Knight (Unfinished Hero #1)(78)

It wasn’t Knight’s responsibility he was dead. He didn’t ask for that. And I didn’t know what it said about me but digging deep and thinking about it, I could also not call up much emotion about the fact that Knight took measures to make him pay. I wouldn’t do it myself. I didn’t condone it. But I didn’t think less of Knight because he did it. He did it for me. He did it because that was the kind of man he was and that was the kind of world he lived in.

And I lived in that world now too.

This was not lost on me though I had been doing what Knight said I was doing. Burying my head. Not thinking about it. But right off the bat, Knight was always who he was, he did what he did, he never hid anything from me.

And I took his hand and walked right into his world.

I could not quibble now.

I had a choice.

Now that my head no longer was buried I could walk out of his world and never look back.

Or stay.

I also knew I didn’t have all the information. Knight said he’d tell me about him when he was ready for me to know. He doled out information carefully and unlike with everything else, he was not generous. I understood this. In his world, I was sensing, he needed to proceed with caution. Even with me. But from the little he told me of his early years, they would mark anybody. There were women, heck, not just women but people, I knew, who would hear his mother was a prostitute, part of his growing up years he grew up in that life and didn’t know who his father was and they’d think things about Knight. That would make anyone wary especially if they were falling in love. He undoubtedly faced those judgments more than once in his life. And he’d given me so much; I could give him time to share at his pace with me.

And that was just it, he’d given me so much. And I wasn’t talking phones, shoes and spas.

I was safe. I was spoiled. I was adored.

I was loved.

I couldn’t dictate how that came about.

Especially not to a man like Knight.

I heard and saw his shadowy frame walk into the bedroom and I watched, motionless, lying on my side in bed, my arms cocked, hands lying in front of me.

He moved around the bed to his side and even though my back was to him, I heard him disrobing, his expensive clothes falling to the floor.

The covers shifted, the bed moved but I didn’t.

Just like Knight, he didn’t waste time. He slid in behind me, one hand trailing down my arm to find mine, his fingers laced through and he pulled both our hands close to my chest as he pressed into my back.

I felt his body, his warmth and smelled his cologne.

I closed my eyes.

His lips came to my ear. “You find the right path?”

He knew I was awake.

I was right. He came home early worried about me. Where I was. With him.

I had to decide.

Right now.

Walk out of his world and never look back.

Or stay.

My mouth decided for me.

I opened my eyes and whispered, “Yes.”

His fingers tensed in mine and I listened to him draw in a deep breath, wondering what was next. What he’d do.

He let me go and rolled away.

I lay still.

“Up on your knees, Anya, facing me.”

I felt a heady curl between my legs.

I’d made the right decision. Call me crazy but, I was the woman for him just as I was and just as he was, Knight Sebring was the man for me.

Then I pushed up, the covers fell away and I turned, getting up on my knees, facing Knight.

“Closer, baby.”

I shifted closer.

“Lose the cami.”

My fingers went into my camisole. I lifted it up, pulled it off and tossed it aside.

His fingers trailed along the top of my thigh lightly then disappeared.

Through this and after, I trembled.

“Pull your shorts down and your panties.”

Another heady curl that whirled up to my belly.

I pulled my shorts and panties down to my thighs.

“Drop to a hip, baby, get rid of them then back on your knees.”

I fell to my hip, pulled my pajama shorts and panties free of my legs and tossed them aside. Then I regained my knees.

“Closer,” he whispered and I shifted close so my knees were against his side. “Anya,” his whisper had changed, slight rebuke, “you know what I like.”

For a second, I was confused.

Then I slid my knees out slightly wide.

I was rewarded as his hand slid up the inside of my thigh then started lightly playing between my legs.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured.

The curl started to become an ache.

He was silent as his fingers moved and played oh so light between my legs.

“Give Daddy more,” he muttered and my legs slid wider. I did good and I knew it when his thumb flicked hard against my cl*t and I gasped. “That’s good, baby.”

I noticed movement and watched as his hand went to his c**k and as he played with me, he idly stroked himself.

God, I loved to watch him do that.

I loved it but watching it, I wanted to do it. I wanted him in my mouth. I wanted him in me.

I whimpered.

His thumb again flicked my cl*t and my h*ps jerked.

“Whose world do you live in, Anya?” he asked so softly I barely heard.

“Your world.”

Another flick, oh God, God, it scored through me.