Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Lizette
L aughter bubbles up as we roll out of the restaurant. And I cling to him, arm around Knight’s waist and hand on his vest as he holds me close.
“When you said make a show,” I say, “I thought…”
He stops, spins me, right outside the door. “That I’d have my way with you in there?”
Heat floods my skin. “Well, yeah.”
“Now, that’s a punishable offense, little girl,” he says, kissing me, bending me back so I’m overwhelmed and swept up by him in the best way. His mouth is a wonder and his kisses sublime.
He breaks the kiss and says, “Tell Daddy to take you home.”
“Take me home, Daddy.”
He grins, dimples flashing, and he swings me up in his arms and carries me to the car.
It’s wild, insane, and I’m lost in him. I don’t even know where we go, because he keeps distracting me by stealing kisses, teasing touches up my thigh, and never quite giving me anything than more throbbing needs. But the trip is short and we’re at one of those little fancy houses with the tiny yards. This time, I think it’s on the other side of the park.
This one is two floors of painted cream brickwork with black finishes and Knight drags me out and carries me up the stairs, punching his finger against a pad at the door.
It opens and lights bloom into buttery, welcoming light.
Then, he carries me over the threshold.
“Do you want to make small talk or just take this to the bedroom?”
I open my mouth and he steals a kiss, my arms around his neck, fingers in his soft curls and I can’t think of a thing to say.
“You want to go to the bedroom, don’t you?”
I nod again.
He grins and sets me down, then stalks me slowly so I back away and hit a wall, and he pins me in, kissing me, nibbling an erotic path over my lips, down my throat, to my cleavage, and back up again.
Knight looks at me. “You’re all wet and hot and wanting. And I bet you’re so fucking pretty naked. Wine?”
He spins away and it takes all I am not to sink down to the floor.
Instead, I follow him.
The living room is comfortable with a wet bar and muted autumn colors. He opens a bottle and pours two glasses as I wander around, touching the fabric of the sofa, running my fingers along the framed photos in black and white, things of beauty. Ugly parts of Starlight City made beautiful, otherworldly, through the lens.
Soft music plays. I don’t recognize the artist, but I know it’s been on the radio. It’s one of the songs that would come on in the kitchen where I used to work.
This is a seducer’s paradise and I hate all the women who’ve been here, every last one .
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Liz. You steal souls and hearts.”
His words make me squirm and my chest tight and I don’t know where to look. “I’m not.”
“Take off your shoes, leave on the stockings, and loosen the zip of the dress, just a little. Just so Daddy can see little glimpses of that perfect body.”
Everything’s on fire, and I slide off the high heeled shoes, glad to be out of them and I unzip a little. He nods, and I unzip a little more, then another few zipper teeth.
“Enough.”
Knight holds out the drink to me and sits on his sofa. I stand, not sure what to do, but he touches the seat next to him and I sit. Holding the drink, feeling…I don’t know. Alive, so full of zinging nerves that don’t know what to do.
But he’s calm, that controlling air wrapping around me, showing he’s in charge, and I find myself giving over to it. He asks how homeschooling was, and as he does, he slips one arm strap off my shoulder, followed by the other. Then he observes his handiwork and pushes up my skirt until it’s obscenely high on my thighs.
“Knees together like a good, sweet girl.” He strokes my thigh, and talks to me, just about my life, growing up, my likes and dislikes, what I thought of dinner.
And he listens intently to every word. Nodding here and there, inserting questions when he wants clarifications.
I know he’s older than me and he looks young, he’s got to be thirty at least, but he can somehow pull off the air of being older. Way older, like he’s a father-like figure, my master, the man who’ll provide for and love me, and take care of me.
This is a side of his kink I never really expected. I just thought it would all be sex talk and actual sex. But Knight doesn’t do that. He embodies it and makes it about more than sex, something bigger, deeper, more profound. Oh, it’s soaked in erotic intentions, but it’s real intentions that are born out of the need to dominate, to protect.
He praises me for my perfect nipples, touching them when the air kisses one. “Lovely.”
“Oh.” I got to adjust the top but his hand stops me.
“You’re perfect, stunning. You should always be admired, worshiped, loved.”
And I melt.
He lets me ask things and he answers and my head’s a mess as we continue. He tells me how Dante saved him from prison, recruited him. How he found his calling in the Unholy Trinity.
He tells me harrowing tales that twist into hilarity of his hacking days, selling drugs and the rest, of skipping school, getting into trouble from the father of the first girl he slept with—not an omega—because he accidentally knotted her and her scream brought her father running.
It’s all designed to be breezy, and it feels like glossing over the ugly parts of his life.
It’s designed to be hot and controlling and benevolent.
“Stand up, Liz.”
I do, my legs wobbling. He stands too, and takes my drink, setting it down with his. He walks around me and unzips the dress the rest of the way. It falls to the floor in a heap.
“Even without the dress, you’re fucking beyond stunning.”
He touches me softly, all over, never resting. He tastes my pussy that’s covered in lace, the small of my back, my nipples, nape of my neck, my waist. He then tastes my lips and cheeks. His fingers move all over, touching me everywhere.
It’s the only way I can explain it. Tasting . Because each touch is a lick. Each touch is a bite, a mark on me.
“Fuck, Liz. You’re a vision, and I think I’m back to the idea of the bedroom. But first…”
Knight strips off his jacket and undoes his waistcoat, then he pulls off his belt. He sits. Pats his lap. “Lay down, stomach to the floor, ass up.”
My heart beats wild and I do just that.
He snicks the leather strap, the sound reverberating through my every cell.
“You’ve been bad. You doubted me. You talked back, you talked yourself into shame of your own making. You don’t think you’re beautiful. So, I’m going to punish you. Ten, I think…”
Without warning, he brings the belt down on my ass and I scream, more from shock than the sting that turns to a pleasant throb.
“That’s one,” he says.
It comes down again. And it hurts a little more, the pleasure aftermath a little more intense.
“Two.” He rubs a hand over my ass. Then he brings the belt down again. And again. “Three. Four.”
I moan.
He does it again. “Five.” Then he leans in. “I bet you’re wet. I bet you’re aching and in need of alpha cock to ride. Missionary? I don’t think so. You’re not a missionary girl unless it’s legs up and back. Unless you’re spread open for the taking.” He hits me again and again and again. “Six. Seven. Eight.”
I’m hot, squirming, throbbing with need, my pussy wet, dripping. And I want to come, his blows holding the promise of an orgasm in with the deliverance of pain.
He hits me again, and I shriek and moan. “Nine. Usually, I like to follow up the wine and dine with drinks and kinks, I sprinkle on a little seduction and I’m there.”
He holds off on the final blow.
“Please!”
“But this is you, Liz, and we’ve already done the wine and dine and I think I know your kinks,” he says, rubbing my hot ass. “You’re a versatile girl, and I like that. But I’m never, ever going to be Dante.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“Or Reaper.”
I try and picture this man chasing me down with deadly, erotic intent. But I can’t. He likes the chase, he likes his kinks, but he’s Daddy over his domain. He’s the master and he’ll care for me.
Praise me.
Watch me squirm.
And he’ll dole out measured of punishment aimed to please, and then…
I swallow. “Never, and that’s a good thing.”
“Good,” he says. “Good girl. But you need to know Daddy means what Daddy says.”
And he brings the belt down one last time, making me come. I jump and buck and moan. His fingers are in me fast, and he almost pulls out then slams them back into me, pounding me, pushing the orgasm higher and higher until I’m in tears, a mess.
“Sit up, baby.”
He pulls out and I sit up and he frees himself. I stare hungrily at his cock. The curve to it. The mushroom head. The girth. I’m not sure if he’s as big as Dante, but he looks it, and I stare at him.
“Come here, swing your leg over and raise your ass…good girl.” Using his hand to guide my hip, I’m there, he’s there, pressing at the opening of my pussy. And he looks at me and leans forward, kissing me. “Slowly lower yourself.”
With his guidance, I do that and he’s huge. Bigger than he looked, just like Dante and the tight fit with my mouth.
Knight stretches my pussy and it would be uncomfortable if I wasn’t so wet, still recovering from that orgasm.
He stops me rushing it, fingers digging into my skin and holding me in place as he pushes deeper and deeper. Until…Oh. God.
He’s in.
I’m sitting on him.
We’re joined.
My body starts to pulsate, my pussy contracting, and waves of euphoria hit.
He hisses, rocking me on his thick pole. “Liz.”
“I can’t help it.” I grasp him. “I can’t help coming. It’s too good.”
“You’re no longer a virgin and you’re all fucking mine.”
He draws me back in for a kiss, long and deep and slow as he starts to work my hips.
When I get the hang of it, I’m lost in a sea of pleasure and I come through that, too. But I’m still turned on, primed, and I realize this is just the first plateau. There are more, and I want to experience them all.
I find my rhythm, riding him in long, deep, undulating strokes.
It gets harder, faster, and soon I’m holding on to him as I’m slamming myself up and down, bouncing on his thick cock, wanting more.
I need more.
The kiss is over, we’re staring at each other, caught in this world of stormy passion, of the constant climb for more.
Every time a fluttery orgasm hits me, I’m out of my mind, lost and needing more. And each time he grits his teeth like he’s having a hard time controlling himself.
He picks me up and I wrap around him. Knight pulls out and flips us, so my ass is on the edge of the sofa and he goes to his knees. He spreads me wide and slams back in.
I cry out. He’s so deep and his cock’s pistoning in and out, a lewd and gorgeous sight.
It’s so fucking deep, his balls slapping my ass and he’s hitting all the right places .
I start to come again and his movements get wilder, the control gone. He’s going at me like I’m meat he needs to pound and I dig my nails into him, trying to drag him deeper, my hips angling for optimum entry.
“Oh, fuck,” he says, grunting. “Fuck.”
“Harder, Daddy, harder. Punish me with your cock.”
“I’m going to destroy your pretty fucking pussy. And then your ass. They’re mine.”
He starts to come and something happens because although I’m coming too, he’s not there, something’s missing and then he swells, knotting…oh, fuck, I think he’s knotting in me, and it’s fucking perfection.
It makes me come harder.
We both slam into each other a frantic, frenzied coupling, and his knot is so big, it’s pure pleasure and I could live on this. And Knight’s coming again and again. Even when we’re done, the pleasure flows with tremors of orgasm as he kisses me in intense, romantic, sexual kisses. I kiss him back. We can’t get enough.
The room’s filled with noises from us, the intense scent of the two of us. He’s damp and my skin’s slick. I rock on him, on the knot, milking it for all I’m worth and when he deflates, he remains in me, still hard.
Moments, hours, later, he withdraws and tucks himself away, before picking me up and carrying me up the stairs. “We’ll do it again, later, if you’re not too sore.”
“I feel wonderful,” I admit.
“Tell me that when you wake up.” He puts me down, strips off and gets into bed too, pulling me into his arms.
“I think…I think…I might love you, Knight.”
“I’m a man who’s shown you kindness and a fucking great time in bed. Plus, I’m fucking amazing, Of course you do.” He brushes kisses on me. “I might love you, too.”
And it’s not until I’m almost asleep I wonder what the ramifications of the knotting will be.
Shit.