Page 62 of Knight
"Romeo!" she whispers, her head falling back against the wall, exposing more of her throat to me. Her fingernails dig into my scalp, pulling at my hair, sending jolts of electricity down my spine.
I shove her shirt up, my hands finding the warm, soft skin of her stomach. I trace the lines of her ribs, feeling the expansion of her lungs as she pants. I’m not gentle. I grab her breasts through the lace of her bra, squeezing hard, feeling the weight of them in my palms. She whimpers, arching into my touch, her nipples pebbling against the fabric.
"Harder," she demands, her voice breaking. "Don't treat me like glass."
I groan, the sound vibrating in my chest. I rip the cup of her bra down, exposing her breast to the cool air. I latch onto her nipple, sucking it deep into my mouth, flicking the hard bud with my tongue. I bite down, just hard enough to walk the line between pleasure and pain.
She cries out, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me tighter against her core. I can feel the heat radiating from her cunt, even through the denim of her jeans. It’s an inferno. It’s a magnet.
I reach between us, fumbling with the button of her jeans. I need to be inside her. I need to feel her gripping me, tight and wet and alive. I need to drown in her.
"Get these off," I command, my voice rough.
She lifts her hips, shimmying the denim down her legs. I help her, yanking the fabric and her panties down in one rough motion. They pool around her ankles, a barrier I kick away without a second thought.
She’s bare. Exposed. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I spread her thighs with my knees, settling between them. The air is thick with the scent of her arousal—musky and sweet and utterly addicting. I run a finger through her folds, and she’s soaking wet. Drenched. Her juices coat my fingers, slick and hot.
"Look at this," I murmur, bringing my fingers to my mouth to taste her. "You're dripping for me."
"Only for you," she says, her eyes locked on mine. She reaches for my cock, freeing it from my trousers. Her hand wraps around the shaft, stroking me from base to tip. Her grip is firm, confident. She knows exactly how to touch me.
I grit my teeth, the pleasure almost blinding. "Fuck, your hand feels good."
"I want more," she whispers, guiding the head of my cock to her entrance. She rubs the tip through her wetness, coating me in her essence. "I want all of you."
I don’t hesitate. I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises, and I thrust forward.
I sink into her in one long, relentless stroke. She’s tight, a velvet vise that grips me like a fist, but she takes me all. She gasps, her head falling back, her mouth open in a silent scream as I stretch her open.
"Yes!" she whispers out when I’m fully seated, my balls slapping against her ass. "You feel so fucking big."
I still for a moment, savoring the sensation of being buried to the hilt inside her. It’s grounding. It’s chaotic. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The rage is still there, but it’s turning into a primal, possessive lust that demands I claim her over and over again.
"Look at me," I order, withdrawing almost all the way before slamming back into her.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the hallway. It’s the sound of us. The sound of survival.
She meets my eyes, her gaze hazy with pleasure but sharp with defiance. "I'm looking," she pants. "Don't stop."
I set a brutal pace. I fuck her missionary on the floor, driving into her with the force of my rage. Every thrust is a declaration. Every stroke is a battle. I’m not making love to her; I’m worshipping her at the altar of violence and need.
Her nails rake down my back, tearing at the fabric of my shirt, scoring my skin. The pain sharpens my focus, makes the pleasure more intense. I like the sting. I like the reminder that she’s right here with me, fighting just as hard.
"Fuck, Romeo, your cock," she moans, her voice rising in pitch. "You're splitting me open."
"You can take it," I grunt, sweat beading on my forehead. I slide one hand between her legs, finding her clit. I rub the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles, matching the rhythm of my hips. "You were made for this."
She shudders, her inner walls clamping down around me like a vice. "Yes! Right there! Don't stop!"
I can feel the orgasm building in the base of my spine, a tight coil of heat waiting to snap. I want to fill her up. I want to mark her from the inside out.
"Come for me, Nova," I command, my voice low and dangerous. "Squeeze my cock. Let me feel you."
She lets out a broken sob, her body trembling. "I'm close... I'm so close..."
I bite her neck again, harder this time, tasting the copper tang of blood. "Do it. Now."
