Page 13 of Knight

“You really want me to go?” I choose my words, voice shaking as Damien hardens underneath me. I don’t know what game we’re playing here but I miss him so much I don’t want it to stop. “It hasn’t even been a week since we were fucking on your dad’s bed.”

“And I told you to leave when the old man croaked.” His voice is louder in my ear, a deep roll, his cold fingers gliding up to my shorts. There’s a lump in my throat, his words bringing me back to that morning.

Looking back, I look in his eyes to see if he’s fucking with me. Is this some fucked up foreplay? Is that why I can feel myself throbbing just as hard as he is? His eyes don’t make it any easier to catch my breath but it doesn’t look like he’s joking. Not one bit.

My jaw clenches, standing up. “I thought you meant the lakehouse. Not your entire life.” My eyes drop to the outline in his slacks and I’m surprised he can be this hard with whatever’s in his system. Looks like that shower did help. As mad as I am, as fucked up as I feel, seeing him like this only brings back memories that make me clench my legs. When I look back into his droopy eyes, he has a smirk on his face. Fuck. He caught me looking. I stand up straight, owning up to it as I say, “Looks like your cock doesn’t want me gone.”

“Looks like you remember what I’m good at.” Damien rises from his seat, swaying as he does before he presses me against the shelf, my back to him. “Or do you need a reminder?” His hand goes through my curls, pulling my head back until his mouth hits my ear. “Do you remember how it feels to have me buried deep inside you? Do you remember what you sound like when you’re begging for mercy from my big, hard—”

“What are we, Damien?” The words fall out of my mouth like a cork on a champagne bottle. I want him so bad but this hot and cold thing has me confused. Are we still … us?

He chuckles, his fingers tugging on the ribbon around my neck. “We’re fucked.”

Trying to turn to him, he doesn’t let me, his warm, hard beast pressing into my ass, his firm pecs against my back. He tugs on my strands and it feels good when he does, his body pressed against mine. A position we’ve been in time and time again. There’s something about being at his mercy that makes the butterflies in my stomach multiply. My voice comes out a murmur, a finger sliding down my spine, “I mean it. What are we?”

“We’re nothing.” He tugs the front of my halter down, my tits pressed against the cold wood.

His words contradict what he’s doing but it doesn’t stop my eyes from blurring in confusion. Doesn’t stop my voice from shaking when I ask, “Then what the fuck are we doing?”

“You’ve already taken so much from me, you might as well give me this, Medusa.”

“It’s Jo, or did you forget that too?”

“Oh, I know your name, Joelle.” Warmth hits my neck when he says it, the l’s hanging off his tongue like honey. It stirs my insides, his words so comfortingly cold and I can’t settle on how I feel. “I also remember how good you sound when you scream mine.”

My dress is at my waist, his bulge throbbing on my ass and I’d give anything to have Damien inside me again. He turns me around, his eyes on my round breasts like a hungry animal. His words still ring in my head and while my body wants this, I have to ask, “You really think I killed your father?”

A whoosh of air brushes on my folds when he tugs my shorts down to my knees. His eyes meet mine, his lips inches away when he replies, “Didn’t you?”

Heat floods my body and I push against his chest. He stumbles, steadying himself.

No.

Is that why he hasn’t called? Hasn’t said one word to me since that morning? Why he’s protecting me from the cops?

He really thinks I did … that?

Damien laughs again and it only angers me more as I straighten my outfit, my eyes blurring. He spreads his arms wide as I tie the ribbon around my neck, reaching for my jacket. “C’mon Medusa, nothing you haven’t done before.” Grabbing my hand, he pulls me closer, his lips just inches from mine as we tumble back against the desk. Wrapping his arms around me I’m in his clutches. He grabs me by my arms, his hold tight, nails digging into my skin through the leather on my arms. “Admit it. Isn’t that why you’re with the King? To topple my kingdom? I knew it when you came to Eden. I fucking knew it. But that pussy was too good—”

Pushing out of his sloppy hold, my hand comes to his face before I register where it’s going. It shuts him up, his head whipping to his right. I back away as Damien’s laughter begins again. It’s devilish. One fit for a maniac as he keeps laughing right into his father’s chair. His throne.

He really thinks I did it. He thinks I’m the reason his dad is gone. It’s like all the trust we built never existed. It’s like the last month never happened.

“Yeah, that’s right. Run,” he says, leaning back into the chair.

And I do. I get the fuck out of there while I can still move, trying to block his words out as I close the office door with a slam.

My back hits the door, sweaty palms press against the dark paint. I’m trying to keep my world from spinning, my legs from giving out. Damien’s left me even more breathless than the first time and my confidence is shot.

Did I do it?

Did I kill Sebastien King?

My mind is in a daze, his words floating around my head, images of that morning flickering in my mind.

“Get the fuck out of here!”

Did he mean his life? Did I do the unthinkable?

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