Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(8)
He skimmed his fingertips down her back, over her buttocks to her lower back, pushing the curtain of chains out of his way. Resting his thumb in that dip just above the crease, he spread out his fingers to cover, stroke.
“Your father gave you to me, thinking it would save his precious kingdom,” he muttered. “If you were mine, they would have had to tear down my castle, brick by brick, overthrow my empire, kill me. Go to the afterlife and destroy my soul, before they could get to you. Even then, I would make whatever deal with the devil was necessary to protect you from harm. And to keep you as my own.”
“So I would be in hell with you,” she said sullenly. She’d rallied. His lips curved.
“It would be warm there. But you can find warmth here, in my arms.”
“Sugared words from a man wanting to rut between a woman’s thighs.” She tossed her head, the feathers on the mask fluttering. “As meaningless and quickly gone as his seed spilled upon them.”
“I’ll spill that seed in you, my love, and fill you with my child. Our child.”
She quivered, a reaction he felt low in his gut. They’d been trying. If they conceived here, Matt couldn’t imagine a better outcome to their fantasy. He wanted her to bear his child. He wanted to cherish and raise the life they created together.
Matt bent, sweeping her hair to the side to bare her neck, fingering the heavy collar. “This is beautiful, but you’re mine now. I want to adorn you in other jewels.”
Beneath the collar was a slightly thicker chain, the true support for her glittering dress. When he released it, leaving the wide gold collar in place, the waterfall of strands slid down her body, over her breasts, out from under her arms, to land in a pool around her feet. The sound was like a shower of coins.
He took two steps back, to better appreciate the view. And to reach for and pull on his polished calf-length black boots, a prudent defense against any other attacks from her agile feet.
As he did that, his gaze moved down her body. Proud, firm breasts, the pink nipples drawn taut. Flat abdomen, gently swelling hips. As he’d already felt, her sex was smooth, the neat folds reminding him of a furled flower he wanted to probe, tease. She was almost a foot shorter than him, and a blessed amount of her height was her long legs.
While he expected his captive was well aware she had a face and figure men would find attractive, her father would have taught her it was a tool. She was heartbreakingly unaware of her sexual appeal. Or how, combined with her many other amazing traits, she was a treasure a man would want to love for his whole life.
Moving back to her, he unhooked the chain from her wrist jesses and turned his hand palm up before her. “Put your hand in mine, in front of you. Let’s get that punishment out of the way first.”
When her lips tightened, he injected warning in his tone. “Easy or hard. Up to you.”
She seemed to consider that. Setting her chin, she reached out. Yet as he closed his hand over hers, she threw her weight back against his and tried her best to land a groin kick with one of those wooden-slippered feet.
He turned fast enough to deflect it, though he could hope Savannah hadn’t intended an exact hit. But she didn’t like to lose; he knew that.
That made two of them. Snapping to his full height, he shifted his grip to her wrist and spun her toward the pole, pinning her other arm behind her back.
“You bastard, you’re not going to—”
He put his body up against hers, making sure his intention was solidly pushed against the seam of her bare buttocks. She drew in a breath. “Yes, that’s all for you, my lady. You’ll be taking every inch of it before the night ends, in whatever orifice I choose. Because I am going to do whatever I want. You are mine.”
She snarled at him, and he turned her back around, just as quickly. He pressed her between him and the post, so that she couldn’t use her knees again. Taking her wrists, he twisted the jesses together to bind her hands before her. Their bodies were so close together, her knuckles pressed against his groin. Realizing it, she twisted her hand around, trying to grab at or claw his more vulnerable parts. In response, he stepped back and hauled on the jesses, making her stumble forward, toward him. He kept moving, using the same repeat tactic to bring her toward the couch. All while his hand was a breath away from her body to steady her. He kept her off balance while not letting her fall.
Not until they were at the couch. Then he sat down and yanked once more, this time putting her down over his knees. Her snarl was interrupted by a gasp. He pushed her down even further, her face toward the floor, her gorgeous ass centered over his lap. The tangled jesses dragged the ground and he stepped on them to hold her in that position.
“What are you…” She bucked, looking gloriously angry. She was a sight for a conqueror to salivate over, her pale buttocks writhing and quivering, her breasts rubbing against the side of his leg, her lovely legs struggling for purchase. He caught one ankle and pulled off the shoe, tossed it, then did it for the other kicking foot. No more danger to him from those.
Whap! The first blow he landed was a solid smack that left a crimson hand print on milk-white skin. She squealed indignantly and tried to bite his calf. Since it was now covered by his boot, he was protected. He proceeded to administer a very thorough and satisfying spanking. He knew the stinging sensation was intensifying when her legs were shifting restlessly, and she was muffling her aroused cries by latching onto his booted calf again, for a different reason this time, an anchor point. When the pain level increased, testing her threshold, the cries began to be broken by little yelping notes.