Fate of a Royal (Lords of Rathe, #1)(49)

I’m not scared to admit when something is too much for me, and this is. I feel sticky and violated, and as every second passes, I want to run even more. His tongue dives inside me, and I yelp loudly, my back arching off the ground and my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I would give anything to grip on to something, to feel anything!

My hands finally slam onto the ground, and I try to squeeze whatever I can to help me roll through the confusion of pain and pleasure when the ground beneath me turns to silk. Wait a minute. Why is it silk?

My eyes slightly crack open as the hooded figure disappears, and as every second passes, the bridge turns into my TV and the hooded figure that was once flying up above me is now a real man. A hoodie covers half of his face, though, the outside moonlight barely showing the sharpness of his jaw.

“Did you sleep well, Lon?”

I go to scream, fear prickling down my neck, but he slams his hand over my mouth, forcing me back onto my bed. He turns his head to the side, inhaling deeply as he moves from the crook of my neck up to my temple.

“Damn,” he murmurs against my cheek, so close the warmth of his breath falls over the shell of my ear. “You taste about as good as I thought you would. Only one thing could make you taste better. Know what that is, my little doll?” His free hand buries itself in my white hair, and he gives a little tug. “My cum mixed with yours.” He groans into my neck. “I can fucking taste us now.”

I should bite into his hand to try to break free, but I don’t.

I should shove against him, but I don’t.

I should want him off me and away and demand to know how the hell he got into my room and who the fuck he thinks he is…but I don’t.

A sense of verity washes through me, easing the tension in every muscle until I’m nothing but loose limbs and a needy cunt. It’s twisted and all sorts of fucked up, but I want him right where he is, hovering above me with his legs between mine. I’ve dreamed of this, literally, but I’m not dreaming now.

Knight is here in my room, and there’s this deep, penetrating ache swimming inside me that screams I need him to stay.

My expression must give me away because Knight’s lips lift into a small smirk and the hand pressed to my mouth slowly eases. He drags his fingertips across my lips as he frees me, but my body has a mind of its own, turning and chasing the contact of his skin on mine. Desperation has my mouth watering, and only once my tongue flicks along the tips of his fingers do my lungs allow me to breathe. It’s a full breath and it’s all Knight. His scent, his flavor. Him.

My head swims as a delicious need to be closer beats against my temples. It’s as though there are torn tethers deep within me, revealing themselves for the first time as the strain and stretch of an invisible force reaches for him, begging for him, screaming sharply in the dark corners of my mind.

Mine, mine, mine, it cries and a sharp gasp whistles past my lips, my tongue rolling across them.

“So needy,” he muses, offering his thumb, only to deny me at the last second.

I should be embarrassed at the whimper that escapes, but I’m not.

Knight’s eyes are bright in the darkness of my room, and they only grow more vivid at the desperation leaking out of me.

“Does my little doll want to taste me as bad as I wanted to taste her?” he purrs, that hand trailing down my neck and across my collarbone. He lowers his lips there, licking the small divot with a deep groan. “I’m gonna mark you right fucking here … gonna mark you all over in ways not even your nightmares could comprehend, my Little London.”

A shaky breath pushes past my lips, and when my legs fall open farther, Knight’s eyes slice right where I want him most. His tongue flicks along the tip of his teeth and I swear, they’re sharper than I remember, but I don’t have time to wonder if I’m right because in my next breath, his long fingers are plunging inside me.

“Fuck,” I croak.

“Don’t worry. I’m about to.” He shoves deeper, twisting his wrist so his thumb is applying pressure to the ring of muscle no one has ever pushed past before, and I cry out.

Knight dips down, cutting off the sound with a crash of his lips on mine.

We moan together, and when my hips lift to wrap around him, he lowers his body, tearing his hand free and grinding his length against me, his zipper cutting into my soft skin. I welcome the sting, rolling my hips against his and he growls, tearing away. He shoves my legs from his body, lifting onto his knees.

“Up,” Knight snaps, hands working on his belt and jeans, allowing them to fall around his muscular thighs.

I scramble in the bed, staring as he slides backward a bit to make room for me, and when he reaches forward with those long arms, his palm locking tight around the back of my neck, I know what he wants.

I shift onto all fours and crawl the short distance to him, transfixed as his hands dip inside his briefs. He frees himself, squeezing around the base of his cock.

Like I knew he would be, he’s long and thick and with a perfect little curve from base to tip.

He jerks himself once, and my tongue presses at my top lip, rolling, eager to swipe along the glistening spot now staring back at me.

“Take me,” he demands, a roughness to his tone that has my nipples sharpening into painful peaks. “Show me how good you can be for me.”

He doesn’t wait for me to lower, but pushes my head down, and I open eagerly, sealing my lips around the tip, licking the pre-cum clean.