Knight (Unfinished Hero #1)(79)

“Who owns you, baby?”

“You do.”

Another flick, my h*ps jerked again and I mew slid out of my throat.

Two of his fingers slid inside, deep, and I bit my lip.

“Who owns this cunt?” he whispered.

“You do.”

“Who does?”

“You do, Daddy.”

Another flick, another hip jerk, another mew.

God!

His fingers slid out and he went back to playing.

“Who possesses your beauty?”

“You do.”

“You’re right, Anya, I do.”

I waited for the flick and didn’t get it so I whimpered.

His hand went away and I whimpered again.

“Tonight, my baby feels greedy,” he muttered.

I was always greedy.

“Bend to me,” he ordered.

Instantly, I bent to him. Halfway down, his hand caught my hair.

“Stop.”

I stopped, his hand gathered my hair and twisted it then he put pressure on and my face was heading to his c**k that his hand was still stroking. He guided my mouth to it, my lips opened and I took the tip before his fist in my hair got tight.

“Just the tip, baby, hold onto Daddy’s c**k and roll me with your tongue.”

Yes, I wanted this. I wanted more but I’d take this.

My lips closed around tight and I rolled him with my tongue as he stroked. This was hot. I loved the taste of him, the silk of him on my tongue.

“Sweet cunt, sweet mouth, my sweet baby,” he whispered.

Then his hand went away and his h*ps surged up, filling my mouth with his cock.

Heat flooded me and I took him.

His hand in my hair gave me my cues, he wanted me to stroke and suck.

I did. Fast, hard, working it, loving it, listening to him groan, feeling his hand in my hair, wanting my hand between my legs, or his hand, but getting more excited because I couldn’t have either.

God, I could come just doing this.

His fist in my hair pulled me back and his voice growled, “On your back, knees up, legs spread, hands behind your knees opening you wide. Prepare to take me.”

I rolled, lifted, positioned and he was right there, c**k in his hand, guiding it in, his other hand in the bed beside me, arm straight.

He drove into me.

My neck arched, my back left the bed, my own hands jerked my legs even wider. Nothing better.

Nothing better than being connected to Knight.

“Eyes,” he grunted, driving fast, deep, brutal, f**king me raw. My chin tipped down and my eyes went to him. “You can touch me.”

Immediately, my hands went from behind my knees to him.

He dropped his forearms to the bed beside me, giving me some of his weight, still thrusting fast, hard, but my hands had more available to them so they moved over his skin, his muscle and they did this feverishly.

“You love me?” he growled in my ear.

My hand slid into his hair and fisted. “Yes, honey.”

“Who do you love?”

“You, Daddy,” I gasped, it was coming.

“No, baby,” he whispered. “That’s sweet and you know I love it but say my name. Who do you love?”

I turned my head, shoving my face in his neck and breathed, “I love you, Knight.”

His head came up, mine went back, his eyes caught mine through the darkness and his c**k slammed into me as he growled, “You love me, Anya. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, honey,” I breathed, holding on, my arm tightening around his back, my fist tight in his hair.

“Never, baby.”

“Never, Knight,” I gasped then came.

He f**ked me harder.

Oh God.

“Give me your face,” he grunted, slamming into me and I focused on him. “That’s it, baby, give me that beauty.”

Then his mouth crushed down on mine, one of his hands shafting up, fingers driving into my hair, fisting, his tongue thrust in, started plundering, his h*ps went wild and he groaned down my throat.

He kept plundering then he gentled the kiss and his c**k started gliding then he planted himself to the root, his lips slid to my ear and his fist loosened in my hair but his fingers stayed tangled there.

“My mother named me Knight because she needed one.”

Sated, still coasting, his unexpected, revealing words made my body still.

Then I wrapped my legs around him and held tight.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, voice low, nearly hoarse, “so f**kin’ sweet.”

“Tell me,” I whispered back, giving him a squeeze.

His head came up, he shifted slightly to the side but stayed connected to me. He did this so his hand could slide out of my hair to wrap around the side of my neck and his thumb started stroking my jaw.

“Her little man,” he whispered, “her knight. I would protect her, she told me. She needed that. She was so f**ked up, her life so jacked, her only hope was a f**kin’ baby.”

My body melted under his but my limbs stayed tight as my hand in his hair drifted so my fingertips could brush through the curls at his neck.

“I hate that for you,” I whispered back.

“It’s what she raised me to be. It’s all I know, Anya. Protection. I was born then I was raised to be a shield.”