Kristen Ashley - Knight

He stared at me and he did this a long time, giving nothing away.

So I went on softly and now uncertainly, “I didn’t know what to get you.”

“Jesus, fuck,” he finally muttered.

“Knight?”

“Jesus, fuck,” he repeated.

“Did I… was that okay?”

He buried his face in my neck and groaned, “Jesus, fuck. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

I didn’t know what to make of this.

“Knight?” I called.

His head came up.

“Yes,” he clipped. “Yes, Anya, baby, fuck me, baby. Yes, that was fuckin’ okay. That was fuckin’ beautiful what you gave me.”

It was. He believed that. What I gave him meant something to him.

It meant a lot.

Tears filled my eyes.

“Knight,” I whispered.

“Fuck me,” he whispered back, staring at me, his eyes burning because his heart was beating there.

God.

Beautiful.

I smiled, lifted my head and, lips to his, I whispered, “I’m kinda not done.”

“Fuck me,” he repeated and I smiled bigger.

“But you’ll need to get off me.”

I watched his eyes close slowly and then I watched as emotion washed over his features.

And I did this mesmerized.

God.

Beautiful.

Then he touched his mouth to mine, slid out and got off me, pulling me up with him. He held me close with an arm around my waist as I got steady on my feet.

Then when I shot him a grin, he muttered, “Nightie, babe, desk.”

So that was the soft whoosh.

My man, even pissed, he always remembered to take care of me.

My grin got bigger.

Then I went to the desk and pulled the red, silk and lace short nightie with the high slits up my sides that Knight bought for me over my head. I shot him another grin as I walked out to see he was still standing at the couch, he’d adjusted his trousers and his eyes were on me.

The minute I knew he lost sight of me, I moved fast.

I had it all planned and I put it in motion quickly. I cleaned up and took my shoes off. Then I grabbed the bag of wrapped presents. Then I went to where I’d hidden the store bought, fancy decorated cake with the candles and lighter. I shoved the candles in and lit them. Then balancing the cake in both hands with the bag of presents dangling, I went back to his study.

Knight was sitting, ass to the desk where I’d spent a memorable amount of time, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes to his crossed feet, hands at his sides, fingers curled around the desk’s edge but his head came up when I walked in carrying the cake.

His eyes went to the cake then to me and instantly his face got soft and his eyes warm but surprised and definitely pleased.

Totally beautiful.

“Jesus, baby,” he whispered as I walked to him.

I stopped in front of him.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

His eyes stayed locked to mine.

“Anya.”

I waited. He said no more.

“Make a wish and blow out your candles, honey,” I whispered.

His body didn’t move and neither did his eyes.

“Make a wish, Knight.”

His eyes then moved, roaming my face, down my body, the cake, more of me then back to my eyes.

“Honey, the candles are gonna burn out,” I prompted on a grin.

“Let ‘em,” he replied. “Got nothin’ I want. Everything I want is standing right in front of me.”

Oh.

My.

God.

My nose stung and my eyes filled with tears.

“Please,” I begged softly, “blow out the candles, Knight.”

He held my eyes. One tear slid out my left, followed by another on my right.

Then he bent forward and blew out the candles.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He grabbed the cake and plopped it on his desk. Then he pulled the bag out of my hand and tossed it on one of the two chairs angled at the front of it. Then he yanked me between his legs, in his arms, doing it roughly, holding me tight, one arm around my waist, one hand in my hair, his mouth crushed down on mine and he plundered it.

I melted into him, my arms snaking around him and I let him.

He let my lips go, my head moved back an inch and his hand slid around to cup my jaw, his thumb moving through the wet left by the tear.

“Don’t cry for me, Anya, don’t ever cry for me,” he murmured.

“Is that an order?” I teased and his eyes went from his thumb to mine.

“Yes.”

My arms slid from around him so my hands could curl around his neck and I pressed up so I could touch my forehead to his.

“Lemon drops,” he murmured and I smiled.

He remembered.

God, I loved this man.

“Praise God for faulty, cheap cell phones,” I muttered. Knight’s body gave a short jerk then both his arms closed around me hard as he burst out laughing.

* * *

“So which present do you like best?”

I was fishing for information, lying in bed in my red nightie next to and mostly on Knight, up on a forearm in his chest, smiling into his face.

“Uh… seriously? You askin’ that shit?”

“Scary, crazy, hot punishment and resulting scary, crazy, hot, hard fucking not included,” I amended my question and Knight’s arm curled around my waist got tight as he chuckled.

Then he answered, “The Black Sabbath tee.”

I tipped my head to the side and asked, “Not the biography on Beethoven?”

“Babe, got no time to read.”

“But you like his music.”

“What?”

“It was playing in your office when you, um… carried me in that first time.”

He studied me but I could tell he was harking back then his face got soft and he asked quietly, “You remember that?”

I felt my face get soft too and I whispered, “I remember everything.”

His hand slid up my side even as his arm got tight again. He murmured, “Baby.” I dropped closer and he finished, “But that was Bach.”

It was me who blinked then I giggled and asked, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, whatever,” I muttered then offered, “If you don’t read, I will. Out loud. In bed. To you.” I grinned. “Naked.”

He grinned back and remarked, “Bet that’ll make Beethoven interesting.”

“I read the jacket cover. He’s already interesting. Or he was.”

“You can do it, babe, but you do it naked, I won’t hear a fuckin’ word no matter how interesting.”

“Then maybe I should put on a snowsuit,” I suggested, his arms again closed around me as he burst out laughing and rolled me to my back.

Then he lifted up, his hand coming to my face to trail lightly along my skin but his eyes didn’t leave mine.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmured.

My belly melted, my arms snaked around him and I whispered, “Oh, honey.”

His hand quit trailing, slid into my hair and he shared, “Even before Carl came into my life, Mom did her best, every year. Went all out. Got some of her girls to help. Carl was there, got even better. But this was the best.”

Suddenly, my nose started stinging, this meant so much to me I whispered in a fierce whisper, “Good. I’m glad. That’s what I wanted to give to you. That’s what I wanted for you. And since I found out Wednesday that today was your birthday, I’ve been in a panic because I had no idea what to do to make it special for you. So I’m glad I figured it out and could give it to you.”

“Jesus, fuck, fuck me,” he whispered back, his eyes blazing into mine.

“I love you, Knight.” I kept whispering then my lips quirked and went on, “And the good news is, it’s barely even your birthday. You have birthday breakfast, birthday lunch and birthday dinner to look forward to. I have it all planned and I did a whopper of a grocery shop so the food’s already here. And I’ll be making you a homemade cake, not that store bought thing I brought into your study. I got that just so the presentation would be good. And since it’s Sunday and I have you all day, you have me all day, wherever you want, whenever you want, whatever you want to do to me.”

I was so busy laying it out, I didn’t notice his reaction to it until his hand slid into my hair, fisted and his mouth came to mine.

“Shut up, Anya,” he rumbled.

“Okay,” I breathed, staring into his heated eyes.

“You need to sleep because I’m gonna eat your birthday breakfast, lunch, dinner and cake and I’m gonna do you in all the ways I can think of doin’ you and you need to be prepared.”

“Oh…” it was unsteady and remained unsteady when I finished, “kay.”

His fist in my hair relaxed and he went back half an inch.

“Love you, babe.”

“And I love you, honey.”

“No,” he stated firmly, his eyes locked to mine, “love you, babe.”

Oh God.

Oh God.

I sucked in breath to make my nose stop stinging (again!) and then I slid a hand to his chest, up, feeling the hair abrasive, yet awesome, against my skin until it was up with fingers curled around his jaw.

Then I whispered, “And I… love you… honey.”

He dropped his head and kissed me, wet and sweet. Then he lifted it up, reached across me to my nightstand to turn out my light. He rolled to his to turn that out. Then he rolled back to me and curved his body into mine, his arm wrapped tight around my belly, tucking me close.

I sighed, snuggled deeper and relaxed into him.

My eyelids were drooping when he called softly, “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

His hand slid up and curled tight around my breast. My eyelids drooped for a different reason.

“You go out again, don’t care where or with who, without a man on you, it’s the cane.”

Oh my.

“Get me?” he asked.

“Got you,” I whispered.

“No joke, babe.”

“Okay, Knight.”

His hand relaxed but didn’t move.

My body relaxed too.

Then I murmured, “’Night, honey. Happy birthday.”

“Shut up and go to sleep, babe,” was his reply.

I giggled.

Then about two minutes later, I did what I was told.

It was a sunny day but hazy. The bright green grass, fluttering insects, dripping willows and daisies dotting the lawn looked like they were seen through a filtered lens on a camera.

I lifted the delicate china cup and sipped my tea.

“You never pay attention.”

My head jerked and sitting with me at the table with an elaborate tea service on it, a tiered plate of perfectly decorated petit fours was my aunt. Her lined, sneering face was topped with a huge, wide brimmed, heavily decorated, absurd hat.

“What?” I asked.

“You never pay attention, Anya,” she snapped. “Look around. What do you see?”

I looked around then looked at her.

“Beauty,” I answered.

“Trash, Anya, it’s trash, you’re trash,” she leaned across the table, slamming her own tea cup down and hissed, “he’s trash.”

Then everything melted and she was sitting in her preposterous hat and all around her was tall, steaming, reeking piles of hideous trash.

* * *

I jerked awake, my eyes opening and I pulled in a breath thinking in that split second I hoped I didn’t wake Knight. He seriously hated it when I had a bad dream.

Since I was pressed to his side, head resting on his chest and his arm was around me, this hope was dashed quickly and I knew it when his arm got tight.

“Anya,” he growled, sleepy, sexy, rough and annoyed.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

Nothing.

Then, “I change my mind, I’m glad that motherfucker bled out in the yard.”

Oh boy.

“What was this one about?” he asked.

The room was dark. I knew it was late since it was summer so dawn kissed Knight’s apartment early. But Knight had told me weeks ago that he wanted me to talk out each dream, thinking if I let it go, they’d eventually let go of me.

So far, this wasn’t working.

“It’s still dark, let’s go back to sleep,” I whispered.

“I won’t ask again.”

I sighed then I told him quickly about tea, filtered lenses, my aunt, her hat and trash.

“That fuckin’ cunt,” he grumbled, “follows you in your dreams.”

“I’m okay.”

Nothing, but his arm was still tight.

“Honey, seriously. I’m used to this. I’ve been having them for years,” I assured.

“We’re gonna see about you stoppin’ having them.”