Page 41 of Wicked Knight 2

Now those months felt like a lifetime ago.

“Jesus.” Maxim took a handful of my breast and leaned forward to suck on my pebbled nipple. “So beautiful.” He switched to the other side, holding it tight as if he were afraid I would disappear.

The skin-to-skin contact was enough to send me down the usual frenzied spiral. As if he knew what I craved, he wrapped my legs around his waist, walked me past the bed, then caged me against the wall. His kissing was raw and desperate. Maybe a part of him remembered me, remembered all our nights apart.

I got so lost in his syncopated breathing, the hard beating of his heart, and the heat between our bodies, that I didn’t think about what would come next. When he pinned both my wrists over my head and powered into me, I yelped in surprise. I’d forgotten how big he was. I’d forgotten what it was like to have him inside me, pressing against my walls with demanding thrusts.

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin?” He looked at me with terror in his eyes.

Luca was my first.

“Not this time.” I smiled at him. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“If all we have is now, I don’t want to waste it,” he muttered. His hips rolled into me, slow at first, while he watched my reaction. “I’ve been dreaming of you.”

His searing thrusts quickly drove me to the edge. He cupped my ass and positioned me farther up the wall so he could have better access, then pressed his shaft to my entrance and pumped hard into me again. Jesus. He was a force of nature. The last few years had made him rough and ruthless, but I didn’t care. I wanted him in whatever form I could have him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as my core tightened in anticipation of the inevitable. With every pass, he fanned the flames lapping at my G-spot. And then I couldn’t contain it anymore. My walls squeezed tight as an orgasm ripped from my core through the rest of me. The avalanche of pent-up desire was like a fire I couldn’t contain. It rippled through me over and over in a myriad of sensations, until there was nothing left to feel, and my legs turned to Jell-O. If Maxim hadn’t been holding my entire weight, I would’ve landed on the floor.

“You’re not real.” I panted a breath. “You can’t be.”

“Hmm. Fuck.” Maxim grunted against my neck as he found his own release and spilled his hot cum inside me.

I stayed in his arms with my cheek pressed to his forehead and my heart beating a million beats per minute. A whole minute went by before Maxim pulled away from the wall and carried me to the bed. When he climbed in next to me, he gathered me close to him. I opened my mouth to ask if that round of sex had blown his mind the same way it had done to mine, but my eyes fluttered closed, and I couldn’t open them again.

The bed shaking woke me from my deep slumber. I sat up and shifted my body to get away from Maxim as he thrashed around in his sleep. He seemed to be having a nightmare.

“Maxim.” I shoved at his shoulder. “Wake up.”

“You chose this.” He winced with his eyes closed. “Running makes it worse. You were always going to end up here.” He continued to mutter a bunch of incoherent things. His eyes watered. But no matter what I did, he didn’t wake up. “The punishment for killing an innocent girl is death. I’ll see you in hell.”

“Luca,” I called out. “Wake up.”

“Fuck.” His eyes flew open, and he jumped out of bed, rubbing his chest and glaring at his hands as if looking for something.

“It was just a nightmare.” I crawled across the mattress and placed a hand over his heart. “You’re okay. Just a nightmare,” I repeated.

“I know.” He picked up my hand, kissed it, and headed for the bathroom.

I sat on the bed. Bullet wounds? I could patch those up. But this psychological trauma? That was outside my medical scope. I knew so little about it. What was he dreaming about? Was he remembering something? With my heart up in my throat, I slid off the bed and padded over to the en-suite. When I entered, he stood over the sink, shut off the water and rammed a bottle of pills back into the medicine cabinet. He lifted his head and met my gaze in the mirror.

When I was in medical school, I read a paper about amnesia due to physical trauma to the head. Not everyone had the same symptoms or recovery time. According to the research, some people never got their memories back. I wanted to tell Maxim who he really was, but I was afraid the new information might make things worse.

“Do you get headaches often?” I asked.

He scoffed, then turned around to lean on the sink. “All the damn time.”

“The nightmares?”

“Those too.”

“Can I take a look?”

“No.” He walked past me on his way to the room.

“It could be serious.” I followed him.

When he reached the bed, he turned around to face me. “What are you even looking for?”

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