Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Knight
G ardenias sweeten the fetid air. The smell spurs me on in beating the living shit out of the lowlife who was about to rape this girl.
She’s out, but she’s in heat so her metabolism’s working overtime. Let her heal. Let her rest. Whatever.
The note of song from her, pure beauty and infinite sadness fuels me. And just maybe stops me from killing the rapey fuck.
But the rage still burns.
Right now? The rage is fire in my veins as I slam my fist into the alpha’s face.
He’s muscular, big. I’m taller but he probably outweighs me.
It’s not a fair fucking fight.
I’m going to demolish him.
The guy laughs as he staggers to his feet. He swings at me and he connects. The pain blossoms. I grin.
Not because of the girl. This shitbag deserves to suffer, deserves to be forced to eat his own dick and balls for touching her, for drugging her.
I want him to understand who the fucking Unholy Trinity is.
“Pretty boy, go back inside. The girl’s mine.” He wipes blood from his mouth, hands coiling into fists as he sniffs the air. “Alpha to alpha, I’m superior. And I got to her first. All that fucking soft skin, and so pretty with her naivety. She should hang a sign saying virgin in heat, fuck me and own me now. ”
I nod. I don’t even look at her. Dirtbag has a point. She is all kinds of soft, pretty, but he’s not getting her.
Dante didn’t ask me to get involved. Actually, it was the opposite.
He told me to watch her.
Which I did. Right up until I didn’t. Until now.
“Here’s the deal,” I say. “You go, and never come back to any Unholy Trinity establishment again.”
“You work in this shit hole? They hired you?”
I just smile. “Counting to three.”
“Before what?”
“I kill you.” I pause. “Better yet, I’ll make you wish I killed you.”
The guy laughs, “Oh, I am going to love this.”
“Man, so am I. One.”
He rushes me.
“Two.”
I step aside as he takes a swing.
“Three.” I wait.
The moron turns and lunges. I grab him by the hand, bending his fingers back and slamming him into the wall, face first.
“See, you might think you can take me, dickwad, but you thought wrong. We don’t rape or drug girls here. And the thing is, I’m a helluva lot more dangerous than you give me credit for. A wild fucking card. One who knows the score. I could kill you right now with my bare hands. Or with the knife in my pocket.”
I twist his fingers again, the noise from the club growing louder. I don’t look at the door. It’ll be Julien. His girl, Darcy, probably sent him, since he was at the front door.
“The agony you’re feeling? It can get a lot worse.” I bend his finger, breaking one, and he screams. “And I could continue. Finding and breaking all the small bones, maybe tearing off one of your balls.”
I get closer to him. “One of my friends is a psycho. I’ve learned a lot from Reaper in the art of torture. How to kill slow.”
“Please!”
“Not fun pleading, is it?” I ask. “See, I might look like one of those guys with a cushy job and a mommy and daddy who paid my way into school or wherever the fuck the rich dicks go these days, but I’m not. I’m very far from it.”
“Please…”
It’s music to my ears.
“Maybe I’ll do it quick and break the hyoid bone in your throat.” I pause, take a breath because I’m teetering on the verge of killing him. “I could cut to the chase, slice your throat, and let you bleed out. Or, if I’m feeling kind, I can use the knife, severe your brain stem and?—”
“Knight.”
I close my eyes, swallow, and take a breath. Then I snap another finger, before turning the screaming asshole and sucker punching him.
Then I look up at the door. “Yeah, Julien?”
“Need help?”
Ah, fuck. I know I’m not doing any of that to our wanna-be rapist and resident slime ball. I’m not actually like Reaper. I’ll kill in defense, but I’m talking straight up fun and games murder. That’s Reaper’s territory, not mine.
I’m deadly in other ways. I can kill someone just by sticking a knife in their heart. Or I can destroy them by taking the world from them and hit them where it hurts.
Wallet. Reputation. Standing. Livelihood.
I can empty the first, turn the rest into dust.
“Take this trash out,” I say. “He’s not welcome here anymore.”
Julien’s gaze touches on the now groaning girl. “Did he…?”
“No. Get whatever he gave her because it worked fast, and I’d like a look. His details, too.”
Julien nods, steps out into the back alley where we keep the garbage and Reaper sometimes comes to smoke. There’s another door at the end. Julien hefts the guy up and over his shoulder like he’s nothing, and heads out.
He’ll work him over, get the details, and have him dumped somewhere, either near an emergency room or just in a park. I’m betting on the latter.
Julien might be muscle, but he’s smart, loyal, and knows exactly when to do what needs to be done.
Like how he waited until I inflicted pain on the guy, but stopped me doing something stupid.
I drag another breath in and past the stench of garbage is the sweet complexity, the rich sensuality of gardenias.
This girl’s a garden of forbidden desires.
Turning, I crouch down, smoothing her hair from her face, and my heart lurches. It’s electric, touching her skin. She’s like satin and her hair silk.
She’s stunning. A mix of angel and siren.
But the plump, naturally red lips aren’t what causes that hard lurch. It’s not her beauty, or even that cocksucker’s vile scent clinging to her.
It’s her swollen lip, the spot of blood, and the black and purple bruise that’s bloomed.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She tries to push at me, but I capture her hands, as she slurs, “No, no, please?— ”
“He’s gone.”
Her pretty, dark eyes dart around, unfocused. “I don’t…I don’t know…what happened.”
I’m not sure if she’s asking or announcing, but I just stroke a finger over those soft lips, even though she winces, and I say, “He drugged you. Did…did he touch you?”
This time her eyes snap to mine in focus, and there’s rage there. “He tried.”
“I should have killed him.” I sigh. “Just a figure of speech.”
Honestly, I’m not sure if either of us mean it, and I’m still touching her. It’s only when she leans into me, I realize what I’m doing.
Trying to wipe the asshole’s scent from her.
I drop my hand to her chin and gently turn her face, looking at her neck. He didn’t manage to mark her. And while I know that already, there’s something, an urge, that makes me check.
“Would you have killed him?” she asks.
I let her go and sit back. Then I settle on an answer. “I’m part owner here, so piling up bodies where I work isn’t on the agenda.”
Shit. She riles so many things in my blood. I know what I look like. I know what I like. I want her as mine, and it’s not just the fact she’s almost in heat.
I want her. To own her, call her my good girl, praise her in just the right way, until I find the sweet spot that makes her both squirm and pant in exquisite agony and need.
I want to tuck her up, look after her, have her call me Daddy.
There’s no weird and fucked up thing to it. I just like the way Daddy Doms can be soft or hard in discipline, control, gifts…
Somehow, I drag my mind back. “You know you shouldn’t be out.”
“I just…I couldn’t be at home. ”
“Why?” She’s not a party girl, and she’s not looking to get laid, looking to scratch the itch for a rut to help her through.
If she wanted that there’d be a hundred better places for a girl like her. And if she wanted it, she’d wait until the heat hit.
If she wanted that, an omega who looked like her could get it. Anywhere.
And she’d have taken what was on offer. She wouldn’t have fought back.
There’s a part of me that stirs, the old earnest part, the purely OG name part from back when I was idealistic—when I thought the world operated in a different way. Before someone fucked up my ticket out of hell, and bad decisions met more bad decisions. It took Dante saving my ass from prison and showed me how to shape this world…that part thinks she’s like me. Like us, I guess.
Even Reaper.
Someone who doesn’t want the normal shackles of the life the Council decides. Someone who’s more than the sum of her parts.
Yeah, and also someone who I want to claim as mine because the longer we sit here, the less I can smell the other alpha tainting her.
“Feeling better?” I ask.
She nods, rubs her lip gingerly. “Yeah, my head’s clearing.”
“Good.” I stand and offer her my hand. “I’ll make sure you get home.”
I’m a little hazy on whether watching her meant keeping her at the club, but she should be somewhere safe, and that’s home. Darcy can do it. Even Julien and?—
Oh. Fuck.
She puts her hand in mine and everything lights up.
“I’m Lizette,” she whispers.
“Knight.”
“Like the opposite of day? Night?”
“No, like your knight in shining armor.” I grin .
“It fits.”
I help her up and we’re both breathing hard. Our hands electrify where they touch and it’s like her scent’s in me, turning my blood into a firestorm.
“I…” Suddenly, she’s in my arms, her mouth on mine.
She tastes of heaven, sweet and delicious, the rarest thing, and I’m instantly hard.
I curl a hand in her hair, pull back her head. Her eyes are liquid desire, her pulse throbbing, and I’m overcome with the desire to wipe his scent from her, imprint her with mine.
Lizette kisses me again, a fevered kiss, and I don’t care that she’s not skilled. She’s perfection and her fingers are in my curls, her sweet, soft body pushing into me.
She rubs herself on my hard-on, like she needs to come, like she’s going for broke in a fever pitch and I lift my head. “Liz?—”
“Shut up.” Her voice is low, feral, a melodious note that catches hold of my cock. She claws at my clothes and I take her mouth in a slow, hot kiss, one that has her panting into me.
I look at her. “My way. My rules.”
With that, I turn us and slam her into the wall. She wraps one leg around me, rubbing on my jeans, and I swear to fuck I feel how wet she is, her slick, and with it her perfumed skin blooms brighter, headier.
What really drives me insane is the snap to attention in her gaze when I told her it’s my way.
She’s a natural fucking good girl.
“You wanna please me?” I slide a hand soft along her thigh.
Lizette moans, offering her throat to me as she lifts her hips, her cunt covered in soft cotton rubbing along my cock.
“Yes, I want to. I need to.”
I can’t fuck her. I know that. But a taste, a feel, just a little more won’t hurt .
Plundering her mouth in a claiming kiss, our tongues meet and dance as she surges against me.
It’s like two halves exploding and fusing. I skate my fingers higher.
“Please,” she whispers, voice fever-thick, “touch me…”
Something short circuits in me.
“Be a good little girl,” I murmur. “A sweet little girl, one who wants to please her Daddy.”
“I’m good…” She’s panting, her lips on me, tongue sliding against me, making my brain start to shut down, my defenses and good intentions melt down into nothing.
“Beg me to touch you,” I whisper as I come up for air.
“Please, please touch me, I need it. I need you in me. Make this ache go away.”
“You want me to make you better?” I bend and bite one of her nipples through her dress.
Oh, fuck, her tits are sweet, high, nipples hard.
“I want you to make me better, please, please. Please, Knight, save me.”
What I want is for her to call me Daddy. I’ll take Sir in a pinch but with someone this hot, this potent, I don’t really care. She’s begging and Daddy’s in a generous mood.
Daddy’s out of his fucking mind.
I stroke my hand higher.
“Like this?” I ask.
She breathes out, pushing her pussy into me. “Yes…Please…I’ve been so good…”
Lizette’s never done this before, sunk into the submissive nature of hers, it’s strikingly clear, and it’s a fucking gift to sample it, get the first taste.
“Let’s see how good you are,” I mutter.
I pull her panties aside and sink my fingers into her hot tightness. Her slick lets me get two fingers in her immediately and she clamps tight, convulsing, an orgasm ripping through her. I kiss her hard, taking what’s mine, and I bite where the dickwad hit her.
Then I start to kiss and suck down her throat, needing to feel the heat and the beat of her blood through her pulse.
I’m not going to bite her deep. I’m not going to mark her, just suck that sweet spot.
Her moan fills me as she starts to push up. I find her clit with my thumb and make her come again and all it does is make her writhe more, beg for more.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. Never been in something so tight and perfect in my life, either. She’s pliable, too, her body molding around my fingers, squeezing.
I want nothing more than to bury myself to the hilt inside her, claim her, bite so hard that the salty-coppery taste on my tongue is from my mark and?—
“What the literal fuck?”
I still, even as she shatters on my fingers yet again.
Dante’s hand lands on my shoulder, a biting, bruising grip that’s like a bucket of water on me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Knight? And tell me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you? Right now?”