He kisses me hard and deep, and I stop thinking about anything except the taste of him, the feel of him, the way his hands span my waist like my heavy body is exactly what he loves. I arch into him, needing more contact, more friction, more everything.
“Come with me,” he growls against my mouth.
“Where?”
He doesn’t answer with words. Just lifts me—actually lifts me, hands under my thighs, my legs wrapping around his waist—and carries me through the apartment. I catch glimpses of sparse furniture, bare walls, canvases stacked everywhere, but I’m too focused on kissing his neck, his jaw, sucking on his earlobe.
He drops me onto the bed and follows me down, covering my body with his. The sheets are soft beneath my back, cool againstmy feverish skin. His weight presses me into the mattress, and I’ve never felt so deliciously trapped.
He pulls back to look at me, eyes roaming over my face like he’s memorizing it. His thumb traces my lower lip. “So fucking beautiful.”
No one’s ever looked at me like I’m something worth studying. Something worth wanting.
“Knight—”
“Shhh.” He kisses my collarbone, right over the tattoo. “Let me.”
His mouth traces the design, lips and tongue following the lines he drew on my skin. Each kiss sends sparks shooting through my nervous system. He moves lower, unhooking my bra and sliding it down my arms, and when his mouth closes over my nipple, I cry out.
“You’re—oh, God—”
He switches to the other side, and I’m writhing beneath him, hands fisting in the sheets. Every nerve ending is on fire. I’ve never felt so aware of my own body, so desperate for a man’s touch.
“More,” I gasp. “Please, I need—”
His hands find my jeans, and he tugs them down my legs, taking my underwear with them, and then I’m bare beneath him, and he’s looking at me like I’m something holy.
“You are fucking perfect,” he groans. “Every inch of you.”
I reach for his belt. “Your turn. Fair’s fair.”
He laughs—a low, surprised sound—and stands to strip off the rest of his clothes. I watch, shameless, as his jeans hit the floor. He’s big everywhere. Muscular thighs, narrow hips, and between them—
My mouth goes dry.
“See something you like?”
I meet his eyes and smile, extending my hand toward him. “Yes.”
He’s on me in an instant, skin against skin, nothing between us. The feel of his hot and hard cock pressing against my thigh makes me moan. I rock my hips up, seeking friction, and he swears under his breath.
My hands roam his back, his shoulders, the curve of his ass. He’s trembling, and knowing that he feels this way because ofmeunleashes a fierce affection in my heart.
He settles between my thighs. The blunt pressure of his thick cock against my slick core makes us both freeze. I’m aching and slick, blinded by the need to feel him inside me.
“Daisy.” His forehead drops to mine. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want this.” I push my body against his, my core seeking his thick cock. “I want you. Please, Knight—”
He pushes inside, watching my eyes. The stretch of him steals my breath. I gasp, my body moving up to meet his. He’s everywhere—filling me, surrounding me, consuming me completely.
“Fuck.” The word tears out of him. “You feel—God, you feel—”
“Move.” I rock my hips, urging him on. “Please move.”
He plunges into me with a desperate rhythm, and I match him thrust for thrust, my body consumed by a primal need to give him everything and to let myself feel the pleasure I crave in my soul.
I slip a hand between us, my fingers finding my slick, throbbing clit. Stars explode behind my eyes as I finger myself, and his cock drives deep. Pleasure builds and builds until I’m shaking.
