Kristen Ashley - Knight

I got out the “go” in “ago” but just barely before his hand in my hair tilted my head one way, his slanted the other and his mouth slammed down on mine.

Then he plundered and I held on, like usual, like always, enjoying the ride.

He tore his mouth from mine but slid his lips along my cheek to my ear, holding me close, tight, in a way it felt he’d never let me go and he whispered, “Fuck, I love you.”

“I know, sweetheart. I love you too. And, while we’re sharing secrets, you should know that I figured that out when you put the blanket on me.”

His head came up and he caught my eyes.

“What?”

“Our first, very long, very weird, very intense date. I fell asleep and woke up and you put a blanket on me. Not since my parents died has anyone cared if I might get a chill. Until you. A man who would think about that and do something about it, I knew deep down in a place that made me smile, was the man for me. I didn’t get it until, well… just now. But, you know… you should know.”

He grinned at me but muttered, “Never throwin’ that blanket away.”

“You try, I’ll wrestle you to the ground.”

I felt his body shaking against mine and I smiled at him.

Then my smile faded and I whispered, “One other thing you gotta know, honey, and I’m sorry, but Nick set that up with Drake Nair. He was on the street outside my place. He watched it. He didn’t get close to me but Nair told me Nick spoke to him and I know by the way Nick was watching me that he was the one to set that up.”

I watched Knight pull in a sharp breath then blow out an annoyed sigh.

Then he muttered, “Sorry, baby.”

“Me too, but it’s done so whatever.”

“Not whatever, puntin’ this shit to Carl.”

My head tilted and Knight started to run his fingers through my hair as he replied, “Been dealin’ with it. Not dealin’ with it anymore. Carl knows Nick’s fuckin’ up this bad, he’ll lose his mind. Brace, babe, he’ll also strap his ass into a seat in an airliner about five minutes after I share and he’ll come to Denver and rip his boy a new asshole.”

I blinked.

Knight’s lips twitched.

“Just so you know, Carl was muscle for a local big man. Only way he could pry my Mom from her pimp was bein’ able to jack him up. Somethin’ he did. Carl is a good man but that doesn’t mean he’s clean. What he is, is big, built and he did and still does take care of himself. Nick has not made a habit of fuckin’ up exclusively with me. Carl has a way with gettin’ him to get his shit in line. Nick doesn’t take Carl’s way, the least he’ll do is make certain that shit no longer leaks to you and me. And Carl will probably be all kinds of pissed that I kept what I have from them and he’ll be loud about it. You’re around, don’t take that shit in. He’ll get in my face but he’d never hurt a woman or freak her out directly. After he tears me a new one, you happen to be there, swear to Christ, babe, he’ll turn to you and offer to get you a beer and give you a foot rub.”

I started giggling.

“No joke,” Knight told me.

I giggled harder.

Knight watched, smiled and his fingers ran through my hair.

I pressed closer.

Then his smile died and he said gently, “Okay, baby, you got it all, now you got my word that’s all there is but it’s also all you’re gonna get. That shit, the girls, the Russians, it is my business, not my life. You are my life. That doesn’t leak to it, except what I gotta do to maintain it that takes my time and energy. You are not new best friend to fifty-seven bitches. That does not exist for you. Rhash, he’s tight and gettin’ tighter with Vivica. He wanted no secrets, nothin’ between them. But you should know, he laid down that law with her too. Business is business, home is home, life is life. The first, you and Viv don’t have shit to do with, both of you are only the last two. You gotta share with her you know, so she knows she doesn’t have to worry that she’s keepin’ somethin’ important from her girl, you two talk. Once that’s done and outside of that, babe, we live quiet. You with me?”

I nodded.

His eyes roamed my face.

Then he whispered, “You’re with me.”

“Always, Knight.”

His gaze came to mine.

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “Fuck me,” he repeated then warmth washed over his face and he said it again. “Fuck me.”

He said that when I did something that moved him (and, of course, other times).

And that’s when I got it. For Knight, my sweet never went sour.

And that meant everything to him.

So I knew then I was giving him everything just the same as he was giving me.

And that meant everything to me.

So I pressed into him, my arms around him got tight, my head tilted back further and I smiled at my man.

I felt Knight’s hand slide lightly between my legs.

“Wake up, baby,” he whispered in my ear and my eyes drifted open.

He’d called before I went to sleep and told me what he wanted me to wear to bed (my red nightie with the black lace and, as usual, nothing else) and not to pull the covers over me.

So I didn’t.

I was lying mostly on my belly, my top leg hitched high, my bottom leg slightly crooked, perfect access and I knew this when my belly curled at what his hand was doing between my legs.

“I’m awake,” I muttered sleepily.

“Good, baby,” he whispered, lips still at my ear. “Get up. Position for Daddy. You know how I like it. Facing the headboard. Arms up in the air. Yeah?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” I agreed softly and his finger trailed deeper through the wet gathering between my legs.

My eyes closed.

My reward.

Then his hand drifted away as did his heat at my back.

I shifted up. Getting on my knees, sliding them wide, I slowly lifted my arms up into the air.

I felt Knight move in behind me. His hands glided on the silk of my nightie, all over it and that felt lovely. His lips came to my neck and worked there. That felt better. Then his fingers curled into the deep lace edge at the bottom of the nightie and he slowly pulled it up my body. His mouth left my neck, the nightie cleared my hands and was gone.

“Right, baby,” his lips were back at my ear, “hold onto the headboard. Keep your hands there. Don’t move them. And you can talk if you want. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay,” he whispered in my ear then his tongue trailed down my neck as I dropped my arms and grabbed onto the headboard.

Then his hands came back to me, moving, gliding, sliding, over my ribs, belly, hips, down the outside of my thighs, up the insides. A barely-there touch between my legs. Lips and tongue at my neck, my shoulder. Hands drifting up my sides, over the curve of my armpits, down my arms then back.

I trembled and held on as his light, loving touch melted through me.

More gliding, sliding then one hand went south, one hand curled around my breast.

Yes.

“Does my baby want her Daddy to play with her?”

“Yes,” I breathed, quivering , waiting, wanting to strain against his hands that were cupping me warm but not giving me anything.

“You can move, Anya. I wanna feel you get excited,” he whispered in my neck.

I was already excited.

But.

Goodie.

Knight played. I moved, moaned, whimpered, strained, rubbed, rolled.

Oh God. Fantastic.

When I could take no more, my head fell back, hitting his shoulder and my neck twisted.

Pressing my forehead into his neck, I begged, “I need you, honey.”

“Arch your back, tip your ass and take me.”

I obeyed immediately.

Knight’s cock surged inside.

My head flew back and I moaned.

“Fuck, my baby likes my cock,” he growled, one hand still at my breast rolling and tugging my nipple, his other hand still between my legs, finger working my clit and he was right-ish but I didn’t like his cock. I loved it and all of him. “Move, Anya, meet me. Fuck me while I fuck my baby.”

I did, hard. Slamming back into him as he thrust into me.

“My baby likes it rough. Love that, love it when she fucks herself hard,” he grunted.

Oh yeah, I loved it too.

“Christ, this cunt, my cunt, so fucking sweet.”

Oh God. I loved that too.

I moved faster, harder.

His fingers at my nipple tugged sharper, his finger at my clit pressed and rolled deeper. My whimpers came faster, more desperate.

“Give that to me,” he growled in my neck, my back arched further, my ass tipped up higher, my head pressed into his shoulder and I came on low moan. “Fuck yeah. Keep givin’ that to me, baby,” he groaned and his hands and cock kept at me so I had no choice but to comply.

When I was whimpering so much it was a keen, every inch of my skin oversensitive, Knight stopped manipulating my nipple and his hand cupped my breast. His finger at my clit stopped pressing and rolling and his hand slid deep, fingers separating around our connection, cupping me. He kept driving into me until both hands tensed, fingers digging deep and I felt and listened to him find it.

As he came down he took me gentle then slid in full and both his arms moved to wrap around me, one at my belly, one under my breasts.

“Love you, baby,” he murmured against my skin.

“Love you too, Knight,” I murmured back.

“Stay there, don’t move. I’ll be back. Gonna clean you up.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” I whispered.

Gently, he slid out, his hands drifting across my skin in a light caress as his arms left me then I felt the bed move as he got out of it. I saw dim light, heard the faucet in the bathroom then I felt the bed move as he came back. He wrapped an arm around my belly then glided a warm cloth between my legs and my hips jerked.

“Sensitive?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Like it like that,” he muttered.

I did too.

He kissed my shoulder and the cloth went away. “Don’t move.”

“Okay.”

He left the bed again to take the cloth back to the bathroom but wasn’t gone long before I felt him enter it again at his side.

Then he ordered, “Climb on me, Anya.”

I shifted to him immediately. He had his back to the headboard, legs straight so I threw one over his hips to straddle him. His arms closed around me, pulling me to him. His knees cocked and I felt his thighs against my bottom, his big, powerful, hard, warm body lightly and openly cocooning me.

Now that. That I loved.

I settled my weight into him, cheek to his collarbone, forehead to his neck. His hands drifted, sweet, light, beautiful on my skin. Fingers gliding through my hair making it slide along my back adding to the caress.

I melted into him, giving him more of my weight. We did this and we did it often. I totally loved it. It was supremely comfortable. It made me feel safe, precious, treasured. I could sleep like this and I knew that as a fact since I’d fallen asleep against him when we did this more than once.

“You dream?” he muttered.

“No,” I answered.

He drew in a slow breath then let it out.

They were gone, my dreams. The good ones, the bad. My sleep was dreamless, completely. It felt bizarre not having them but I didn’t miss them.

Knight had been right. It took some time but talking them through, living our life, I let them go and they left me.

“Know it’s late, Anya, but we got somethin’ to talk about,” he said quietly.

I pressed my lips together and tried not to tense.

We did. I just didn’t know I’d given that away. I thought I’d been hiding it.

But Knight noticed everything.

One of his arms closing around me, he angled to the side taking me with him and the light came on. I blinked in the sudden bright and then focused on his hand at the nightstand, fingers curled around and thumb flipping up the top of a small, square, expensive-looking box.

Then he pulled out what was inside as I held my breath, stayed completely still and watched as his hand came back, lifted mine from his chest and somehow he managed to position and slide the ring on my finger.

It was a band, thick gold at top and bottom, the middle inlaid all around with sparkling, perfect, not small by a long shot diamonds.

I stared.

His fingers curled around my hand then brought it back to his chest and pressed it flat.