Page 23 of Knights Game

Her eyes radiate emotion, and I can tell she’s just as pissed off with her body as she is with me.

“See you around, sunshine.” And just because I’m a fucking arsehole, I smirk and wink at her, and the beautiful blonde pushes off the wall, sticks her middle finger up then struts out of the steam room as my eyes fixate on that beautiful arse of hers. The door shuts behind her, and I remain stoic as the steam fills back up. Running my hands through my hair, I tug at the roots.

Anything to take my mind off my blue balls.

It’s 4 a.m., and I’m standing in the shadows of her garden looking through the sheer curtains into her dimly lit bedroom. She’s restless, thrashing under the covers, her pale smooth skin on display from the parts of her body that aren’t covered by white cotton. I’ve found myself here most nights at around this time. Because that’s when the nightmares usually wake her.

Some days her screams wake up her roommate who comes running in to comfort her. Others it’s to a sudden gasp as she wakes leaping out of bed before dropping to her knees and sobbing.

Fucking sobbing. And each tear that drops is like a paper cut to my heart. Death by a thousand cuts, her tears the knife.

Layla is being haunted by something other than me.

Tonight though, my sunshine does something different and…surprising.

She kicks off her covers, her hand on her breast, and she squeezes her nipple.

Fuck.

I stand stock still in the shadows, pleading with the devil that she’s about to do what I think she is.

Blood jumps to my cock, as her hand drops below her shorts and into her underwear. I readjust my trousers as she pumps her fingers, plunging them in and out of herself, her legs pulling together as she climbs towards her climax, the other hand pulling at her nipples.

I note how much she enjoys tugging at the little pebbled nubs, and it takes everything in me not to crash through her window and place my lips on hers and taste her. I palm my length through my trousers and squeeze.

She reaches into the top drawer and grabs a vibrator and pulls her shorts off. I unzip my fly and take my cock in my hand.

I’m crossing a line, but I don’t care, because when it comes to this woman, I don’t think, I act. I worry about the consequences after, which is the opposite to who I am.

I pump once, twice, against my solid length as she parts her lips and pushes the vibrator into her waiting pussy. Her back arches off the bed as the vibrator hits the delicious spot deep inside her.

She moves the toy in and out, and then holds it against her, the tip resting on her clit, while I’m fucking my hand. She comes, her body contours and her expression is euphoric. My come explodes out of me into my hand as I groan into the silent night.

I’m breathing heavily as Layla pulls out her vibrator and wipes herself off with something from her top drawer. She climbs back into bed. I don’t move as I watch her eyes grow heavy and she falls back into a more restful sleep.

I pull out my light grey silk pocket square from my suit jacket breast pocket and clean myself up. Pulling out my phone, I walk quietly to the large bay window of her bedroom, the window cracked open, the soft curtain billowing in the wind. I tug the fabric to one side and take a picture of my sleeping angel. The vibrator sitting proudly on her table in the background. Ileave my pocket square on her windowsill then I do something reckless.

I pull up the number that Roman gave me after the spa and send a message.

8

Layla

Next time I’m coming in, sunshine.

Unknown Number

My heart races as I read the text from the unknown number, which includes a picture of me sleeping.

Sunshine.

He was watching. He was here.

Fuck, he was watching. Did he see that…

I look at the picture again and see it. My vibrator.

That sick bastard.

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