Page 142 of Ruthless Knight

The inky black swirling letters on my fair skin should shock me, but they feel so right on me, they look perfect.Everythinglooks perfect.

He catches my face and guides me back to him.

“Mine.Now you won’t forget who you belong to,” he mutters. “You’re mine.Mrs. Knight Grayson.”

With those potent words spoken, he finally, finally kisses me, sending a maddening dose of need and pleasure rocketing through me.

We kiss like we need each other to survive and like we might die if we stop. Then he sets me on the table, shrugs out of his clothes, and fucks me with the same possession.

His ruthless cock slams into me over and over again, and that’s how we continue the rest of the night.

* * *

The sun wakes me the next morning with its luminous rays.

The moment I open my eyes, and my gaze connects with the walnut wood wardrobe and the scent of musk tickles my nose I know I’m in Knight’s room.

I haven’t been in here since before the wedding. When I got back from Saint-Tropez, I didn’t want to risk being presumptuous, so I retreated to my room.

Now I’m here, but where is he?

The last time I woke up in here, he was gone, and it felt like we just had a one-night stand where I was supposed to leave after with no questions asked, no strings attached, and no expectations.

I truly hope this time won’t be like that. Last night was different. Different than even when we were in Saint-Tropez. It felt like I truly gave myself to him and bared my soul.

I roll onto my side and get my answer. My heart lifts with shameless delight when I see Knight sitting on the window bay, smoking a cigar. And good heavens is the man something to look at.

His hair is just-had-wild-sex-with-my-wife messy. His olive skin still has a deeper tan from the island sun, and with his muscles and tattoos on show, he looks like he could have walked out of a fantasy.

Truth be told, he did. He walked right out of one of mine and materialized into the vision before me.

God help me, I want him all over again.

I sit up, pulling the sheets up over my breasts, and we stare at each other for a few languid seconds of silence.

“Sleep well?” Knight asks, taking a draw from his cigar and blowing out a plume of smoke.

“Yes. You?”

“I didn’t sleep all that much. I like watching you sleep more.” He gives me a boyish grin. “You’re like a mermaid.”

I giggle. “Is that good or bad?”

“Good.” His gaze runs over me. “So, last night was intense.”

“And you seriously tattooed your name on me.”

“It will come off in about a month.” His smile brightens with mischief and charm. “That’s the sort of ink I use when people want to test out a design but aren’t sure.”

I pull my knees up to my chest, mesmerized to learn something more about him. “You did tattoos?”

“I used to.” He stretches his arms wide, showing off the display of artwork on his torso. “I did these and the ones on my leg. Jericho did the one on my back.”

I chuckle. “Wow. What else am I going to find out about you, Knight Grayson? Every day there’s something new.”

“There’s so much more. I’m sure there’s more to you too.”

“There is.” Things I want him to know and things I don’t. Like my sordid past with Scott. I’m hoping I can push that into the back of the beyond if I get the job withPeople Magazine.

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