Page 15 of Knight's Last Chance

I nip at her earlobe. “Did you ever touch yourself while watching me?”

“No,” she whispers, but I catch the lie in her voice, so I angle my hips and grind my cock into her sex, the move rubbing at her clit and making her wild, thrashing under me to chase the feeling.

“The truth, Rhea!”

“Once,” she cries out, dragging her nails down my back. “Once when you . . . you . . . came into your living room from the shower in just a towel, and . . . Oh!”

“And what?” I manage through gritted teeth.

“You . . . sat down on the couch with a beer, and the towel fell open.”

Fuck, if only I could go back to that moment and see the girl next door play with herself as she watched me. I can’t even imagine the thoughts that ran through her mind at the time, but I would give anything to know.

She doesn’t have to imagine anymore—neither of us do—not when we have the real thing now.

My body strains with the need to come, and I can tell I am not going to last long, so I slip my finger between us and stroke her clit. I pump my cock into her, faster and harder while stroking the little bundle of nerves rapidly with a thick digit until we’re both falling over the edge.

We come apart together. She screams, her voice raw and pitched, and I come with a roar, spilling my seed into her pulsing sex. Her walls squeeze me so fucking tight as she climaxes, it’s a wonder the circulation to my dick isn’t cut off as she milks my seed into her womb.

“Mine,” I grunt roughly, breathing heavily into her neck as I punch my hips several times into her wetness. “You’re mine now, Rhea.”

Our mutual aftershocks go on and on, at least that’s how it feels until I drop next to her trembling body. I lay down beside her, breathing hard, and it takes a few seconds to catch my breath. I brush my lips over Rhea’s shoulder before getting up to head to the bathroom.

I clean up quickly then walk back into the bedroom with a warm damp towel and clean away the evidence of our lovemaking from her body. I return the towel to the bathroom before rejoining Rhea in bed and maneuvering us under the covers.

She doesn’t say a word when I settle beside her and wrap my arms around her delicate body, pulling her flush against me. Her silence unnerves me a little, but I do my best to push it down.

Do you want to run? It’s at the tip of my tongue, but I force the question back.

Why would she want to leave now that I’ve shared myself with her more than I have with any other woman in my life. A year ago, I didn’t think she was ready to attach herself to me so soon after escaping an abusive life with her parents. She was only finally starting to live her life, but now . . .

No, she’s mine now!

The silence stretches for a long time, and I think she’s fallen asleep when her breathing becomes even, but she proves me wrong when she breaks the silence.

“What do you think happened to the man she fell in love with? How did he die?”

“Huh?” I ask confused. “Who are you talking about?”

“The heiress who jumped off the cliff after her lover died,” she whispers, her words catching me off-guard. “Do the stories ever say what happened to the man?”

“The story focuses more on the girl, but some versions say that the man was killed while trying to protect her.”

“I see,” she whispers, burrowing deeper into my embrace.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I just . . . I feel sad for the girl. In all versions of the story. She might have jumped from the mountain cliff, but she died of a broken heart when she couldn’t be with the man she loved.”

“It’s just a story, Rhea,” I assure her. She’s really thinking too deeply about this.

“You’re right,” she concedes, her voice growing drowsy and sluggish. “It’s just a story.”

She falls asleep before me, and I spend a long time watching her sleep in my arms. It’s almost dawn when I finally fall asleep.

When I wake up next, Rhea is gone.

Chapter Seven

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