Brutal Knight

Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

My whole life I'd been exploited and controlled by the men around me.

My father and the dangerous, sick men in Cuba.

Once I thought that was all over, Rook swooped in, taking their place. And even though he'd given me a lot of freedom, he still used me to get back at Knight.

And now, he'd signed my life away to Knight, for something in return.

Did he ever even care about me? Or was I only a chess piece to him? To move around his board until he was willing to sacrifice me for something more valuable.

And now, Knight was making it clear that he had no intention of letting me have my freedom.

When would this ever stop?

I wanted to murder Knight all over again.

Tearing myself away from his hold, I grabbed the gun. Aiming for his face, I yanked the trigger. Again and again and again, click, click, click, click .

Knight stared at me, his eyes wide, the pulse in his neck hammering.

Goddamn , it felt good to see the fear in his eyes.

I gave him a ferocious, feral grin, loving the surge of power flowing through me. If only I'd had the will to really hurt him. I threw the gun to the floor. "You took the bullets out, remember?"

Grabbing me by the waist, he hoisted me up into the air and threw me onto the bed.

"And if there'd been one still in the chamber?" He climbed on top of me.

"I'd have killed your pretty little ass now, wouldn't I?" Of course there was no bullet in the chamber; Rook had fired it. But the fury was still there inside me, clawing at my chest and insides, needing to get out. "I'd have laughed as I watched your head explode." I tilted my head to the side, going straight for the throat. "Just like I'm sure you did, when you killed my parents."

His face shuttered, closing off all emotion. "You want to talk about your parents? The people who sold you for sex and got you hooked on heroin?"

"At least they were there for me when you were gone! I had no one else, Knight."

"You were just a kid!" he roared to life, his hand tight on my shoulders, his eyes wild and manic. Gone was the lack of emotion –– it poured out of him in waves. "They fucking sold you, all so they could have a bigger fix."

"They were sick, Knight. They needed compassion."

"They used you before they ever started those drugs."

"At least they took care of me. At least I had a roof over my head, food to eat. So many girls had to turn tricks on the streets. But my dad worked hard, rising up in the ranks for Abuelo to keep us safe.”

"I did that!"

"What are you talking about," I dismissed him. "You had nothing to do with my parents’ money."

"Not true, Tatiana." His voice was suddenly serious, and I knew that he was telling me the truth.

My world stilled, my heart in my throat. "What?" My voice, a hoarse whisper, and I hated it. Hated how weak I became when I was with Knight.

His hold on me softened, and he pulled back, climbing off me to lean against the back wall. "I did that, Tati." He rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly looking very tired.

"You did what, Knight?"

He didn't answer, but stared at the bed. I noticed the darkness in his gaze, the regret in his eyes. I moved to settle next to him and we both sat like that in silence, staring out over the room.

It was chilling, how alike it was to my bedroom in Cuba. With the mint green walls and the checkered floor, all that was missing was the window where Knight used to sneak in.

"Remember how you used to climb into my room while I was sleeping?" I said. "You would slide into bed and hold me until morning."

Eyes still on the orange flowered bed cover, he half smiled. "Your bed was right across from the window. The way the moonlight lit up your face, you looked like an angel. My angel."

"I have to admit something to you." I fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket. "I was never asleep; I was always waiting for you."

He wrapped an arm around my neck, tucking me into his side. "I know."

I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent. It reminded me of the salty ocean. Of home. Of safety and security.

Of a space where I actually belonged, in a world where I didn't belong anywhere else, except as a pounding mat for some man's sick tastes.

"Please, Knight. Tell me the truth. I think I deserve it."

"You do." He kissed the top of my head thoughtfully. "Even if it's painful."

He was silent and I waited with bated breath for the guillotine's blade to fall.

"Your father was a shit worker. It wasn’t a big deal, many of Abuelo's workers were like that. They expected to do little and get paid a lot." He sighed heavily, rubbing his chin across the top of my head. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to soothe me or himself. "If I hadn't intervened, your family would've been on the streets."

I pulled back to look into his eyes, my heart in my throat. "All the promotions he got?"

"I made a deal with my abuelo." His throat bobbed. "The money your father so called earned, it came from my bank account."

I blinked.

Again.

Reality turned, shifted, twisted.

Flipped upside down.

My throat clogged, tears threatened to spill from my burning eyes.

It was right then that Knight owned me now. I could never pay him back for all the things that he'd done for me.

"Hey," he soothed, his palm cupping my jaw, his gaze burning into mine. "It's okay. That’s the past. There's no need to think about that."

I frowned, shaking my head. "I have to repay you."

"No."

"Seriously, Knight. I can't owe you like that."

"Sure, Tatiana," he scoffed, "because heaven forbid someone helps you."

"I accepted your help all the time," I protested. "More than enough."

“And tell me, how long has it been since you've accepted someone's help now?"

"The other day. Someone opened the door for me."

"That was someone just trying to get into your pants."

"You're such an asshole! And that's pretty gross, considering it was a kid. His mom was teaching him manners."

"Maybe his mom wanted to get into your pants."

I chuckled, reluctantly, unable to stop myself. “Maybe."

He was smiling, staring at me with those entrancing creek-brown eyes, humor dancing in his gaze. They heated. “You are pretty sexy. I’m sure you could make a straight girl go gay."

"As if any guy has turned you down.”

"Absolutely. I could never get Dante or Coulter to fuck me."

I laughed, shaking my head as I leaned back onto his chest, burrowing my head into it. The smile on my lips slowly died at his revelation. Everything I'd thought my parents had done for me was fake.

Fake, fake, fake.

They'd never been parents, at all, not even in the small moments I'd thought they were.

I'd known that they'd only ever paid attention to me when they'd wanted something. To make them food, clean the house, pack up our belongings. To get Abuelo's attention...to fuck men for money that they'd kept .

But I could always justify my loyalty to them by the fact that they'd taken care of me.

I'd always known they were terrible people, but I hadn't been able to face the reality that they didn't care about me. Until now. Until the truth was staring at me in the face in all its ugliness.

My own parents didn't love me. Not even a little bit.

I hate them , I allowed myself to think for the first time in my life, the pain inside scorching like a hot flame.

"You were right to kill them," I choked out. And though it ached, it burned to say the words out loud, the truth was setting me free. I no longer had to hate Knight for killing them.

"It's okay," he soothed, stroking my hair, kissing the top of my head, showering me with love. "It was them. It had nothing to do with you. You're right. They were sick. They had no idea how special you are." Knight, reading my mind again.

And yet, despite all his comforting care, he had literally just bought me from Rook.

I was nothing in this world, except a bargaining chip to the more powerful people around me.

It was time to stand on my own.

To be strong without anyone else.

To be enough, for myself.

"So what happens next?" I needed to know his plans, to figure out a way to pay him back so that I could do this for myself.

"Next, dear polva, I intend to keep you with me. At all times. To work, to eat, to sleep, even to shower and shit."

I chuckled. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he was dead serious. His thumb stroked across my throat, his fingers twisting around it, pride filling his gaze. "I own you now."

"Fuck you. You don't own me." I could only glare at him, his palm on my neck a weighted collar. "I'm not your slave."

"That's not what my contract says."

"That contract was just a formality. Rook never enforced it. Not like that."

"He enforced it when he made you fuck me."

"That was different."

"How was it different?”

I stared him down, not speaking, not wanting to admit the truth out loud. That I wanted to fuck Knight . "It doesn't matter."

His fingers tightened on my throat. "Tell me, polva. Tell me why it was different."

"Fuck you, Knight. I don't belong to you, and I’m not your polva ." I pulled his fingers from my throat. "I'm not the dirt that you can walk all over."

“You were never dirt beneath my feet." His voice had softened, but it didn't smother the rage I felt inside.

I'd always hated that nickname.

It was a reminder that he was the stars the sun and the moon, the price of the island . While I was only dirt. The trash thrown out, not even loved by my own parents.

The whole island bowed down to worship the path he walked, and I trailed along behind him like a lost puppy.

I would never be like that again. I had to have control over my own life, once and for all.

"Then why call me that?" I asked him. "Why call me dirt?”

"It's not dirt. It's dust."

"So, not even big enough to warrant a spot of land?"

"That's not it."

"Then what? What does it mean?”

He gave me a knowing grin. "You know what it means."

"I don't." I shook my head. "I really don't."

"Mmm," he pretended to think. "That's too bad."

"Tell me," I sat upwards, climbing into his lap, staring into his eyes with the ferocity of a warrior who could force him to tell me with the power of my might. "Tell me, Knight."

His eyes danced with humor, and he cupped my face. "You know, Tati. Think about it. When did I start calling you that?"

I shook my head. "You always called me that."

"I didn't."

"Yes you did! From the very first day. I remember that."

He leaned in to brush his lips across my forehead. "Then remember better."

"Why won't you just tell me?" I growled out.

"Because, it's more fun if you figure it out on your own."

"You’re annoying."

"So are you," he grinned. "But you're my annoying creature now, to own and to control. What shall I do with you first?”

“Oh I don’t know,” I scowled. "You could start by releasing me from the contract."

"No, that's not it." He was still smiling. The asshole.

"What else?"

"I don't know." I crossed my arms across my chest. "You tell me, since you're the boss." For now.

"I know." He suddenly pushed me backwards, moving me onto my back.

I gazed up at him, a mixture of anger and thrill shooting through me at the predatory look his eyes.

I wanted to be mad. To still hate this man who'd bought me like a toy in a store. To knee him in the nuts, slam the lamp over his head to knock him out, then run away forever.

I didn't want to want him to kiss me. To hold me forever in his embrace. To take care of and protect me for the rest of my life.

I was too strong for that. I'd grown too independent.

And yet, his breath smelled like mint and whiskey as it feathered over my face. Temptation and sin. Hot sweaty nights under a moonlit sky, where he would run his fingers over every inch of my skin.

His soft brown eyes were fixed on me and, for a brief flash, I remembered what it'd felt like to kiss him again after he’d held back for so long.

I held my breath, waiting for that moment to happen again.

For his lips to touch mine, sending electricity throughout my whole body.

To know what it felt like to be loved by the man on top of me, even if it was only for a second.

Then suddenly he was yanking off my shirt, heat blazing through me at the touch of his lips pressed to mine. "Tonight, I'm going to mark you with my cum. Make you swallow it deep into your belly. Rub it into your skin so it sinks deep inside you. Into the blood flowing through your veins so that it becomes a part of you. So that every person who looks at you knows that you belong to me. I want the whole world to know that you are mine ."

I gave in to his kiss, his touch, his words sending lightning up my spine, buzzing through my system. His tongue stroked mine, a low, masculine moan deep in his throat revealing his desire. "I'm going to fuck you every day from here on out. Every. Damn. Day."

His lips left mine, trailing passionately down my neck, his fingers sliding up my stomach and my chest, now arching, to yank down my top.

I squeezed my legs together in excited anticipation, wetness pooling between my legs as his hot mouth came down on my nipple.

Any worry I had for my future bled out of me as I lay under him, his fingers nimbly undoing my corset. "Mm," he hummed against my skin, "so warm and wet." His tongue flicked the hardened bud of my nipple. "This for me, polva?"

"Yes, "I breathed, arching my back, pressing myself against him. "Fuck me, Knight."

"You had a gun shoved into my mouth earlier," he chuckled, a breath against my wet breast, spreading goosebumps up my skin.

"It was foreplay."

"With the safety off."

“Count your blessing that you're still alive, and make me come."

He tsked his lips, his hands reaching for my wrist to pull them up and over my head. Holding them there with one hand, he pressed me to the bed, staring down at me, his expression hard and judgmental.

I hated how weak I felt in that moment, waiting for him to pronounce his judgement over me. “You cut my ribbon.”

He pinched my nipple, and I arched my back, unable to stop myself, even though guilt hammered my heart. “You could’ve had almost anything I owned in the world, but you destroyed the one thing I wanted for myself." His hand slid down my belly and under my panties, yanking them off, then he fingered my slit. I moaned as he touched me.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Yes," I hissed, my hips shifting, chasing, chasing as he explored me with his finger.

"Show me how sorry you are, Tati."

"How?"

"I want you to come for me, like a good girl."

"Is that all?"

"No," his lips suckled and caressed my nipple, then down my belly, "I need you to show me that pretty pink cunt of yours."

I widened my legs, baring myself to him, to the man I loved, despite how he hurt me. "Nothing else?"

"Nothing else." A breath over my softness as his finger left me cold and empty. Then, his mouth, hot, warm, wet, his tongue spearing me. Fingers digging into my inner thighs, pushing them wider, baring me open, until there was nothing but his lips on my cunt.

Soft murmurs as he kissed, caressed, and suckled. My own hips jerking, thighs shifting, chasing, wanting, needing ...

"This pussy belongs to me," two fingers speared me, stretching me wider, then one curled up inside me. Tap, tap, tapping, rubbing, my orgasm building. His tone changed from loving to possessive. "You will never fuck another guy again, is that clear, Tati?"

"Yes." After today, I could never return to my old life.

"No fucking anyone but me." His finger disappeared, his tongue still laving through my lips and I whined in complaint.

Begging .

"Please, Knight."

A hard slap on my cunt. "This pussy doesn't deserve to come."

" Please ."

"You cut my ribbon."

"I'm sorry !"

"I want all your ribbons, Tati." Another slap, sharp pain reverberating through my core as he then kissed and suckled. "From now on, this pussy belongs to me, and only me, is that clear?"

"Yes, yes, please ."

"After tonight, I'm going to fuck you every night of my life, Tatiana." Another slap on my thigh. "Every. Single. Inch." Slap. "Belongs to me. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Promise me, Tati. Say it. No other man, but me."

"You own me, Knight. You always have. No other man but you. "

"Forever and ever," he growled, and I moaned, crying out as he ate me out, his fingers scissoring and plunging, fucking me with them.

I came, fire shooting over my skin, electric and singing. Like a burning flame, too hot, too scorching. It would kill me one day. It washed over me, sparking, firing through my veins as every part of me longed for him. To be held. Owned, possessed. Loved. By him. Only him.

He suddenly pulled back, yanking his hard cock from his pants, he plunged inside me. "So goddamn beautiful." Sparks of pain - he was brutal and cruel as he hammered. "So goddamn naughty, fucking Rook while every part of you knows that you belong to me."

I could only cling to him for my life as he fucked me harshly, teeth rattling, my head slamming against the wall. He railed and railed, hips slamming, fingers digging into my flesh. His expression filled with anguish and anger. "Going to put a baby in this belly. Want to see you swollen with my child." His dick so stuffed and full inside me, tearing my insides out. "But first, need to mark you."

He yanked out, pumping his cock once, twice, then groaned as he sprayed me with his cum. White ropes furled outward, across my pussy, my legs, then up my chest and, at last, dripping on my face. My tongue flicked out, tasting it.

"Fucking mine. Mine," he snarled, staring down at me, heaving with anger, full possession in his gaze.

The animal inside me reveled in it.

I wanted to belong to him.

To be the only woman who could ever own his heart.

Reaching up, I placed a palm over his chest, my own possessiveness coming out. "I fucking own this now."

"You always have, Tatiana." He was breathless, his creek-brown eyes dark with seriousness.

"And your heart ?" My tone was cruel. I wanted to hurt him. Because it crushed me inside to think, to say the words. To bring her up, right here, right now. "What about her?"

"What about her?" His fingers moved over my skin possessively. He was rubbing his cum into my skin. "She has nothing to do with this."

"How so?" I was arching my back into his hands, encouraging him, feeling the weight of his cum sink into me. He was my master now. My owner.

The past had collided with the present, in promise of the future.

My whole world laid out before me, always belonging to him.

It was him, and me, frozen in time, forever.

He had just proven it. That even as we talked about his heart , he was still owning me with his cum. Rubbing me with it, marking me. As his.

All the way down my body, shoving it back up inside me until my pussy was full of it. I knew when I stood, it would run down between my thighs.

"Come," he got off the bed. "I want you to meet her."

I jerked upwards staring at him incredulously. "What?"

"Don't shower." His stare was cold but possessive. "I want you to remember that I fucking own you, Tatiana, even as you meet her. You will never be free of me."