Page 40 of Knight

He leans over the console, his finger under my chin and his touch drives me insane. I want to push his hand away but it’s like being around him freezes my brain. The part that tells me not to do something is useless around him. Is he my kryptonite? My delicious red apple? My snakebite?

My poison.

His lips come closer. “I do know how to make you come. Hard. Don’t I, Medusa?”

“Don’t,” I warn, but it’s more of a whisper, my heart the only bass booming in his car.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t act like you care. Don’t act like you don’t think I—” I pause, finding the courage to say it again. “You said I killed your father. Do you think that? Truly?”

“If not you, then who?” If he moves an inch, our lips will meet and I’m like a puppy with a treat dangling right in front of me.

I hesitate, the King in my space, me in his, but I push the words out. “You.”

“You want to know what I think?” He’s quick to respond, a cold hand hitting my thigh, pushing a leg to the side. My right leg hits the side of his door like he’s tossing aside a log but that ravenous look on his face makes any anger subside. “I think you’re as wet for me now as you were this morning.”

Two thick, long fingers come between my legs and he presses them against the fabric of my boyshorts. The only thing separating his skin from my clit. I wonder if he can feel me throbbing through my clothes. If he can feel that he was right. I am wet for him, my body betraying me again and showing how badly I want the touch of the King. And he gives me just that. His touch.

A small gasp escapes my lips when he pushes a cold hand into the band of my shorts.

“Damien,” I reach for his hand but he pins it to the headrest, his fingers finding my folds and … fuck … his touch. The way he moves his fingers like he knows exactly how to play me makes me stop. A moan escapes my lips, his wet fingers slick and quick over my nub and my hand hits the glass when his fingers move lower.

“I meant what I said, Rowland,” he growls, a huskiness in his voice, his eyes on me while I squirm and writhe against his hand. His cold palm presses against my clit when he pumps his fingers inside me. There’s no friction, nothing stopping him from having his way. If my tongue wasn’t stuck to the roof of my mouth, if my body wasn’t on fire, I’d stop him. God, who am I kidding? This feels way too good to stop. “No one sees you like this,” he growls. “Not even him.”

It sounds like he’s back to being his aggressive, possessive self and it only makes this hotter, the way he’s pushing inside me, his fingers hitting my wall. “I th-thought, we were over.” It’s hard to speak with my shorts around my thighs. I’m not sure how they got there, Damien with full access to my dripping wet hole.

“I’ll tell you when we’re done, Rowland.” He curls his fingers and it makes the whole car blur, my head falling back against the seat.

But I still have some fight in me, and I know just where it’ll lead. “Fuck you, Damien.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.” Air passes my chest when he lifts the shirt I’m wearing, his hand leaving my wrist, coming to a perky, beige nipple. When he takes it between his fingers it’s like a release and when he kisses me again, I don’t know if I can hold back. “Is that what you want? To fuck me? You’re still mine, Jo,” he growls against my lips. “Now come for me.”

His words are like magic because I do. Right then and there, all over those long fingers and I can’t fight back my loud cry, “Oh my … god!” Damien stops moving his fingers but he keeps them stiff and I can’t help but buck against them, my body shaking in orgasmic bliss. He smirks, my cheeks filling with heat, my body overflowing with desire. I’m damn near breathless when he pulls his fingers from my wetness, sticking it in his mouth like he finished eating a pastry. “Any more questions?”

My body freezes, reality hitting me like the coldness washing over me when he moves back in his seat. I’m speechless, and it’s not only from that mind-blowing ‘O’.

Damien turns on a bit of music, an old Ramones song and it only makes this confusing as fuck moment perfect. With my head hitting the backrest, I pull up my shorts, fighting the smile coming across my face. I don’t want to believe that we’re back to whatever it is we were before, I’m not that naive. But for now, I just want to chill in this moment. In my post-orgasm radiance brought on by the King.

* * *

“Jo?”

A hand on my shoulder stirs me awake and fuck, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. The sky is dark, Damien still in the same spot I left him. Sitting up, I rub my eyes. I must be more tired than I realize.

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as I get my bearings and I’ll confess, waking up to that beautiful face is something I can get used to. “The barista drove by, they closed early.” He tilts his pointy chin towards the road.

Right. We’re breaking into MOCHA. The real reason I’m here. Pushing the curls out of my face, I take another look at my surroundings. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.”

“A few hours?”

“You looked like you could use it,” he smirks. “Not my fault I give orgasms that put you to bed.”

My mouth flattens into a straight line and he chuckles, that stupid rolling sound barrelling through me. “Was that your plan all along?”

Damien starts the car. “Get it together, Rowland. We have work to do.”

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