"Is that a no?" he says in a low, hard voice, and instantly, I’m turned on again. Moisture gathers in my core, my scalp tingles, and every pore in my body seems to pop. I know then, my body is simply an instrument for him to play. To draw the kind of music from it that I wouldn’t have thought possible. Soaring notes, operatic highs and the kind of lows I may never recover from.
"Is it, Little Dove?" he asks again.
I shake my head this time.
"Such a good girl. Your cunt was made to be destroyed by me."
I flush, and my heart swells in my chest as a sob wells up. That’s when he slows down. He pulls out, then sinks his cock inside of me inch by inch, so I can feel every throbbing ridge of his shaft. He does so again and again. I feel his heartbeat pick up, his body shudder, then he whispers, "Come for me, sweet girl."
That tenderness, that softness I’ve never heard in his tone is all it takes. This time, the climax ripples through me like rain washing away the dirt of a long, hard summer. I slide over the edge, then cry out when he buries his teeth at the curve of my shoulder. My pussy squeezes his dick, milking him, and I feel him shoot his release inside me. As my eyes flutter down, the last thing I sense is his big body slumping down with me. When I wake, it’s to find I’m on my back, and he’s leaning over me, a bleak look in his eyes.
51
Knight
"I can’t love you. It’s not in me to love you." I begin to straighten, but she throws her arms about my shoulders and pulls me in. "I don’t believe you, Sir."
My heart stutters. She called me Sir. So, she hasn’t completely turned her back on me, yet.
"What happened to me when I was captured changed me. I’m not the man I was. I can’t feel. Can’t behave like other men do. I can’t return to everyday life and set up a home with a wife and kids. Those things are not for me."
"So, tell me what happened to you."
"You don’t know what you’re asking for."
She cups my cheek, and her touch slices through every single barrier I’ve erected since the day I was buried alive. The day I was made to feel like it was the end of the road for me. Like I was losing the very core of what I was. The day I lost my mind. The day I almost gave up hope of making it out of there alive. The day Adam came for me.
"And you’re making excuses. You’re running from your fears, Sir, like you’re running from the truth."
"Which is?"
"That whatever you do to me, I cannot stop loving you. No more than I can stop breathing or living. The day I saw you swagger in to meet Abby before you shipped out on your mission? That's the day I knew you were it for me.
"Swagger ,huh?" Despite telling myself it doesn’t mean anything, I’m male enough to be pleased she used that adjective for me.
"Is that all you heard?" she scoffs.
"I also heard that you saw the person I was before I was broken."
"And I can make you whole"—she looks between my eyes—"if you'll let me."
I chuckle, and the sound is brittle. "So, you’re the woman who’s going to fill the wound I carry around, hmm? The one who’s going to tame the bad boy, the one who’s going to redeem me and—"
"Show you what it is to live again."
"And what if I don’t want that? What if I prefer to stay in the darkness?"
"Then you’re not the Sir I dream about—the man who’s larger-than-life. The bosshole who can reduce an entire meeting room to their very basic fears. The brother who loves his sister enough to come to a party she’s thrown in his honor, even though you hated every moment you were there."
I blink. "Didn’t think I was that obvious."
"To me, you were."
"So, you can read the expression on my face. Most likely, you can interpret my gestures and read between the lines of my unspoken words, as a good employee should."
She gapes. "So that’s all I am to you? An employee?"
"And my wife—by contract. You sure do give new meaning to working for me around the clock."
She pales, then shoves at my shoulder. "Get off me."
"Thought you loved me? Thought you could put up with anything I said or did?"
"That doesn’t mean you can say anything that comes to your mind. That you can insult me, and treat me like—"
"My personal fuck-toy?"
She swallows, and her breathing grows shallow.
"That turns you on, doesn’t it? Under that wide-eyed, pink-color-loving, sunshine and rainbows and butterflies persona you love to project, you’re a submissive. A dirty girl who wants to be dominated, and handled roughly, and told what to do, and fucked to within an inch of her life."
A low gasp spills from her lips, then she tips up her chin. "Yes, I love sex with you. I love how you make me orgasm. How you handle my body, how when you look at me, it’s to the exclusion of anything else in the world. I lost my father early, missed a male presence in my life, one which you are, clearly, fulfilling."
I chuckle, then lower myself within her thighs enough that the evidence of my arousal stabs into her core. "Does that look like I’m fulfilling the role of a father figure in your life?"
She swallows. "You know what I mean. You’re not that much older than me, but you have the kind of solid presence that makes me want to lean on you. Physically, you’re much bigger than me, and you have that unshakeable core in you which makes me feel secure. You treat me like I'm your possession, like you own me, and I should hate it, but it only seems to turn me on more. I hate myself for it—"
"But you love me."
"And I hate myself for loving you, too."
"Sounds like a B-grade pop song.” I laugh.
"That’s all my feelings mean to you?"
I blow out a breath. "I warned you not to fall in love with me."
"And I told you, you would with me—" The light fades from her eyes, and she mumbles, "Guess I failed."
"But what neither of us can dispute is this." I position my cock between her lower lips and slam into her.
Her breath hitches, and her body trembles. Her moist walls embrace my dick like they’ve been waiting for it to penetrate her. Her channel flutters around me, and my heartbeat instantly shoots up.
"There it is—the language we both understand. There are no misconceptions, no possibility of mistakes, nothing lost in translation." I lower my chest into hers and bracket her between my arms. "This, when I’m inside you, and your pussy squeezes down on my cock, and your nipples are so hard they all but tear into my skin when I push my body into yours, when your eyes are so dilated I can see myself in them, and your essence bathes my shaft, and your scent intensifies until I can smell myself on you, in you, around you, imprinting in your skin, then neither of us can lie. Then neither of us needs to say a word. We can let our bodies talk, and that's when we don’t need to worry about tomorrow or the past. That's when we can give ourselves up to the sheer enjoyment of each other." I pull out and stay poised on the rim of her entrance. She wraps her legs around me, digs her heels into my back, and tries to urge me closer.