Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(64)

She had healed, grown stronger, but it hadn’t been a short road. She needed to touch his mouth. Her fingers flexed in his hold and his eyes darkened. “What is it, Rachel?”

“Just…ghosts walking over my grave.”

He knew it frustrated her, how those specters of the past could still ambush her, though admittedly far less than before. She hoped. That distracting mouth firmed, and he cradled her face, a thumb stroking along her lips. “I’ll have to talk to them about doing that. Into the pool.”

She stepped in obediently, taking his hand to steady her as she went up the steps on one side and down the opposite, into the pool. The water was blissfully warm. When he was with her here, there was another ritual they observed, one that went all the way back to the first time he’d made his feelings for her known.

There was a raised platform on the pool floor that looked like rock, blending in with the rest, but the rock was a sturdy foam that cushioned the knees. She sank down on it, and clasped her hands behind her back, straightening her back and raising her chin. The posture lifted her breasts, the shoulder-width kneeling position opening herself to him however he desired to touch her.

She remembered his words then as if he’d just said them.

“You’d stay in that position, knowing nothing was required but to sit like that while I took my fill of viewing what was mine. And it would drive you as crazy as it would drive me, until I’d be so hard I’d have to fuck you against the wall.”

Jon stripped off his clothes. Though her lashes were lowered as was appropriate, she could feel his gaze upon her. Fortunately, she could see his naked torso from feet to waist. The light coating of dark hair on calves and thighs, around his sex. He was already partially erect and growing harder, thicker.

He stepped into the water. For the next few moments, he tended to himself, using the soap and shampoo from those convenient niches to clean his skin, wash his hair. When he ducked beneath the water and came up, she dared a short peek to see him slick his dark hair back against his skull. When it was wet, it came past his shoulders. He was not as broad or muscular as the others of the K&A team, but every inch of his lean body was taut, and she knew firsthand the strength in it. He could hold yoga positions almost as long as the masters under whom she’d trained.

He had pale skin, smooth like marble. Though he worked out regularly, running the paths around and near their property daily, he was a nighttime exerciser, and his work and hobbies all centered around the extensive shop where he invented things not only for work, but for pleasure. Like that incredible oil.

“What are you thinking about, sweet girl?” He had drawn closer to her, his hand settling on one of her knees. He feathered his touch over her skin under the water. When he found her cunt, she caught a moan in her throat as two lubricated fingers slid in. He also kept a water-resistant oil in one of those crevices, and had apparently utilized it to counter the water’s non-lubricating effect.

How can I please you? It was the first thought she had when he touched her, driving everything else away, but since she knew he was wanting what she’d been thinking about a moment ago, she pulled those thoughts back to the forefront, with effort. He didn’t like to repeat himself, and though the consequences of him having to do so could be quite memorable in the right ways, she didn’t brat on purpose.

“Your skin. How pale it is, but how smooth, like a marble statue.”

“Lucas says he always expects me to burst into flame at the touch of the sun.”

She smiled, but a whimper escaped her as he rubbed her inside with those partially curled fingers. Sensation unfolded in her, making her hands tighten in their clasp on one another on her lower back. “Master,” she breathed.

“I can make you come the first time just like this. It would build slow, and you’d be making those little pleading noises in your throat I like so damn much.”

His voice got even deeper, rougher, when he took control of her, and she could get lost in it.

He slid his fingers from her and took her elbow, bringing her off the dais. He moved her to the pool wall and put a palm on her back, exerting pressure to bend her forward.

“Hands where you know I want them.”

There were two stones at shoulder width, the perfect size to mold her palm over each one. No restraint this time. He would require her to restrain herself, which was far harder.

He slid his palms down her arms to her wrists and gripped them, a brief reinforcement, before he continued down her sides to her waist, her hips. “Gods, I love touching you.”

His cock nudged her backside. “Close your legs. Bring your feet side by side.”

When she did, he slid his cock in the small triangle of space the stance caused. The ridge of his head rubbed against her labia. When she shuddered, he snaked an arm around her waist and held her firmly against him, pelvis pressing against her backside.

“You’ve had girl-girl fantasies, haven’t you?”

The subject change took her off balance, but her Master had asked her a question. He also had a low tolerance for hesitation when he was in certain moods. Moods that usually happened when she needed him to be tougher with her, to knock her out of the wrong headspace, and he’d already noted the mood shift she’d tried to pass off as ghosts.

She knew her stories of that side of him surprised the other K&A women. They most often saw the gentle, patient type of Dom that Jon could be, the Master who had a gift for creating lovely toys. It wasn’t incorrect. But Jon could also be ruthless and a disciplinarian, and those sides opened a lot of crazy things in her. Things he helped to heal, no matter how often the wounds might break open.