The Knight (Endgame #2)(56)
“I’m sure I can think of a way to fuck you without killing myself.” He considers that. “Almost sure. Doesn’t matter. There’s no way I’m waiting two weeks to feel your sweet cunt.”
The word is a stroke between my legs, making me whimper. “It’s too soon.”
“If you don’t climb on top of me, it will be too late.”
My eyes widen as I realize he’s telling the truth. His erection presses against his pants, taut and large. Just from talking to me, looking at me. He would rather break his bones than need me, but he doesn’t get that choice. I thought I was powerless, but he’s the one bound.
Carefully, slowly, I climb onto the armchair, placing my knees on either side of his legs. He makes a low sound when I brush against his chest, but when I try to pull away, he clasps me tight.
I reach between us, unleashing his cock. It falls against my stomach, heavy and slick at the tip. I bite my lip, pressing it between my legs. When I look up at him, he’s watching the place where we touch, his lids low, hands holding my thighs hard enough to leave marks.
“Dying?” I ask him softly.
He laughs and then groans. “Fuck yes.”
I press down, sheathing him, savoring the ache from his size. When I’m seated against him, I can feel his legs under my ass, his coarse hair against my bare skin. He flexes inside me, and my body clenches in response. It’s a wordless communion, an echo of the look we share. It’s unbearably intimate to see his expression, his need. Unbearably vulnerable to know he sees the same in me.
Rising up, I gasp at the slide of him. When I’m at the apex, his fingertips dig into my hips, dragging me back down again. Our bodies clasp together, and he groans.
“Again,” he demands.
My legs tremble, but I obey him, thrusting myself on top of him, using my whole body to pleasure him, shaking muscles squeezing him inside, slick flesh adding friction.
A tortured sound fills the space, and I realize it’s me. It’s one thing to let him plunder me, to open my legs and feel him slide inside—another thing to be the force of my own submission, to let gravity and my own desire to please him stretch me wide.
It felt like fucking heaven to break you open. That’s what he said, and I see that it’s true. A strange release to feel the pain, to inflict it, to choose who to hurt. And then his eyes flash with agony, his cock pulses inside me, and his body goes tense as he comes with a loud groan.
My flesh can only ripple around him, only want and need and flux, until his thumb goes to my clit, a rough flick—that’s all I need. It sends me over until I’m pressing myself against his hips, my flesh tender against the coarseness of his hair, sex damp with his spend.
I fix our clothes and move to stand. He pulls me back to his lap.
“Look at me,” he says, voice soft with threat.
It’s a struggle, but I meet his gaze. “Gabriel.”
“I thought you were going to die in that house.”
“We’re safe now,” I whisper, wanting to reassure him. Wanting to reassure myself.
But I’m not sure we can ever be safe with Jonathan Scott in the city. He killed my mother. I know that now. That house was my family’s castle. We were invaded by a Trojan horse in the form of hidden cameras, ripped apart by a weapon in the form of a secret.
And Jonathan Scott could strike again at any time.
For now we’re safe behind thick walls.
We need to fortify them for whatever comes next.
“I thought I was going to have to watch you die, Avery. Do you know what that did to me? Seeing you in danger and unable to help you?”
The anguish in his eyes rips a hole through my shield. I have nothing to protect me, nothing to do but admit the truth. “It would have done the same thing to me if I’d left you there.”
I touch my forehead against his, closing my eyes. He pulls in a shuddering breath.
“Then we both lost,” he murmurs. “A stalemate.”
“Both of us helpless. Both of us trapped.” The fate he wanted for my father, but it bound us together instead. A curse reflected in black-and-white, each side a mirror.
Neither of us can escape. Neither of us wants to.
“To remain,” he says, his hands tightening on mine.
And that’s what we are. I wouldn’t change it for the world. Not for a million dollars. Some games you prefer to lose. I will remain on this board with him, the man I love.
“Play with me?” I whisper against his lips.
“Always.”
Epilogue
We spend the next week in bed, in the library. In his office. Doing all manner of illicit things, some even illegal in a few states. Neither of us feel inclined to leave the safety of these walls. But eventually the world intrudes. Gabriel gets a call from Charlotte telling him a merger needs his attention.
He’s dressed in a suit, his jaw freshly shaved, his eyes veiled. Standing in the middle of the room, he exudes confidence and strength. I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of the chessboard to him like this.
I leave the bed, my nightgown a slinky contrast to his stark power. “Have a nice day, Mr. Miller.”
He tucks me against his side, the suit fabric cool against my arms. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Of course.” I give him a chiding look. “You’re the one healing from fractured ribs. I’m completely fine.”