Page 81 of Knight

We’re animals with each other. Animals without each other. It’s what I want. What I need.

“Harder,” I’m moaning against his lips, his body smooth and hard on top of me. It’s true. He’s fucking away the pain, blurring my dark memories.

“Say it, Jo,” he’s panting, his thrusts more frantic and needy, his hand under my chin, forcing me to look in his eyes. His other hand grips my ass as he pounds into me, my body ricocheting off his. “Say it!”

“Damien!” My loud moan surprises me but I’m too in pleasure to care. He keeps my chin tilted towards him, that look of sheer lust on his reddened, sweaty face. It only helps me ride this wave like a skilled surfer. Fast and hard and it keeps rippling through me the more he thrusts until …

“Fuuuck,” he lets out a loud monstrous groan, Damien pumping hard into me. “Fuck, Jo.” His motions slow to hard, deep, thrusts until he’s able to catch his breath.

When he does, he kisses my smirk, his teeth sinking into my lip as he pulls away before he grins. He’s staring at me like a prized painting. Like a gold medal. “You know you’re mine. And I’ll get you to believe that. You just wait.”

* * *

“You’re kidding me, right?”

I’m holding up the contents of what was inside that black sparkly bag.

We’re laying on the rug, Damien eating a fry from one of the many bags around us, a smirk on his face. He did work up an appetite. A good one. I’ve devoured the soup, moved onto the burrito before Damien rewarded me with … this.

Between my fingers is a black silk robe. It looks luxurious. Smooth and expensive. It’s even monogrammed. Though I’m not impressed at the word he picked.

“What?” He smirks and it makes me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

“It says Medusa.” I throw it at his face in a playful gesture but he catches it with his ninja reflexes and tucks it beside him.

“Would you prefer if it said ‘King’s’?” he takes another fry out of the bag, chewing it while it hangs out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’d prefer it if it said my name,” I purse my lips. “Or nothing at all.”

“Put it on.”

“No.”

“Put it on, Jo.”

“You’re so goddamn pushy.”

“You like it.”

I’m starting to wonder if I should have given in to what we just did. It was hot. Raw. Totally us. But did I just admit to liking this twisted torture?

Now I’m ignoring his comments. “Why do you still call me that? You want me to say I’m yours, yet you don’t even use my real name.”

“I just did.”

“Yeah, you pick and choose.”

Damien chuckles, “Wish you weren’t so fucking delicious when you’re mad.” I glare at him but that only makes him smirk. “That’s why I call you Medusa.” He stares at me while he continues, “The day I met you. At the train station … ”

“So you do remember that.”

“Your hair was wild. And that look in those … weird golden eyes, it reminded me of Medusa. A look that could kill.”

I’m speechless. That explanation gives a whole new meaning to the name that’s tormented me for weeks. I’m not even sure if some people at school know my real name. It’s either Medusa or the Grim Reaper. Now that I know the true meaning of that name, it’ll carry less of a sting. In fact, it warms my little icy heart.

“You’re such a dick,” I say, a smile growing on my face.

“Now, will you put that thing on?” he asks. “You’re ruining Christmas.”

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