Chapter 7 Knightly
Knightly
When I’d been a child, my father took me on a tour of his new construction project in town.
He’d pointed out the architecture, using phrases I couldn’t wrap my tongue around like facade, balustrade, and Romanesque.
He’d shown me the machines used to dig and the ones used to drill.
One hand on the braided copper rope, he’d explained how it could bend and twist without breaking, holding great loads while being held together.
But no structure could carry all the weight.
For the past four years, since that night in the bar when Savannah had laughed at my terrible flirting, little wires had been fraying, snapping one by one, until I was hanging on to my resolve by little more than a tenuous thread.
“I can’t.”
Snap.
The fire in her eyes at those two simple words.
It took me a few more moments than I was proud of to realize she had stomped off the dance floor and was now making her way across the room and out the door.
One fist clenched her purple dress, the other a bottle of champagne she’d swiped off the end of the bar.
Her heels clacked on the marble floor as she wound through the halls and onto a balcony overlooking the water.
Either she was too in her own head, or my footsteps were quieter than I thought because she never slowed her pace, stopping finally at a large stone bench and flinging herself onto it, tipping the bottle up to swig straight from the top.
“You can’t what?” I asked, and she jumped, her hand over her heart as she sucked in a breath.
“You followed me?”
Stopping in front of her, I leaned against the railing, crossing my feet at the ankles. “You weren’t all that stealthy, you know.”
Her eyes screwed shut, and she took a steadying breath. “You shouldn’t be here. I need a minute, or else I’m going to make a fool of myself and ruin this entire friendship.”
“You couldn’t ruin anything, Bana. I wouldn’t let you.”
She snorted, her back flat on the stone wall and her chin pointed up at the stars above us.
“You have no idea. You come here looking the way you do,”—she flung her hand out at me as if that cleared anything up—“and saying all these sweet things you absolutely don’t mean, and I know that you don’t actually want me like that, but when—”
Her statement had me reeling back on my heels.
Don’t want her? I couldn’t remember a moment since I’d seen her I hadn’t wanted to bury myself in her.
But we had gone so long as friends, and over the past four years, she had crept her way inside my life, and I would never risk losing her.
I knew that having her in some way was always going to be better than not.
Even if it was at a distance. Even if it was only harmless flirting and coy looks. But if she wanted the same ...
Snap.
“Who says I don’t want you?”
“You did.” Her finger was shaking, her gaze flashing with fury. “I threw myself at you years ago, and you pushed me off.”
“When you’d just caught your boyfriend cheating and were heartbroken? I’m not your rebound. I’m—”
What? What could I be? What did I want?
“My friend. Yeah, I get it, loud and clear.” She took another swig from the bottle. “You know, it doesn’t even matter. I’m so dumb. It’s obvious to everyone else that—” Her hands covered her face, her head moving from side to side. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
Throwing her arms out, she motioned between us. “Go round in circles. Have you smile at me with that chipped-tooth grin and say all those things and smell like fucking sunshine and say I’m yours for it to mean nothing to you!”
Sunshine? Chipped tooth? What was all this?
She rose from her bench, her long dress pooling at her feet. One strap of her gown fell over her shoulder, exposing those three freckles. “I’m not doing this with you, not anymore. In the morning, I’ll tell Darcy I’m sorry. I’m going to bed.”
Three steps toward me, and as she moved to the side to go around, my hand flashed out, grabbing her wrist. It was so thin, thinner than it should be. Had she been eating enough? I used to bring her food when she would study. Was no one reminding her to eat?
“Don’t go.”
Her gaze was on my fingers. Heat traveled up my arm. My hand slid up to her shoulder, where I fixed the strap of her dress that had fallen low.
My thumb held the strap still, so her words were to my hand, not my face. “Don’t do this to me. Not now. It’s too much if you—Just don’t.”
I had come this far; we had already said too much neither of us could take back. This was the razor’s edge that would either implode years of friendship or lead to more. “I can’t do that. Not anymore. I can’t stay away.”
Those hazel eyes studied me as if she were trying to read some old text on Baroque art. “What do you mean?”
Stepping into her, I raised my hand to sweep that long caramel curl off her shoulder, my thumb tracing the tendons in her neck down to the hollow of her throat. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About these freckles.” My pinky grazed those little spots. “About—”
She grabbed me by the collar of my white tux, slamming our lips together in an impetuously delicate move.
I let out a strangled sound, then moaned into her.
With my hand pressed against her neck, I traced small lines back and forth under her jawline.
I hadn’t known what was going to happen when I’d followed her, but this was beyond imagining.
It was warm, messy, and right. My hands grabbed her hips to pull her deeper to me, but she was already pulling away.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve—” Her big eyes widened as she brushed her fingers over her mouth.
Snap.
Blood rushed in my ears, all other sound aside from our staggered breaths drowned out.
Her lips, those perfect pink lips, were swollen and ready for the taking.
Savannah raised one heeled foot to turn, and I grabbed her chin between my fingers, stilling her.
“Oh no, you don’t. You can’t kiss me like that and think I’ll just let you go. ”
I rubbed her lower lip with my thumb, warm air washing over it from her exhale. “I don’t want you to let me go.” She parted her mouth slightly, the tip of her pink tongue darting out.
Snap
In a single sweep, my hand was in her hair, pulling her toward me by the nape, and I captured her mouth with mine. I hummed in satisfaction as the kiss bloomed between us. Years of restraint finally came undone as I took her.
I pulled her closer and pressed my hand flat against her back. She was mint and champagne and the ground after rain, washing all the sins of the day away.
Years of hunger, of denial, of biting my tongue at every moment I wanted to have her, all of it poured into our kiss. She whimpered against me, a sweet, low sound that went straight to my cock.
Her fingers bunched on my shirt, dragging me closer, and I was unraveling.
After I pressed her back until she hit the wall, my hips caged her in, cock hard and straining against my ridiculous white pants like it was trying to punch through.
I slid one hand down her thigh, gathering the silken fabric of her dress and pulling it higher to expose the back of her knee, the smooth expanse of her thigh, then over her lace-covered hips to ruck around her waist before I grabbed her ass, gripping her thigh, yanking it around my waist.
“Fuck,” I groaned into her mouth, grinding my cock over her hot center. “Can you feel what you do to me?”
Her answer was a breathless moan, her hips rolling, chasing friction.
“Do you have any idea ...” I asked her cheek, her jaw, her exposed throat as I nipped my way down the column of her neck.
“... how long I’ve wanted you?” I bit down on her collarbone, at the little grouping of three freckles where the strap of her dress stopped.
They were sweeter than I could have ever known.
With a gasp, she tightened her legs around my waist, and I licked over the spot, tempering the sting of my teeth.
“I can’t remember the last time I was breathing without the thought of you. The thought of this.”
Her nails dug into my scalp, and I could barely think through the stinging need crackling down my spine.
I dragged my mouth down her neck, sucking her skin between my teeth until she would wear my mark tomorrow.
She’d have a matching one on her thigh soon enough.
It was only right for everyone to know who could touch her like this.
“My room, let’s go to the—” I muttered, manhandling her around, half-stumbling to get my footing. I needed to get her alone and take my time, and then I’d give her whatever she wanted. I’d give her anything.
Everything.
“Show me now, here,” she cooed.
On the balcony, mere feet away from a three-hundred-guest wedding? It was ridiculous.
“Please don’t stop.” She whimpered, rolling her hips harder against me.
I was losing all semblance of control. Snap. My mouth was on her throat, my teeth scraping over her collarbone as my fingers found the scrap of lace on her hip, pulling it off in a single motion.
Tracing through her slit, I groaned low in my throat at how ready she was, slick and hot on my skin. “Is this for me?”
Her pupils were so big, her eyes were black as she nodded, and I smirked into her delicate skin as I dipped my fingers inside her, and she clenched around me as if unable to stop herself.
“Look at you—” I pressed his forehead to hers again, her eyes dark, her lips wet and swollen. “The times that I’ve pictured you like this. You’re so fucking beautiful; it makes me ache. As if you were a fantasy meant to torment me because it could never be the real thing.”
“I’m real.” She whimpered as I plunged my finger inside her, my thumb tracing a circle around her clit. Her head thrown back, she exposed her neck for my mouth as her nails dug into my shoulders. “This is real.”
“You must be because even in my dreams, you don’t drip down my hand like this.” I added another finger, stretching her gently, my palm pressing harder to her clit until she gasped, rocking her hips helplessly against me.
“Right there, more Knightly, more.” Her head thumped lightly against the stone wall. I barely noticed the summer wind whipping over the balcony as we moved together. My hand coaxed her open, her hips moving in time with me.
“You want to fuck my fingers? To come on my hand?” I rasped into her ear.
“Yes, please. More.” She gasped out, and I couldn’t fight back the wicked grin I gave her.
“That’s not how this will go.” I pulled my fingers away, her wetness clinging to my skin. Humming around my digits, I sucked her essence off them, the tang of her exploding on my tongue.
I couldn’t resist. It was so sweet. So addictive.
A sensation that overtook me like a spell.
A red flush flared over her cheeks as she watched me.
The slow slide of my tongue as I savored the taste of her as I sucked down every single last drop.
“You feel real, but I need to investigate more up close and personal to be sure.”
My mouth trailed down her throat, over her silk-clad breasts, the outline of her nipples hard through the thin fabric, and down her belly, only stopping when my face was between her thighs.
“Open for me, baby.” With one hand behind her knee, pulling her center toward me, I put her foot on the bench beside us.
The marble floor was icy under my knees, but the rest of me was burning up.
I groaned at how wet and ready she was for me, swollen and glistening. “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”
Bracketing her thighs, I held her open, my tongue sweeping through her, the real taste of her cunt sweeter than from the source. Her hands buried in my hair, holding me steady as I licked and kissed, and then as my mouth suctioned around her clit, I added a finger, pushing her closer to the edge.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” I panted out, lips brushing against her thigh as I spoke. “Make a mess of yourself for me?”
“Y-yes,” she agreed, bucking her hips against my mouth, fucking herself on my face. I felt the tension in her thighs as she tightened around me. So close. Her moans turned to gasps, and then she was shattering, her climax a vice grip on my finger and pulsing around me.
In all my years of experience with women, I had heard countless orgasms—loud ones, dry hitching whispers, screeches, and curses.
But this escape of breath as she fell apart was different.
This climax was for me, made by me. For us alone.
It was the sweetest sound and the rawest truth.
I could never go back to another after her.
Pressing a long, lingering kiss to her cunt, I turned my head to rest my cheek on her inner thigh as I looked up at her.
I love her, I love her, I love her, and I’m never letting her go.
Her grip on my hair loosened, causing it to fall to my forehead, where she brushed my strands away as her body slumped against the stone wall.
Rising to my feet, I pulled her hands down to rest on my shoulders, my own on her hips. She wavered on her feet, and she might have stumbled if I weren’t there, holding her up. “I’ve got you, Bana. I won’t let you fall.”
“Too late,” she murmured, and there was something expanding in my chest, the brightest of flames being tended and flickering to a blaze.
“Knightly, that was—” Her eyes fluttered open, a sated expression on her face. “Hmm, so that’s what all the fuss was about. Should have taken you for a spin long ago.”
Manwhore, asshole, nothing but a good lay.
That was ice water splashed over me. The cold realization that how I felt had nothing to do with Savannah. I could follow this woman to the ends of the earth, always a fool for her, but it would never make a difference.
If anyone would be down for a quick fuck, it would be you ...
Was that all I was to her? Was that all she wanted from me? Yes, I loved her. But she didn’t love me back.
Stepping away, I dropped my hands to my side and took a deep breath in, the air thick with her arousal.
It wasn’t enough. “This was a mistake.”
There was no familiar clicking of her heels on the marble floor behind me as I left her on that balcony under the sky of a perfect summer night, the darkness endless as billions of suns died.