Page 71 of Knights Game

“Find me. Wherever I am, just find me and tell me, and I’ll make it stop.”

I let out an incoherent moan as he adds a finger inside me, then another one and works me to the brink of falling. Shutting my eyes tightly against the onslaught of pleasure, I cry out as he slams his mouth to mine in a kiss that I feel in my bones before he repeats, “Promise me, sunshine.” Ecstasy runs through me, my muscles clenching as an orgasm comes from nowhere.

My eyes fly open as I cry out, “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

He stares at me, and I stare right back, determined not to break away from his dark lust-filled eyes. “Now promise me again, when you’re not coming all over my fingers.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it, Layla. The fact that you hurt yourself, is—” He stops himself, his jaw clenching. “It’s abhorrent to me.”

“I don’t do it often.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“I promise.” I drop my head.

“Don’t be ashamed for doing the thing you need to do to survive, but please tell me next time.”

“Okay.”

He nods, pleased with my response, leaning forward kissing me before pulling back. “The car is picking us up at 7.30.”

“Will there be food?” I ask, my stomach already complaining.

“It’s a gala dinner, Layla, yes, there will be food.”

I shrug. I’ve not been to one of these before.

“Did you get a dress?”

“No.”

His eyes flash with annoyance.

“I made Roman drop me here, he said he’d sort it,” I say quickly, not wanting the usual Luca to make an appearance. I like seeing this side of him. He seems more…Present.

Bearable.

“You sent Roman dress shopping?” His grin is roguish, and I grab the bottle of shampoo. He watches me as I squeeze it in my hand and then return the favour and wash his dark hair. “I bet he loved that.” He moans, closing his eyes. “Harder.”

“Always harder.” I dig my fingers into his scalp scrubbing.

He peels an eye open, “Are you flirting with me, Miss Johnson.”

I gasp, looking affronted at such a ridiculous thing to say. “I’d never do such a thing, Mr Knight.” Then I smirk at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, I like rough sex, no, we haven’t got time.”

I pull at his roots, and he hisses, his eyes opening wide.

“That’s not what I was going to ask, get your head out the gutter.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, little lamb, my cock’s been rock hard since stepping foot in this shower—”

“I noticed.”

“Around you my head is always in the gutter. You’re lucky that I haven’t pushed you to your knees.”

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