Page 65 of Devious Knight

Kade

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

Her lips taste like the most delicious fruit I’ve ever consumed. Like sinful temptation and danger and sanctuary all in one.

I knew I’d be fucked if I ever did this. Everything inside me warned me to never cross that line. Never touch her like this, outside my mind.

Now look at me. I’ve lost control and I can’t stop.

And this is just a kiss.

The craving inside my heart keeps my lips glued to hers and fuck me, I want more. I want her in my bed.

I want to rip off her cute little dress and taste her everywhere.

I want to impale her on my cock and fall into the madness that takes me when I’m speeding my motorcycle down the highway way too fast with no destination in mind.

I need to stop. But I’ve lost control and so has she.

She can’t lie to herself now and claim to hate me. Neither can I. People who hate each other don’t kiss like this.

The devious thought of how we’d fuck slithers into my mind, and that’s when I remember myself. My plans. My mission.

I’m transfixed by the goddess in my arms. The way she tastes, smells, feels, lives, but I can’t forget why we’re here.

That thought enrages me because I want to forget and take her the way I’ve always wanted to take her.

The conflict drives me mad and all I can do to fix the spell of insanity is stop.

So I do. I stop kissing her and break the spell.

It’s like we were possessed by the ghosts of desire. The people we were before I knew the truth and wanted vengeance. Me the rebel and her the good girl who should have wanted someone better than me.

When I inch away she trembles.

I open my eyes and see her beautiful face turning pale with the shock of someone who’s done something they never thought they would do. Then the same realization that got me hits her and she steps back.

The color returns to her cheeks and she touches her fingers to her lips as if checking to see what we did was real.

A little gasp floats out of her delicate doll-like mouth before she whirls around and practically runs away from me.

I watch her go out the door, leaving it open so I can see her make her escape down the flight of stairs connecting the other apartments.

I stare until I can’t see her anymore and then I touch my lips, too—they're burning with fire from the kiss.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

No. Scratch that. I know what’s wrong with me. I want her. I established that answer well before now. But just because you want something doesn’t mean you’re supposed to have it. Even if you’re the kind of person who always takes what they want.

In my case there are more important factors I can’t ignore.

I keep jumping back and forth in my mind with this girl.

Wanting her and not.

She makes me crazy. One minute I want to fuck her to death; the next I want to punish her. My mind has gone wild with the fact that she’s mine and I have her where I want her.

I want to promise myself that what happened just now can’t happen again but the problem is that I now have a taste of her.

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