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Authors: Kelly Meade

White Knight (17 page)

BOOK: White Knight
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“I’m sorry about this afternoon,” he said. “Walking away from you and what happened after. I hate that Bishop had to pull me off you.”

“I hate that he did, too, but not for the same reason. I actually yelled at him later.”

He blinked hard, filled with sudden, mad respect for her. “You yelled at Bishop?”

“I did. Knight, I understand why you threw me off you. I shouldn’t have put you in that position, and I’m sorry, but you wouldn’t have hurt me. You’d have seen that for yourself if Bishop hadn’t interfered.”

“Your faith in me is astonishing, considering I have no faith in myself.”

“One day you will. I trust in that, and I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do, and that won’t change. You’re scared of hurting me and I trust that you won’t, so I say bring it.”

“Bring what?”

She slid trembling fingers behind his neck, a gentle hold that made his skin tingle. “All of it. I want you, Knight McQueen. I know it won’t be easy, and it might be a little scary, but I want to make love to you so badly.”

His insides quivered with anxiety and arousal, a heady mix he wasn’t sure what to do with. He wanted her, too, and it scared him to death. “You’re a Black Wolf, love.”

“I know. And I know what this means. I don’t want anyone else. Only you.”

“I’ve never—” He stopped, uncertain if he could technically say he’d never. His first time had been violent and by force. He could pretend it didn’t count, and that he’d been with no one. That Shay would be his first, and he hers.

“You’ve never what?” she asked, that gentle hand caressing his skin. Waking his senses.

He could say it. Shay wouldn’t laugh at his nervousness or make fun of him for his fumblings. She’d understand. “I’ve never made love to anyone.”

“Then we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” He pulled her hand from his neck and kissed her knuckles. “Yes, we are.”

“Excellent.” She gazed at him with incredible tenderness. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How on earth did you end up with the name Knight?”

He chuckled, amused it had taken her so long to ask. “Our mother loved playing chess. It helped ease the stress of her role as a White Wolf. When Bishop was born, she convinced our father that naming him after a chess piece would be a great match to our last name. Father put his foot down at a kid named King McQueen, so they started with Bishop and then went down the line.”

“I’ve never played chess.”

“I haven’t played in a long time but I could teach you.”

“I’d love that.”

Headlights flashed down the street, and the blue SUV rumbled into view. Knight stood and wrapped his arms around Shay, concerned at the way she was shaking. She was genuinely afraid of Atwood, and he hated the man more for indirectly causing his mate distress.

Across the street, Jillian and Rook appeared on the front porch, both awaiting the arrival of their spouses. Jeremiah and A.J. came outside a moment later. Bishop and Devlin exited from the front doors of the SUV, while Brynn and the man who must be Archimedes Atwood climbed out of the back. Atwood was on the passenger side, partly obscured by the vehicle, but the man was tall with hair as black as Brynn’s.

Devlin crossed the street, heading in their direction. He spared a nod for them both, then went inside, likely in search of his own wife. The cloud of rage he carried with him wasn’t lost on Knight. The man was going to lose his mind if Knight didn’t get him to let go of some of that hate. He couldn’t watch his best friend go down the same road he’d traveled.

Voices drifted from across the street, specific words lost to him. He imagined introductions were being made. No one shook Atwood’s hand. As the brother of the Alpha, Knight should have gone over and made nice, but he didn’t want to. Not when Shay was distressed.

“It’s all right,” Knight said. “If he even looks at you funny, I’ll rip his throat out.”

“I hate that he’s here.”

“I know, love. We all do.”

“I’d rather pitch a tent in the woods than share a roof with that man.”

The iron statement stirred a memory. He’d do anything for her. “I know where we can go.”

Chapter Seventeen

Shay laughed when Knight told her where he was taking her to sleep. He’d left her at Dr. Mike’s for a few minutes while he went over to the McQueen house, returning with two sleeping bags and an overnight kit. He was smiling, which made her happy. He reported that his brothers hadn’t given him a hard time about spending the night elsewhere, even though he admitted Bishop had insisted he take a sidearm—just in case.

He took the SUV left in front of the house and drove them to the other side of town. She recognized the general direction. They ended up behind the Burke house, in a cluster of trees and brush so thick that they barely managed to drive into it. Still in the middle of town, with the sense of being in the middle of the woods. Secluded.

They opened the rear compartment door and flattened all of the seats. Cool autumn air drifted into the interior, bringing the scent of leaves and grass. Nature.

“When we were kids, we’d pitch a tent out here,” Knight said as he arranged the sleeping bags. He fumbled a bit, clearly nervous as he made a bed for them. “Me and Rook and Dev and Winston.”

Shay stood outside, enjoying the privacy afforded by the thick foliage. They could have been anywhere in the world. “You liked camping together.”

“Yeah, a lot. We’d scare the hell out of each other telling ghost stories. Winston always knew the best ones.” He flashed her a sad smile as he sat on the edge of the vehicle. “Sorry.”

“For what? Reminiscing? I like hearing you talk about your friends. It’s important to remember all of the good times.”

“You know so much about me. Tell me something about your life. Unless it’s too painful.”

Grief bubbled up as it always did when she remembered Stonehill. It felt like a lifetime since she’d lived there, and in some ways it was. She wasn’t the same woman who’d grown up there. She searched for a memory to share with Knight, something happy and fun.

“My father had a tradition in our run,” she said. “Whenever a new child was born, we would spend the entire next day celebrating the birth. The whole town came together for a barbecue. We cooked food, and we played games. It didn’t matter if it was summer or winter, we welcomed that new life into our run with fanfare.”

“That sounds like a lovely tradition. You may have to run that one by Bishop.”

“Our population was much smaller than yours, so births were more rare.”

“Doesn’t matter. With all of the death recently, every new life deserves a parade.”

She couldn’t disagree.

He watched her with intent, assessing something. “We don’t have to do anything tonight, you know.”

“What?”

“You’re standing five feet away from me. Are you scared?”

“Not of you.” She sat next to him, her insides quivering with nerves and with the sudden proximity of him. Of having him close and knowing why they were both here. “Are you certain you want this?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” His fierce declaration sent a bolt of arousal through her.

She longed to allow instinct to take over. To drive him to the ground and take what the Black Wolf inside of her wanted. She wouldn’t do that, not to Knight, not ever. Too much had been taken from him already. She would wait and accept what he gave her.

A little bit of goading wasn’t totally out of the question. “So do something about it, White Wolf.”

His eyes narrowed, and a soft growl made her beast sit up and take notice. He captured her mouth in a kiss as determined as it was tentative. She opened, allowing him to deepen the kiss. To lick inside of her mouth, filling her with his taste, delighting her senses. She caressed his face and neck, threaded her fingers through his soft hair. So silky and thick.

He kissed her onto her back and draped his muscled body half over hers, a wonderful weight that still gave her room to move. A heavy thigh settled between her legs, pressing oh so delicately against her core. A bolt of something wonderful from that contact curled deep in her gut. She wanted more. Needed more.

His wonderful mouth pressed kisses along her jaw, licking and exploring the skin of her neck. Behind her ear to a spot that made her shiver with delight. She tugged his t-shirt out of his jeans and tickled her fingers over the smooth skin of his back. He made a ragged noise but didn’t ask her to stop touching.

He worked his way across her neck to the other ear, torturing her with the slow, sensual kisses while his hands stroked her shoulders. She pushed against his thigh and scraped her nails lightly up his back, earning another growl. He pressed his thigh into her groin as he bit the side of her chin, and Shay didn’t censor her delight.

“Please,” she said.

He released her long enough to tug off his t-shirt, revealing an expanse of tanned, muscled chest. A light smattering of dark hair ran from his navel into the waist of his jeans. She took her time appreciating the beauty of him while he stared down, eyes wide with arousal, lips wet and parted. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world and he couldn’t quite believe she was his.

I feel the same way, love.

He traced a single finger down the line of buttons on the front of her shirt. “May I?”

Her stomach twisted. Not because she was scared, but because of the scars she knew lingered on her chest. Scars of her run-in with the hybrids. Scars that would never heal, no matter how many times she shifted. One of them ran across her left breast, marring previously smooth flesh. The scars made her ugly.

But of all people, she knew Knight wouldn’t judge her.

“Yes, you may.”

He worked each button slowly, exposing a fraction of skin at a time until all were free. He paused, breathing harder, nostrils flaring. Shay helped by parting the fabric. Exposing her ruined chest and too small breasts. She trembled under his appraisal, shocked when he smiled and licked his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Shay.”

Emotion choked her, preventing words, so she responded by running her fingers down his chest, tracing those perfect abs, eager to see more. His jeans couldn’t disguise his erection, and as much as she wanted to take the lead and explore him, she held back. She waited for him to decide what was next.

“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, I promise,” she said.

He relaxed a bit, as though relieved by her statement. She berated herself for not saying it earlier. He lowered his head and kissed the skin between her breasts, over a tangle of knotted flesh. Her entire body tingled with awareness. She wanted his thigh back between her legs—or better yet, his hand—but all was forgotten when he closed his mouth around the nipple of her right breast. She gasped at the wonderful jolt that it sent to her core. He suckled and nipped, rolled the bud with his tongue and teeth, until Shay was writhing, panting. He had no mercy and treated her left breast to the same ministrations while his hands smoothed up and down her ribs, across her belly, touching only what she’d bared to him.

Everything was pulled taut, screaming for release. All he had to do was touch her in the right place, and she was certain she would explode.

And then he sat up, leaving her body cool and shivering.

***

Knight pulled back hard on the darkness that kept trying to interrupt the beauty of what she was offering him. It tickled at the back of his mind, reminding him that he was in control now. He could take what he wanted, take back his power and prove he wasn’t broken. He wasn’t spoiled or dirty or unlovable. He could do it, take her now, her pleasure be damned.

He fought hard against that instinct, because this wasn’t some nameless, faceless female whose feelings didn’t matter. This was Shay. He would make this amazing for them both, because she deserved that much from him.

But oh the sounds she made. Breathy gasps and deep-throated moans. They riled him up, made him want to turn her onto her knees and take her. Maybe one day when they were more familiar with each other he could allow himself to let go. Not today. She had waited for this long. He would make her first time something to cherish.

His erection strained against his jeans, pulsing with a desire that he’d never felt before. He was certain that if she touched him now, he would come and everything would end.

Not until she screams my name.

With shaking fingers, he undid the button of her jeans. Slid down the zipper, exposing plain white panties. The scent of her arousal grew thicker, his dick impossibly harder. She helped him slide her jeans down and off with her shoes, then the rest of her shirt, until she laid back on the sleeping bag. Naked except for those adorably simple panties. She parted her knees, offering herself to him. Showing such amazing trust that he didn’t feel worthy.

She bit her lower lip, hands balling in material below her. He saw the strain, the way she was keeping still, giving him the lead. He loved her all the more for it.

So he took the gift she was offering and peeled off that last scrap of fabric, baring her to him. A thatch of strawberry blond hair hid his prize. He knelt between her legs and inhaled the spicy fragrance of her, hit by the intense need to match that scent to taste. He bent low and flicked his tongue out to her core, putting her taste on his tongue for the first time.

Mine.

He licked her soft flesh as she exploded through his senses, driving him mad with need. The need to please her, to be inside of her, to feel her fall apart beneath him. The sharp jerk of her legs made him stay put. He suckled her clit while circling her entrance with a single finger. Her panted words were nonsensical but demanding. He slid his finger into damp heat, so perfect, so inviting.

“Oh please, more, just a little—fuck.”

He’d never heard her use that word before, shouted on the wave of her orgasm. Her legs shook and muscles clamped down on his finger. He licked her through it, not wanting it to end, loving the way she writhed and gasped. He’d done this to her. He had given her this pleasure. Him and no one else.

As she settled, he reluctantly pulled away. He could worship her for hours and never grow tired of it. She tugged at his shoulders until he dragged himself up, draping across her body so she could kiss him. A sensual, thank-you kind of kiss that kept his own blood humming. His erection pressed into her belly. He rubbed against her, the sensation prickling up his spine. Soon he would be inside her.

Panic sparked in his gut, dark and fierce.

Warm hands stroked his cheeks. He’d stopped kissing her, and Shay gazed up at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?” Maybe not the smoothest answer ever, but he had to know. Feeling her fall apart wasn’t enough.

“I’m amazing, Knight. I’ve never felt anything like that. Thank you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She traced her fingers over his cheekbones, back into his hair. “Are
you
okay?”

“I think so.” He hated that he couldn’t simply say yes. That he couldn’t be the man she deserved—a man who knew what he was doing and wasn’t already damaged by another. He hated himself for hesitating over something that she wanted as badly as he did.

“May I ask you something?”

His stomach flipped, but he wouldn’t deny her a thing in that moment. “Of course.”

“Do you want to be in charge?”

He blinked, not understanding. “What?”

Shay wiggled until he got the message and moved. She sat up, seemingly unconcerned by her nudity when all he could do was stare at the beauty of her naked body. Even the scars on her chest were lovely—proof of life. “I may have been wrong to assume that you want to be in control here, the one making all of the first moves. Would you prefer if I was less passive?”

A shiver tingled down his spine—not one of fear but a shiver of arousal. Hearing her speak so plainly about their roles only increased her appeal. She had a quiet strength that was often hidden deep down, below layers of grief and anger and guilt. It peeked through every once in a while, and he saw hints of it in her then. She had been holding back for his sake.

That simply wouldn’t do.

“I want you to enjoy this,” Knight said. “You haven’t tied me down. You haven’t bound me with silver. I want to be here with you, Shay. You believe I won’t hurt you if I get spooked.”

“Do you believe it?”

“I believe in you.” He took her hand and kissed her open palm. “I wish I could give you more than that.”

“It’s enough. I know you’ll never forget what happened to you, love, but one day you won’t think of it every time we’re together. It will get better.”

“I know.” Love for the woman in his arms hit him so strongly he wanted to scream it to the sky. Instead he tugged her closer and plundered her mouth, thrilling at the way she reversed the kiss. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, tasting, taking, fingers tight in his hair.

He didn’t notice when she’d pushed him down, only that she was half on top of him and licking her way down his chest. Warm spots cooled as she explored every inch of skin, every plane and angle. Her thick hair fell all around her in a cloud, tickling him as she moved.

The first swipe of her tongue across his nipple echoed in his dick, and he groaned, unable to censor the sound. She glanced up long enough to meet his eyes, smiled, and then did it again.

***

Shay worked his taut nipples the way he’d worked hers, delighting in the noises he made and the way his hips rocked. She’d found an erogenous zone for sure, and she filed the spot away for the future. His body was magnificent and she took her time tasting him, enjoying the uniqueness of him. The masculine flavor of his body, the scent of his sweat and arousal filling her senses to the max. She also paid attention for any signs of distress.

Down she went, dipping her tongue into the planes of his abs, down farther to his navel. He chuffed laughter when she kissed him there. Sensing a ticklish spot, she scraped her fingernails over his lower belly. He laughed and tried to twist away, so Shay had mercy. She’d explore that later. The mental image of Knight on the ground, crying with laughter over being tickled, made her grin.

Definitely exploring that possibility later.

BOOK: White Knight
9.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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