasped her ankle, firmly but not tight, his fingers prising open the buckle and slipping the shoe from her foot.  He let the shoe gently drop as he placed a kiss inside her ankle, before resting her bare foot on the bed and holding out his hand for the other.

Obediently, she extended her leg and placed her ankle in his hand, and once more he pulled the strap free and let the shoe drop.  But this time he kept a grasp of her ankle, lifting her foot to his mouth.  He brushed his lips along her instep, watching her as he did so, and she shivered.  He placed a kiss against the top of her foot, then tightened his grip on her ankle and slowly lowered his mouth.

Her breath caught as she felt his tongue lick across her toes, but when he took them into his mouth -licking and sucking, his teeth grazing lightly beneath - she couldn’t help but squirm deliciously in response.  His grip on her ankle was steel; she knew herself held and at the mercy of his devilry, and he continued to tease her with his lips, tongue and teeth.

It was such an intense feeling, so ticklish and yet so sensuous, and he held her so dominantly and gave her no choice but to endure, until she writhed against the bed with the pleasure of it and laughed and begged, “No more, please, Sir Knight!”

With a last kiss, he lowered her foot and smiled.  “I like watching you squirm.” She could well imagine the view he’d had. 

“That is because you are dark and sadistic, Sir Knight.”

“You have no idea,” he said, and suddenly he slipped his arms beneath both her thighs and dragged her down the bed toward him.

She eep’d with the surprise of it, but he was already dropping to a kneel, pushing her thighs together and holding them up high as he bent her gently back.  Her breath caught in her throat as she realised what this meant, but she had only a fleeting moment to prepare herself before his mouth found her sex.

She was already so aroused and as his tongue licked slowly along the length of her, she could only moan with her need.  He licked again, a long, slow lick that started with his tongue pushed into her and travelled up through her folds until the tip flicked over her clit. 

“Oh god…” she gasped as he tasted her, and his tongue delved deeply inside her once more.  Held as she was, his hands firm against her thighs, she was fully exposed to his whims and he licked her again without mercy.  She rolled her head from side to side as he teased her, first probing her entrance deeply before licking hard and fast against her clit.  He was content to take his time, to torment her as he stoked her arousal, his tongue never remaining in one place for long, until she gasped: “Please, you win, you win… I beg you again… please, I need you inside me.”

He smiled against her, content with her capitulation, and rose to stand even as he pushed her legs to the side, his hand sliding down to her hip, a clear indication of what he desired.

She obeyed, turning, moving to all fours and raising her ass to him in offering, but he merely gave it a firm slap and said, “Move up.”

Again she obeyed, and even complying with his dominance aroused her.  She knew she was responding to him at a level more profound than merely the physical and it excited and fulfilled her in ways she’d never before experienced. 

The bed shifted as he moved behind her.  She lifted her ass and spread her knees to brace herself, fully aware of what he wanted from her and eager for the same, offering her body as she had also given her heart. 

He pushed inside her, his hands gripping tightly against her hips, pulling her back against him, and she shuddered with pleasure as he penetrated her.  Even in this, they matched: she’d never felt so fulfilled.

He took her slowly, fingers pressing into her as he gripped her, each thrust a deliberately controlled act, again and again as she shuddered beneath him.  He used his weight to gently push her down against the bed, still inside her, pulling her legs together beneath him as he lay over her, and slid his hands down her arms until he held her hands with his.  He pushed her hands to the bed, holding her, pinning her, then resumed his taking of her.

She angled her hips to receive him, moaning her submission as he went deeper still.  She could feel his weight on her, his heart beating as he lay against her back, and there was a comfort in it even though the sex was assertive – or because it was. 

“Are you content to be mine?” he murmured to her, his lips against her ear; she shivered at his words and moaned her assent.

As his pleasure grew so did the vehemence of his thrusts until his hips were slapping rhythmically against her ass, and each time he drove into her she whimpered her surrender to him. 

In this position each move he made rubbed repeatedly against her g-spot, and her pleasure built rapidly until her sex clenched around him as, with a wash of release, her orgasm rushed through her.

He grunted with the sensation of her constricting him, squeezing him within as she came beneath him, each push inside her more stimulating than the last, until he drove his hips against her, tensing above her, and she felt his seed flood inside her.

Afterwards, they lay a long while, unmoving, his weight upon her, and it was all she needed to feel safe.  The Autumn air had gradually permeated the apartment through the open French doors, but the heat of his body over her kept her warm.  It was another reminder of how they had met, and in that moment she realised she would forever like the cold, so long as his body was close by.

Eventually, he had no choice but to move, placing a kiss against her neck and murmuring that he wouldn’t be long.  He slipped away and closed the French doors, flicking off the heater, shutting out the cool of the night, and when he returned he lay the duvet over her before slipping beneath to take her in his arms.

In such a way she slept, held by him, his chest pushed to her back and his arm over her, his hand nestled comfortingly against her breast.

*

She awoke slowly, the light of the morning filling the bedroom, and it took her a moment to see he was already awake and watching her with an easy smile.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, and brushed his lips lightly over hers.  “Did you sleep well?”

She rolled onto her back and stretched lazily, closing her eyes and arching slightly, smiling when he couldn’t resist and trailed his hand up over her to cup one offered breast.  “I don’t think I can remember ever sleeping so well – but then, your bed is so much better than the hotel’s.  That’s probably the reason.”

He chuckled and tweaked her nipple in punishment, and she laughed playfully and snuggled in against him.

“Good morning, Sir Knight.  Did you have a good evening ravishing any damsels?”

“If you have forgotten so quickly, maybe it calls for a reminder?”

He drew her to him and kissed her slowly.  She turned to him and began to play, exulting in exploring every inch of him with tongue, lips and fingers and the noises of pleasure she could draw from him.  Where he was hard muscle beneath soft skin, she was soft and yielding and open to him.  Again she licked across his bruise, her eyes full of concern as she looked up at him, but she said nothing, simply using her mouth to show her gratitude to him.  They made love again, gently and lazily, exploring each other with the delight of fresh intimacy. 

He didn’t have to work and she still had all the time she needed, so it was late morning when he finally rolled onto his back with a satisfied sigh and pulled her in against his chest.

“Is the elephant still in the room?”

She smiled against him.  “Given how sore I am, I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

His hand snaked down her back and landed a swat on her ass.  “Not too sore, I hope?”

“It’s a good kind of sore.”

They were quiet for some time, his fingertips drawing idle circles across the upper curve of her bottom.

“How long will you be in that hotel room for?”

She grimaced.  “They’ve said it will take months, not weeks, for the insurance to be resolved.  I will find another apartment before then.”

“One with a balcony, perhaps?”

She tensed beside him a moment, then propped herself up on one elbow and gazed down at him.  “Is that an invitation, Sir Knight?”

He met her gaze with a serious expression.  “Is it unrealistic for you to move in on the morning following the first date?”

“Second date,” she corrected, and kissed his lips.

“Is that a ‘yes’, milady?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled, a smug note, and drew her to him for a deeper kiss.

Then he rolled her to his side.  “I need coffee,” he said, rising.  “Would you like some?”

“Yes please,” she stretched slowly, watching him walk naked through the bedroom, her eyes on his ass.  He pulled a silk robe from the back of the door and slipped it on, tying the belt across his flat stomach.

“It’ll just be five minutes, milady.”

“I’ll be here, Sir Knight.”

He stepped away, but an instant later he was back at the door with a playful smile, “Actually, I always have it on the balcony…”

She made a face.  “You’re going to keep insisting!”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “Do I get clothes?”

He grinned and reached behind the door to where another robe hung.  The last robe. 

“Maybe just this once,” he hooked it over his arm and walked away.  “It’ll be on the balcony when you’re ready.”

                          ***

Author's note:

Thank you for reading this series.

If you enjoyed it, please leave me a comment. If you'd like to read more of my stuff please do reach out - there's lots more where this came from.