Chapter 15 #2
"I know." His thumb finds my clit again, pressing and circling with devastating precision. "I can feel you, Cypress. I can feel how ready you are. Come for me. Come apart in my arms and let me catch you."
The second orgasm shatters me completely, blanking out the world in a white rush of sensation.
Distantly, Knox roars something in a language I don't speak, and his entire body goes rigid above me as he follows me over the edge.
We hang there together in that suspended moment, connected and complete, and then we collapse into each other like two stars finally succumbing to their own gravity.
I don't remember falling asleep, but I must have, because I wake slowly to the feeling of gentle fingers moving through my hair. Morning light streams through the uncovered windows, painting everything in gold and rose, and Knox's body curls protectively around mine like a living fortress.
"You are awake." Not a question. His fingers continue their movement through my hair, separating strands, weaving patterns I can't see. "I hoped you would sleep longer. You need rest."
"So do you." I turn in his arms, which is no small feat given the size differential, and find his face soft with something that looks remarkably like contentment. "What are you doing?"
"A braid." He shows me the small section of hair he's been working on, a complex pattern of tiny plaits that runs along my temple and curves behind my ear. "If you will permit me to finish."
"I didn't know you knew how to braid." I settle back against him, curious rather than alarmed. "Is this an orc thing?"
"A very old orc thing." His fingers resume their work, gentle and deft despite their size.
"In my grandmother's time, warriors would braid the hair of their.
.. there is not a good translation. Partner?
Mate? The word in Orcish encompasses many things.
Lover, yes, but also ally. Protector. The one whose battles you claim as your own. "
My throat goes tight. "Knox..."
"The braid is a declaration. It tells the world that you are under my protection.
That anyone who threatens you answers to me.
That I have chosen you, and you have chosen me, and nothing will come between us.
" He pauses, and I feel his breath catch.
"If that is... if you do not wish to wear my claim, I can remove it.
I should have asked first. Among my people, the offer of a braid is the offer of a lifetime, and I—"
I reach back to cover his hand with mine, stopping the nervous flow of words. "Finish the braid, Knox."
"You are certain?"
"I am certain." I twist to look at him, meeting his amber eyes with all the certainty I feel. "Finish your claim. Let the world know I'm yours."
The smile that breaks across his face is brilliant, transformative, making him look younger and happier than I've ever seen him.
He kisses me softly, reverently, and then turns me back around so he can complete his work.
His fingers move with increased confidence now, weaving the strands together in patterns that feel like promises, and by the time he ties off the end with a small silver clasp, I feel like I've been wrapped in armor more protective than any steel.
"There." He kisses the spot just below the finished braid. "Now no one can mistake who you belong to."
"Or who you belong to," I counter, turning to face him fully. "That's how this works, right? The claim goes both ways?"
"The claim goes both ways. Always."
We dress for battle in matching power suits—his charcoal gray with a deep green shirt that brings out his skin tone, mine a sharp black with a crimson blouse that makes me feel like a warrior queen.
The braid behind my ear glints silver in the morning light, visible enough to be noticed, subtle enough to demand questions.
Knox can't stop staring at it, his eyes tracking to that small mark of ownership every few seconds.
"The evidence," I say, patting the leather satchel slung across my body. "Copies have already been sent to our lawyers, to the SEC, and to three different journalists who are very interested in taking Hoffstead down."
"And the originals?"
"In this bag, going with us to the board meeting." I check my reflection one more time, adjusting the collar of my blouse. "We present the evidence, we call for an emergency vote, we end this."
Knox offers me his arm with courtly formality. "Shall we go conquer our enemies, my valkyrie?"
"Let's burn them to the ground." I take his arm, feeling the solid strength of him beneath my fingers. "Professionally speaking."
The ride to the office is quiet, charged with anticipation and something that feels like the calm before a storm. Knox keeps my hand wrapped in his on the center console, his thumb stroking absently over my knuckles, and every few minutes he glances at the braid behind my ears.
The elevator ride to the executive floor feels endless. The numbers climb with a flutter of nervous energy in my stomach. The documents are solid. The evidence is irrefutable. Hoffstead is done, finished, destroyed by his own greed and arrogance.
The elevator doors slide open on the executive floor, and we step out together into the hallway leading to the main boardroom.
I can see through the glass walls that the board members are already assembled, gathered around the long table with expressions ranging from anxious to openly hostile.
Knox's hand settles warm and grounding on the small of my back, and I straighten my spine, preparing for the final confrontation.
And then I see Hoffstead.
He's standing at the head of the table, smug smile firmly in place, but he's not alone.
Two uniformed police officers flank him, their hands resting on their belts, their expressions professionally neutral.
Hoffstead's gaze finds us through the glass, and his smile widens into something sharp and predatory.
"There they are. Officers, those are the two individuals who broke into my office last night and stole confidential documents from my private safe. I want them arrested immediately for breaking and entering, corporate espionage, and grand theft."