Chapter 17 Knight #2
Killing the engine, I jump out, circle the car, and throw open her door. Unfastening her seat belt, I spin her so she’s sitting sideways with her legs hanging out of the car, then I drop to my knees, rip her panties off her, and bury my face in her cunt.
Her shocked gasp quickly morphs into a pained moan as I lick and nip and fuck her channel with my tongue.
I feel her fingers land on my head as I force myself closer. Pushing her thighs open wider with my hands, I slide two fingers into her pussy, curling them until her body is thrown into an orgasm.
Legs shaking, her entire body tenses, then releases, her muscles twitching as she screams out her orgasm, her arousal flooding my mouth and coating my lips in her flavor.
Needing more, I keep moving, sucking her clit between my lips, still fucking her with my fingers until she comes again, then again, greedily swallowing down her arousal but still needing more.
Reaching down, I blindly unfasten my jeans, then grab her hips and flip her to her stomach.
Parting her ass cheeks with my palms, I watch as my dick pushes into her body.
When I’m buried deep inside of her, her fluttering cunt still twitching around me, I exhale and take the first full breath I’ve taken all day.
“Knight,” she half pants, half moans, her hands scrambling to hold on to the side of the car seat as I rail into her, fucking her in hard, fast strokes, chasing my release and the desire to be as close to her as I can get.
“I’m sorry. Let me fix this, Doll. I need to fix this,” I tell her, holding her still as I roll my hips.
Parting her ass, I find her hole with my thumb and press down on it, not pushing inside, but toying with it, like I might. Like her ass is a trigger, she comes again, screaming loudly as she buries her face into the seat, completely at my mercy.
Her orgasm triggers mine, and I come, pumping spurt after spurt of cum into her body. Not ready for this to be over, I keep fucking her, unsure what I’ll do if the distance in her eyes is still there once we’re done.
When my dick stops twitching, I exhale, listening to the sound of our panting breaths fill the empty garage.
Unwilling to pull out, I try to decide how to keep myself inside her and pick her up.
But with her sprawled half in, half out of the car door, there’s no way of carrying her upstairs while staying inside her.
“Holy fuck, Knight,” she gasps, twisting her head to look at me.
Deciding that speed is probably the only way to get her where I need her, I quickly withdraw my cock, flip her to her back, and slam my dick back into her again.
“Ow,” she says with a giggle as her head bashes into the seat belt plug. “What the hell was that?”
“I want to be inside you.”
“Yeah, I figured that much. But I mean all of it since we got home. What was that?”
“Today has been…” I try to find the right words. “Hard.”
“What? Your dick?” she asks, her brow furrowed.
“Yes. But that’s not what I was referring to. I have not enjoyed the distance between us.”
“You haven’t been more than ten steps away from me all day. You followed me into the bathroom,” she blurts.
“This morning—”
“I overreacted. You apologized. It’s fine.”
“I hurt you. I made you sad. That’s not fine.”
“Urgh,” she says, sighing as she tips her head back and looks up at the ceiling of the car.
“My ex undermined my job. He would say things that, at the time, I didn’t realize were insults, until I put them all together and saw how diminishing they were.
He did that a lot, and not just about my job, but my clothes, my style, my friends.
He chipped away at me until I was so low I stopped trying to be me. ”
“Do I do that?” I ask, my stomach dropping to my balls as I wait for her answer.
“No,” she says quickly.
“If I do, leave me. Run away from me. Go to Buck or one of my brothers, and they’ll protect you from me.
If they tell me to stay away from you, I will.
Or I’ll try to. But they’ll take care of you if I’m not.
” Saying the words and telling her who to go to if I’m treating her badly leaves an acidic taste on my tongue, but I do it anyway.
She’s mine, and she always will be, but if I start to do to her what her asshole ex did, then I don’t deserve her, and I’d expect my family, my brothers, to protect her from me.
“That’s not… You take care of me, Knight. You’re not him. But this morning…”
She falls silent, and I say what she’s clearly reluctant to. “This morning, by suggesting you cancel your appointments and stay home with me, I acted like him. I made you feel the way he made you feel.”
Stumbling backward, I ignore the sound of my wet dick slapping against my leg and the way my pants and boxers are hanging around my ankles. I don’t deserve to be inside her. I don’t deserve her.
“Knight.”
Grabbing my jeans, I turn and open the door, willingly leaving her for the first time since she opened the door to her apartment and let me into her life.
Storming up the stairs and into our bedroom, I reach into the shower and turn on the water. Ripping my clothes off, I dump them into the hamper without care, then step under the freezing torrent of water.
Octavia is mine. She’s my mate, my wife, my perfect doll, and yet today, I hurt her.
I didn’t mean to, but I still did it. I saw her the day I brought her home.
I saw how faded she was, in her ugly sweats, with sadness and hurt etched so clearly in her eyes.
Helping her and taking care of her felt instinctual to me.
I bathed her, brought her home, fucked her, married her, and claimed her.
From the first moment I saw her, I’ve been doing what felt right. It was right…until this morning.
Today, my need hurt her. My jealousy hurt her. I hurt her.
Not feeling the coldness, I stand beneath the shower, waiting for the water to wash away the shame I feel, but it doesn’t work.
“Knight.” Her sweet voice only reminds me of how badly I’ve let her down, so I keep my gaze downcast, too much of a coward to confront the hurt in her eyes.
I recognize the rustling of her clothes and the sound of them landing on the floor, but I don’t move until her foot enters my line of sight, and I throw my arm out. “Stop,” I say.
“You don’t want me to get in with you?” she asks, her voice quiet.
“The water’s cold,” I tell her, reaching up to increase the temperature, not allowing her to get in until it’s warm.
“Knight,” she says once I lower my arm and allow her to step in. “Knight, baby, look at me. Please,” she begs, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“I hurt you,” I remind her, telling her why she shouldn’t want to touch or talk to me.
“I know. But you didn’t mean to.”
“Don’t defend me,” I growl.
“I’m not,” she quickly says. “If you’d meant to do it, I wouldn’t. But even though your words…” She pauses, then finally says, “Hurt me. You didn’t know that would be a trigger for me. Now that you know, will you say it again?”
“No,” I immediately reply.
“I know you won’t. I’m not angry about this morning. But I am upset that you left me.”
My gaze instantly snaps to hers.
“You left me downstairs, Knight. You don’t like me out of your sight, but you just turned around and left.”
“I hurt you,” I remind her.
“And you think fucking me, then leaving me, made it better?” she asks, her tone suggesting that I’m being obtuse.
“I don’t deserve you,” I tell her.
“You claimed me. You married me. Are you changing your mind?” she asks, her lips pursing as she waits for my answer.
“No,” I growl.
“So you’re punishing me to punish yourself?”
“No. I…” I falter, struggling to explain.
“I haven’t been alone in days, Knight. You’ve made it so I don’t want to be.
You’re always with me. You quit your job, flew across the country, fucked me, married me, and are trying to knock me up so that we’re always together.
So neither of us gets to be alone anymore.
We don’t get to be alone anymore, okay? That’s not how this works. ”
“You walked away from me this morning,” I remind her.
“I know. I shouldn’t have done that. From now on, we won’t do that anymore. If we’re upset, or hurt, or angry, or no matter what we’re feeling, we don’t leave. We stay. We fight. We talk, or fuck, or whatever. But we don’t leave. Okay?”
“We don’t leave,” I repeat.
“We don’t leave,” she says it back to me, like we just sealed a deal or made an oath. “Can we get out now?” she asks.
“We should clean up first,” I say, feeling the driving urge to take complete care of her, to make sure she’s okay, even if I’m the reason she isn’t.
“Okay,” she agrees, not moving, just waiting for me to take over, the way I’ve been doing since I made her mine.
Once I’ve washed her skin and hair, she takes the soap from my hands and washes me, covering my skin with the same level of care I do for her. Instead of our usual ritual of me drying her hair, she braids it and secures the end with a hair band, then looks up at me. “Let’s go to bed.”
Holding the covers open for her, I follow her across the mattress, wanting to be close to her, but bracing myself for her rejection. Instead of rolling to her side, she positions herself on her belly, her legs parted, her one leg bent up and toward her chest.
Climbing in behind her, I shuffle close to her, tentatively laying my arm across her back.
“Closer,” she whispers.
Inching closer, I curl around her, pushing my thighs into the curve of her ass.
“Closer.”
Tightening my arm, I try to roll her into me.
“No,” she says, reaching behind her until her hand finds my dick.
“Fuck me, like this,” she begs, tugging me until I’m on top of her, my hard dick probing at her wet entrance.
Grabbing my arm, she tugs it beneath her, holding my hand under her cheek. Positioning my knee behind hers, which is pulled up toward her chest, I keep my weight off her, held up by the other leg that’s braced against the mattress on the outside of her straight leg.
It’s a position I’ve never tried before, but as I push my dick into her, our bodies are touching as closely as we can be.
A soft whine of pleasure slips from her lips as I roll my hips, filling her cunt until she’s full of me.
“No,” she protests when I start to lift my weight off her, so I can thrust. “Just slow and deep, just like this,” she says, her eyes closed, as she grips my fingers beneath her cheek tightly.
Gently grinding against her, I fuck her so slowly, I’m not sure it even counts as sex.
It’s nice, but not explosive, and as she softly whines, I realize this isn’t about sex.
This is about us being as close as possible with our bodies connected.
It doesn’t matter if either of us comes.
This isn’t about that. This isn’t about us making a baby or orgasming.
This is us reconnecting. It’s us resolidifying our need for each other, and as I pull her onto her side a little, keeping myself inside of her, I close my eyes and finally allow myself to relax.