Knight Takes Queen (29 page)

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Authors: Cc Gibbs

BOOK: Knight Takes Queen
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She suddenly shivered at the memory.

He saw her little frisson, knew what it meant. Quickly swinging his legs to the side of the table, he rose from the sofa. ‘A little shaky? Want me to carry you?’

She shook her head, colour rose in her cheeks. She was frustrated with herself for being so susceptible while he, as always, was unfailingly controlled.

‘How about I do anyway,’ he said, kicking her chair out of the way, scooping her up in his arms and moving away from the table. ‘We don’t want you hurting yourself three hours before midnight,’ he said with cool sarcasm. ‘Or prior to our test run. Who knows, you might not be up to this project after all.’

She looked up at him, furious. ‘God, you’re hateful.’

‘I know,’ he said without pretence. ‘Could we go home now?’

But they didn’t.

And her refusal made him as quietly furious as she.

Their test run was wild and wilder yet to the point of savagery. He went after her like a rutting satyr, she fought back, disputing his control, ravishing him in her own ferocious way, coming twice quickly to his annoyance, as if she wasn’t actively bloodying his back and face and damn near his dick at the time. Intent on ruining her third orgasm about to detonate, he muttered, ‘Payback, baby,’ hastily ejaculated into his wife’s vagina, per contract, and rolled away.

Deliberately deprived of her orgasm, beyond frustrated, she took a wild swipe at his face.

His reflexes sluggish with his climax still strumming, he almost didn’t catch her hand in time. ‘Jesus, that’s – my fucking – eye,’ he panted, flinging her away roughly. Falling
back in a sprawl, he lay chest heaving, eyes shut, the sting of her claw marks unprecedented.

Kate was tumbled at his feet where she’d landed, panting from both the violent sex and
extreme
frustration. She hoped there was a hell for men who did what Dominic had done to her.

A small interval passed, only the sound of harsh breathing breaking the silence.

Then Dominic came up on one elbow, and glared at her. ‘Don’t move,’ he muttered.

As if she could
, she thought, glaring back. Although if she could, she would have, just to jerk his chain.

Rolling up on his knees a second later, he leaned down, flipped her on her back and slid a pillow under her bottom. ‘There will be
no
redo of these three weeks. So fucking lie still.’ Tossing a blanket over her, he stretched for the remote on the bedside table, hit a button and a TV rose from the floor at their feet. ‘I’d ask you what you want to watch but I’m too pissed. And we’re trimming your nails.’ He glanced at the bedside clock. ‘You can move in a half-hour, not before.’ Flicking on ESPN, he slowly exhaled, then smiled faintly. ‘Fuck. At least something’s going right.’ A surfing competition in Bali was being broadcast.

With the pillow under her bottom, starkly reminded of the end game, Kate’s sense of outrage evaporated and she was suddenly overcome with euphoria. She was winning. Despite Dominic’s resistance or what she had to admit was perhaps a well-deserved anger, he was losing.

And he never lost.

She glanced at Dominic, expecting him to show signs of anger or withdrawal. Or sullenness. Instead he was lounging against the pillows, his gaze on the screen, smiling, his shoulders relaxed, his legs in a sprawl, his fingers lightly tapping the remote as though keeping time with some internal music. He abruptly laughed, then let out a cheer as one of the contestants moved up to second place. On impulse, he turned to her. ‘Did you see that? That was fucking awesome.’ A second later, he was completely absorbed again as the next competitor crested a huge wave.

Encouraged by his good humour, she touched his arm lightly. ‘I just wanted to say thank you, Dominic, for – well agreeing to this. Really, thanks.’

He looked away from the screen, stared at her, his gaze briefly blank until her words registered. When they did, he frowned and said a little impatiently, ‘I’m not sure you’re welcome.’

‘Nevertheless, I’m pleased.’

He gave her a funny look as though he wasn’t sure he should acknowledge her pleasure when his mood was so contrary. Muzzling a mean response, he said, ‘Good. I think,’ he added, sardonically and went back to his programme.

*

She woke up when he lifted her in his arms. ‘How long did I sleep?’ she murmured, drowsily.

‘Three hours. It’s midnight.’

‘Where’re we going?’

‘Guess.’

She was wide-awake in a split second.

He smiled. ‘Right. Night games, baby.’

But whether he’d become reconciled in the past three hours or was too tired to sustain his anger, when he carried her into the locked room, he said with a smile, ‘Feel free to sleep through this warm-up exercise. I don’t really need you to participate.’

His smile and pleasantries aside, they were still in this hard-core playground and she doubted she could sleep. And maybe he didn’t really mean it since he walked to an open doorway, set her on her feet and pointed. ‘You might want to use the bathroom before we begin. Take a shower if you like. It’s not necessary, but we’re probably going to be busy for a while. So,’ he smiled, ‘whatever. I’ll wait for you out here.’

It was a beautiful large room with black marble and mirrors, two glass-walled showers, an enormous sunken tub, a separate area for toilets and bidets. Built-in shelves lined one wall with stacks and stacks of white towels, wash cloths, shampoos, perfumes, cosmetics. She half expected a spa attendant to jump out from the shadows and ask her if she wanted a massage. Had she known, normally, three spa attendants were in attendance. Soon after Dominic met Kate, the staff had been given positions elsewhere, the room closed.

In fact, his call to open the apartment had come as a surprise.

Kate was grateful Dominic had said a shower was optional. After three hours’ sleep, she wasn’t ambitious enough. But she tidied up a little and returned to Dominic’s playroom.

He pushed away from the entry wall where he’d been waiting. ‘That didn’t take long.’

‘A little soap, lots of perfume. You’ll have to settle for that.’

His smile was lazy. ‘Not a problem. Ready?’

She made a little circle with her finger in a sweep of the room. ‘This all makes me a little nervous. Just so you know.’

He held out his hand. ‘We’ll take it slow.’

She didn’t move. ‘That sounds scary.’

‘Want me to carry you?’

‘Where?’

He grinned. ‘To the moon.’ Then he shrugged. ‘Shut your eyes if you want. I’ll tell you when you can open them.’

She followed his advice because it was easier not to know. And he
was
being nice, his earlier anger gone. ‘Is this going to hurt?’ she asked, as he picked her up.

‘It shouldn’t.’

Her eyes snapped open. ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

He smiled a little. ‘If it hurts, we’ll stop. How about that?’

‘OK.’ She let her eyelids fall. ‘I trust you.’

‘I don’t know if you should do that.’

But despite his contradiction, his voice was teasing. ‘Now, you’re just fucking with me,’ she murmured, his strong body flexing lightly against hers as he walked.

‘Not yet, baby. You’ll know when I’m fucking you.’ He came to a stop, made a small adjustment on something with his elbow, then deposited her onto smooth leather.

The sensation of coolness brought her eyes open. ‘Oh,’ she said, turning her head one way then the other, taking in the apparatus of the violet leather swing, her gaze guarded as she looked up at Dominic.

He moved forward, slid his hands up her ankles, calves, under her knees, spread her legs, took a step closer, his thighs resting against the seat rim. Then he slid his fingers down to her calves again and lifting gently, held her legs against his hips. Leaning forward slightly, he activated the swing and it swung back. He moved back, the swing followed. ‘Pretty simple, right?’

She took a small breath, nodded.

‘You really can sleep now if you’re tired. I’m going to take it super slow.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Last time was a pretty high octane.’ A quirked grin. ‘Bloody.’

She glanced up, saw the naked scratches and abrasions on his face and shoulders. She’d ripped off small pieces of skin here and there.

‘We’ll trim your nails later,’ he said, reading her gaze.

‘Or would you like someone to come up and give you a manicure?’

She stifled an emphatic
no
, preferring not to remind him of her previous violence. She shook her head.

He grinned at her restraint. ‘Worried?’

‘In here? Always,’ she replied honestly.

‘We’ll have to see about changing your mind, baby,’ he pleasantly said. ‘Let’s see if you can come a few times.’

‘Really? You’re not mad?’

He raised one brow. ‘Don’t ask me things I can’t answer.’ Shifting her attention to something less controversial, he let her legs drop, cupped her breast, slid his thumb over her nipple, watched it stiffen. ‘You felt that,’ he murmured, smiling faintly. ‘And this?’

She arched her back into his hand as he gently squeezed her nipple, delectable sensation gliding downward to her sex, softly pulsing through her warming flesh, instantly sending out a drumbeat of arousal to the far reaches of her body.

Bending low, he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked gently, barely touching her, the pressure so delicate, she reached up and pulled his head closer.

‘Uh-uh,’ he said around her nipple, reaching up and unclasping her hands. ‘Don’t touch. If you do, I’ll stop.’

Her hands fell away as if burned.

He tortured her with deliberately light licks and sucks, a grazing sensation of his lips, the occasional delicate scoring of her nipple with his teeth. A surprising sharp, hard suck twice.

Eliciting a lush, heated groan from Kate.

But still, he made her wait, framing her breast in his large hands, sucking first one nipple then the other, repeating the pattern for some time until she was flushed and visibly shaking. Only then did he lift his head. ‘I suppose you want to come now?’

There was something in his expression that made her wary.

‘I’m waiting for an answer, Katherine.’

‘I would like to, yes.’

‘How much?’ His voice was cool, his eyes cooler, the underlying message unmistakable.

‘I don’t care if I come the entire three weeks. Does that answer your question?’

He went utterly still. ‘You’re pissing me off. You know that.’

‘I wish I could make it better for you,’ she said, softly, looking down for a moment before she met his gaze. ‘Really I do.’

He gave her a tired look. ‘Old arguments, no good answers.’ He stared at her for a moment. ‘What the fuck,’ he said, suddenly impatient. ‘You’re my constant wet dream, and reservations aside, my dick’s psyched. So open yourself for me, baby. Let’s do this.’

Throbbing with longing after Dominic’s torturous attention to her nipples, she quickly obliged. Sliding her fingers over her slick cleft, she drew the pink, pouty flesh open.

‘Put him in.’ A brusque order, hard and flat. Leaning in slightly so she could reach his huge, grandstanding dick, he swept her legs around his waist in one smooth gesture, then took a sharp breath. ‘Your hands are cold.’

‘Lucky your dick is on fire.’

‘Lucky for both of us,’ he said, mockingly.

She glanced up, opened her mouth, changed her mind, shut it again.

‘Smart girl.’ He grinned. ‘I can always jack off.’

‘But it wouldn’t feel as good,’ she said, her smile equally impudent. Raising her hips, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection and shoved his rampant dick all the way in, smooth as silk.

When he hit bottom, they both softly gasped.

‘God damn,’ he said, a second later, half breathless.

‘Nice, hey?’ Her voice was just a wisp of sound.

He lifted his head slightly so his smile bathed her in sunshine. ‘Nice like the crown jewels in the Tower of London are nice.’

‘Or Almond Joys are nice.’

He laughed. ‘Christ, I can’t stay mad at you. You’re fucking irresistible. What the hell are we going to do?’

‘I don’t know about
we
, but
moi
is going to love you to pieces. You’re way better even than an Almond Joy.’

‘And I can make
this
way better, baby.’ Unwinding her legs from his waist, he stood up, grasped her thighs lightly and set the swing in motion. The fluid friction and sleek oscillation their hot, frenzied desire quickly gave rise to a breath-taking pleasure, disarming and stupefying to them both.

So different for Dominic as to beggar description; love did that. Made it brilliant and wonderful, not just about lust.

The difference for Kate was in expectation: she’d not considered a room like this could make her love him more. That
passions could be heightened, indulged and over-indulged. That too much of a good thing could be heady stuff indeed.

The fact that Dominic brought her to orgasm five times in a row perhaps contributed to her epiphany.

Or maybe love was love in any guise.

It altered perception, blew away foolish discord, opened eyes and healed hearts. And made even men like Dominic Knight understand the meaning of besotted.

And ultimately when Kate was finally satisfied, he came in his wife this second time, willingly.

He carried her over to the sofa afterwards, held her propped against his chest with one arm while he tossed a blanket on the cold leather. Then he placed her on her back with a pillow under her bottom. ‘It’s probably stupid, but why not if you don’t mind?’

‘I don’t mind.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t mind anything you do, I’m so crazy in love I swear I’m seeing pink unicorns. And if you dare laugh, I’ll hit you when I get up.’

He was carrying over a heavy black leather club chair and dropped it before he spoke. ‘I have no intention of laughing. And I’m sorry for being such a prick. We’ll figure this out somehow,’ he said, sitting down, sliding into a lazy sprawl. He smiled one of his warm, beautiful smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. ‘We’ll make it work.’

She blew him a kiss. ‘God, I love you. It’s terrifying in a way.’ She grinned. ‘But not very often. Most of the time, it’s that Almond Joy thing. Speaking of that kind of happiness,’ she grinned, ‘maybe I even got pregnant that time.’

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