The Dark Knight pushes his way through the tavern doors and glances about the room. His gaze quickly takes in the rough interior and the even rougher clientele. This was certainly a few steps down from his normal accommodations but he is exhausted from travel and it will do. Hardly has he settled his dusty frame on to a stool when he is approached by a tavern wench. She looks haggard and drawn and curtly takes his order, answering his questions in a shrill voice. "Well, this is a just all around pleasant place," he mumbles under his breath continuing to survey the room.
He is watching a card game with mild interest when a tankard of ale is slammed on the table in front of him. Looking up he sees another tavern wench and thinks to himself, "Now this is more like it." She is a buxom lass with fresh features and he takes his time looking her over. His eyes travel from her bare feet and legs up to the frayed hem of her skirt. The side has been torn (on purpose he's sure) to reveal a flash of pale thigh. She wears a white peasant blouse with a black corset laced over the top of it. Creamy breasts spill from the neckline and his eyes linger there before continuing up to her face. When he gets there, he nearly spews out the swig of ale he's taken. Her hair is long and blonde and in a loose braid down her back and her bare arms glow in the firelight down to where her hands are placed on rounded hips...but what has him nearly choking are her flashing blue eyes. He's never seen any quite like them and...is she angry with him?
"Seen your fill, have ya?" she asks in a low, sultry voice before turning and flouncing away. He watches the sway of her hips until she is swallowed up in the darkness. The first woman puts a plate of stew in front of him but he is suddenly filled with a hunger of a different sort. He's been to many such places in his travels and seen many a tavern wench but there is something about this one that intrigues him. Shaking his head, he tears off a chunk of bread and begins to eat his stew.
When he's nearly finished, he hears a laugh...and he knows it's hers. Lifting his head, he quickly glances about. Ah, there she is by the fireplace, and if she doesn't look like a Gypsy Queen holding court. Men are gathered around and she is teasing them. She has some kind of betting game going at which they are losing money, but they don't seem to mind. Suddenly she looks up as if sensing his eyes on her. There are those blue eyes again...piercing, assessing, teasing... She raises one eyebrow and mockingly nods her head to him. "My she is a saucy thing," he thinks. His eyes continue to roam over her body as if they have a will of their own. "Get a grip on yourself, Man," he thinks and tears his eyes away. Still they return to her again and again. He can't help but watch her as she serves the customers and flirts her way around the room. But she avoids him and he wonders how he's angered her.
The patrons begin to stumble out the doors and finally there is only he. He's tired but has no desire to leave until he speaks to her again. He hears a woman's shrill voice and then a lower one. And then he sees her...moving towards him a candle in her hand. "Do ye plan on staying with us then, Sir?" she asks in a mocking tone. The Knight has had all he can take. Grabbing her he pulls her in to his lap and slowly takes the candle from her hand, setting it on the table, never taking his eyes away from hers. She is startled he can tell. Her bosom is heaving but she remains outwardly calm. "What might your name be, Lady?" His voice comes out as a growl.
"Aye, Ye must be mistaken. I'm no Lady. My name is Penny." There it is that mocking tone again. He knows of only one thing to do. Lowering his head he claims her ripe, red lips with his own. He feels her sigh as her lips part and his tongue thoroughly plunders the sweetness of her mouth. She presses against him and he feels the soft curves of her body against the hardness of his. One hand winds its way in to her hair while the other roams across her body. The kiss goes on for an eternal moment. It is she who pulls back and he half expects to feel a hand striking his cheek.
She stands and retrieves the candle from the table. Her lips are puffy and red, tendrils of hair have escaped to frame her face but she seems unaffected except for her heaving bosom. "Come. I will show you to your room." Once again he finds himself watching the sway of her hips but this time he rises to follow her. It is torture to follow her up the stairs, remembering the feel of her in his arms. "Penny," he thinks to himself. "An odd name to be sure, but it fits her."
The Dark Knight knows that he could have her if he was willing to take her, no one would deny him...but that has never been his way. Still his body aches as he thinks of what is beneath her clothes, how her body would feel next to his. Finally she stops and pushes a door open. Stepping back, she motions for him to enter. The room is much nicer than he expected and he is immediately struck by the feminine touches. Turning slowly it dawns on him that this is her room. He faces her as she closes the door behind her and advances towards him.
With a wave of her hand she motions for him to sit on a stool by the fire. He obliges and much to his surprise she kneels and tugs the boots from his feet. Standing once more she unties the lace binding her braid and shakes her hair free to fall about her face. If he hadn't been mesmerized before, he is now as she moves across the room and picks up a small, carved wooden box. She winds a key on it and music begins to play...soft, haunting, sweet. The enchanting wench is standing before him now, just out of arms reach. She begins to dance, swaying to the music, pulling her hands through her hair and then locking eyes with him as she slowly unlaces her corset. When the corset falls free, so do her breasts. He can not seem to tear his eyes from those plump, pale globes, shining like twin moons in the firelight.
The ache that started the moment he laid eyes on her, begins to intensify. It is almost painful now and a groan escapes his lips. He glances at her face as she sways towards him. She is staring at him and winks knowingly. Temptress! How has this simple tavern wench reduced the Dark Knight to a panting page boy? Ah, but she is anything but simple. Her body attracts him but there is much hiding behind her eyes that intrigues him. He is jolted from his reverie as she leans over and puts her small hands on his knees. Her breasts are right there and so are those flashing eyes. He didn't know eyes could be that blue. Slowly she runs her hands up his legs, over his thighs. His blood seems to turn to fire beneath her touch, as she straddles his legs and she is once again in his lap.
Her hands move lightly up his arms, his neck, and entangle themselves in his hair before pulling his head down to her lips. His mouth is hard, wanting, this time, and hers is just as hungry. His arms move to encircle her. He feels her softness and her heat as she presses her body against him. The ache within him intensifies until it is almost painful. Ending the kiss, he moves his hands down to her waist and feels her shiver. Pulling her blouse free, he draws it up over her head and lets it fall to the floor. They lock eyes again and he is sure that the fire in his matches hers. She shivers again, as if in acknowledgement. One hand is on her back and with the other he cups her breast. He likes the feel of it, the weight of it. It looks so pale against his hand. He brushes his thumb across the hard pink nipple and she moans. The tables have turned and he rather enjoys it. With a smile he lowers his head and takes that sweet mound in to his mouth. She tenses and throws her head back and he can't hold back any longer. His hands, his mouth, his tongue all join in the ravaging of those creamy globes. Her fingers dig in to his arms. She writhes in his lap and even as his body responds, he is gratified to her more moans escape her lips. When he finally lifts his head, both of them are breathing hard. Her hair is wild, framing eyes dark with passion and lips red from being caught between her teeth.
Her eyes lock with his and then startling him, she laughs. It is low and husky and makes his breath catch in his throat. Jumping up, she takes quick steps away from him and laughs over her shoulder. "Catch me if you can, Sir," she teases as he bounds from the stool and advances on her. "Ah, I will catch you and then you will pay, Wench," he growls trying to corner her.
"Wench? But I thought you called me, Lady?" she teases as she tries to escape across the bed. He anticipates her move and catches her round the waist, spinning her around and tossing her on to the bed. She immediately tries to sit up but he is over her, straddling her legs and pinning her arms down above her head. She wiggles and thrashes but he is much too strong.
