Knight (27 page)

“When you left me.”

Holy shit. 

I collapsed against the wall, but Lyn smiled, pulling me closer, fueling the heat coursing through both of us with a bite of my lips and quick kiss. She tensed as I shoved deeper into her.

“Surprised?” Her coy words broke with a gasp. “Always told you I was loyal.”

“Waited for me?”

“No one else deserved me.”

“That’s not it.” I spoke between gritted teeth. “Be fucking honest.”

Lyn clenched me tight, squeezed. Not to intimidate and not to tease. She held on because she needed my strength.

“There was never anyone but you.”

And there never would be again. Lyn groaned as I pulled out only to pound her into the wall.

This was a moment that should have come with roses and champagne, hand fed-chocolates and whispered admissions into the dark.

Life wasn’t that kind of fairy tale.

Neither of us needed gentle. She closed her eyes and exposed her throat for my teeth. I ground my hips just to punish Lyn again and again for accepting the only thing I ever asked of her.

It wasn’t making love.

It wasn’t romance.

This was pure fucking. Carnal, voracious, selfish pounding. It connected two people in reckless passion and offered pleasure in exchange for losing our humanity in the desire of the other.

Lyn crashed against the wall, clinging to me, calling for me. I abandoned every sense of right and wrong and love and hate.

She was worse than addiction. More powerful than obsession.

It wasn’t just love.

I couldn’t exist without this woman.

I had no purpose in life but to please her, to hold her, to fuck her until she couldn’t breathe and then reward her gasps with harder thrusts and punishing dominance.

She owned me.

From the first time I saw her on stage until the day I abandoned her to my own sense of righteousness, I was hers.

The only honesty I had came from a gun at my head and her tightness wrapped around my cock. Both of those choices ended with me crippled and broken.

But only Lyn could force me to my feet to face another gun, another challenge, another mistake.

I sliced through her, earning every last whimper, cry, baited whisper for more. Every thrust met with a squeezing resistance of her desire, and every pump out echoed in her demand for me. I grunted against her, biting her, kissing her, loving her. It wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough.

I hauled her from the wall and we crashed to the floor. The hardwood was no place for a lady but a perfectly fuckable space for a vixen. A woman possessed. A seductress begging for my cock.

Her legs spread, that tight little slit impossibly bare and puffy. I didn’t wait. I plunged in her. Her legs wrapped around me, and my hands bound her waist. She spread for me, and I took advantage of every last inch of tightness.

It wouldn’t be long for either of us. The prickle began in my cock and spread, searing my balls, my spine, the base of my fucking skull. Everything I had I fucked into Lyn, and her nails dug in deeper as she shuddered in my arms.

“Come for me,” I grunted. My body slammed into hers, punishing her for the year we spent apart. “Let me feel it, Lyn. I gotta watch it.”

“Come with me,” she whispered. “In me. On me. Anywhere. Just come.”

I didn’t need encouragement. I held her tight, thrust three, four, five wild strokes into her abused slit, and then—absolute beauty.

I had watched Lyn dance. She was grace. She was class, even when stripping her clothes and delighting men who didn’t deserve to see that perfect body. Lyn balanced lust with skill and delighted every man who ever met her with the temptation of her curves and the bump of her hips.

She was beautiful when she danced.

Gorgeous when she went toe-to-toe against me.

But every time she came?

Lyn was perfect.

Vulnerable and lovely, gentle and feral. Her lips puffed and parted, calling my name. Her chest rose in a held breath. Everything within her tensed, quick and tight.

And I lost myself in her.

Like I should have done a year ago. I should have marked her as mine. I came inside her, jet after jet, and she took it all. I hardly had the strength to pump myself, but her arching hips finished it for me as I rasped my breath and strained to stay over her.

She trembled. I shook. I met her mouth with a groan, and her legs tightened around my hips, connecting us.

My mind silenced to everything but the pounding heartbeats we shared.

Lyn didn’t go still.

She rolled, and I followed, letting her guide me onto my back as she straddled my cock. I hardened even after jetting my entire soul within her.

She panted, brushing the hair from her face, but her expression wavered.

Lyn gripped my chest, her words clipped. Broken by more than just lust.

“ATF held me for thirty-six hours and wanted me to rat on Anathema. I didn’t and went back to Thorne. I told him you had messages from a traitor.”

God
damn
it. My hands tightened on her waist, but she placed a finger over my lips, preventing me from speaking.

“I was scared, Luke. I was afraid of what would happen after that fight, so don’t you fault me because you
know
how hard it is for me to admit I was fucking
scared
.”

“What did Thorne say?”

“Nothing. He didn’t believe me. And I realized…” Her fingers clenched over my chest. “I’m not safe with Anathema. So I’m with you, Luke. I believe you’re gonna keep me safe.”

I couldn’t think with her on my cock, but that promise wasn’t something that needed to be thought about. Not with her.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” I said. “Not now, not ever.”

“The Feds closed Sorceress for their investigation. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it opened again.” She weakened, needing my hands to hold her upright. “I’m here, Luke. And not because I have no other place to go. This is where I belong. I need you to keep fucking me, because this is the only goddamned thing that makes any sense.”

I wouldn’t argue. Never would argue.

“Anything you say, Lyn. It’s yours.”

She leaned over me, brushing her lips against mine she started to move. She had just destroyed me with that pussy, but one circle of her hips and wiggle of her shoulders revived me.

“Then fuck me again, Luke. I don’t want to think about anything tonight except for you.”

I never let a man fuck me on my knees before.

Hell, I rarely let a man get close enough
to
fuck me.

I gave out head because it was easy, effective, and most men knew not to tempt my fangs.

The men I fucked were few and far between. Only one of them deserved it. Only one of them I ever truly wanted.

And Luke whispered for me to get on my hands and knees.

“Gotta ask nicely,” I said. My fingers trailed over his chest. Sometime during the night I scratched him good. I bent to kiss his neck, his shoulder, and to run my tongue over the redness. His cock hardened. Luke had as much stamina as I did. I bounced quick, offering him a good look at my tits. “You want it? Ask me…”

“
Fuck
, Lyn.” His hands gripped my hips, slamming me harder against his cock. The wetness slapped our skin together—a mix of desire and cum and sweat. “Bend over for me. I gotta fuck you from behind.”

I loved taking him deep, impaling myself over and over on his impossible length. But offering anyone that much power was risky.

Except I trusted Luke. I wanted him. I craved that raw, feral possession.

Never thought I would.

I shuddered as another wave of pleasure twisted my core and clenched me from the inside out. Luke groaned.

“Can you last?” I teased. I leaned over him just to pin his lip between my teeth. “If I bend over and give you my pussy, can you last?”

“Longer than you.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

“You’ll take that cock.”

I pushed him too far, and I knew I’d love the punishment. He tossed me down, pulling out of my desperate pussy, slick with my own desire and the flood of his cum. God only knew how long we’d been fucking, but it wasn’t long enough. It’d never be enough to make up for the time we lost and the mistakes we made.

But it was a good start.

I didn’t have time to arch into my favorite yoga pose—something sultry and graceful and teasing to make him wild. Luke dove over me, fisting his cock in sheer lust.

His weight knocked the air from me. I clutched the mattress as he grunted in my ear, slapping my ass. I might have fought him, but the sting rocketed through me. I groaned as the thick head of his cock pushed at my slit once more.

This wasn’t on my knees. Luke pinned me to the bed. His legs fit over mine, and his powerful chest ground against my back. Each thrust of his hips slapped my slickened pussy and sensitive clit with his heavy balls.

He fucked hard. Fast. Entirely too deep.

Luke seized me with every remaining ounce of strength he possessed, everything I hadn’t already drained from him.

I shouldn’t have made the bet. I crumbled after a night in his arms, captured within the fierce desperation of our bodies. No one could struggle against a year of denial without weakening. This night destroyed me, decimated my defenses, and bound me in pleasure.

Luke had taken me. He had already come in me. And everything that I was, everything that I built, every shred of hatred and guarded indifference I used to protect me against his affections failed.

I’d kissed him and fell in love.

I’d fucked him and imagined our lives together, every night, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

I came for him, and he didn’t abuse that vulnerability. He called me beautiful. Perfect.

His
.

I was spent, exhausted, fucked into a quiet oblivion and dragged through pleasure and agony and need. I gripped the blankets. My body tensed and ached and tightened. I wasn’t going to fight it anymore.

Why had I
ever
fought him?

“Luke…please…” I grunted as he slammed into me. “I need you.”

He rose onto his arms, biting my neck before layering me with kisses. His weight pressed me into the bed, trapped between muscle and sheets.

I never once let myself get caught before, but this was worth it. Every impaling thrust and punishing slap of his hips against my ass didn’t trap me in weakness. It drove the air from my lungs and the silent words from my lips and rewarded me with more of him.

My pussy tightened, clenched. I angled myself, letting him possess more and more of my tightness, my heat, myself. He groaned. I lost myself in his growl.

And we came together.

Hot. Sticky. Feral.

I tightened over him, squeezing my eyes shut, whispering words I’d deny later. The demanding pleasure crippled me from the inside out, but Luke was there to hold me, steady me. His heat centered inside, and I lost all control. I wept in the utter intensity of his touch.

“Christ, Lyn.” He shuddered. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Not if he killed me first. I groaned as he pulled his cock from me, and the emptiness nearly destroyed my sanity. I collapsed against the bed. Tried to give a smile. Failed.

Luke knew it. He panted, rolling off of me only to gather my spent body in his arms.

He held me against his chest.

Neither of us spoke.

Then again, I had nothing to say but the truth, and I couldn’t face that conversation. Not yet. Not while I buzzed like I drank a whole bottle of champagne, trembled like I poured the chilled bubbles over me, and ached like I slammed the bottle against my head.

Luke pulled the blankets up. I rested against his chest, covered in him, in us, and absolutely grateful for it. We slept until morning.

And then I had to face the decisions I’d made.

I slipped from the bed to take a shower. The water was warm, but he had none of the luxuries I used to spoil myself. No separate bath and tub. No multi-speed setting on the sputtering shower head. Even his soap was harsh and drying. I let the water wash the night from my body.

I expected the shower curtain to dip. The hands at my waist. The cock against my ass.

I didn’t expect Luke to pull me towards him, cup my chin, and deliver the gentlest kiss of my life.

I liked it.

The frantic beating in my core stilled, warmed, and wetted again, despite the pounding pulse in my chest. His lips nibbled, explored, and promised too much.

But what had I done?

I had slammed my way into his apartment and practically assaulted him in crazed insults. I meant to yell at him, not to offer myself again and again to the only man I ever wanted.

I ducked out of the shower and stole his only towel. The next time we had a night like this, it’d be at my penthouse, in civilization.

If there was a next time.

God, I hoped we’d have a next time.

“Lyn.” Luke followed me, dripping, his cock obscenely hard and bobbing with his steps. He dried off with an old t-shirt and pulled on his jeans. “You okay?”