Knight
Page 56

 Kristen Ashley

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I licked my lips as I quivered again, this time stronger, and I opened my legs.
“Wider, baby.”
Oh God.
Another quiver.
I spread wider.
His hand slid down to my behind and his fingers dug in.
His voice was firm when he ordered, “Anya, wider.”
I went as far as I could, my left leg having to push through his heavy ones and he hooked one around.
“That’s it,” he said softly, his hand now stroking my bottom then it was just his fingertips trailing light along the skin of my ass and the small of my back.
He pulled back and settled in with an elbow in the pillow, head in his hand, eyes and fingertips on me.
Then he asked conversationally, “Tell me, you get through to your girl?”
I didn’t expect this, to be tied to the bed, naked, spread open and then have a chat.
God, weird.
And hot.
“She felt like shit but she totally freaked when I laid it out. She expected that from Viv. Not from me. It freaked Viv out too but Viv rolled with me and we tag teamed her.”
His fingers kept at me, lazy.
“You think she took it in?”
“I don’t know,” I answered quietly. “There was a lot of crying and excuses. She was embarrassed. We went over the Nick situation. I told her what you told me about the guy being into her and her losing her chance at that. She was upset at that news and Vivica was pretty harsh. So I hope so.”
“Good,” he muttered, his eyes wandered to my behind as his fingers kept drifting.
I stayed still. Knight watched his hand move. This lasted a long time. Long enough for it to go from hot and sweet to hot and torture.
Then Knight whispered, “Love my baby’s ass.”
I loved it that he loved my ass.
His eyes came back to mine.
“And she gave me Sundays.”
I smiled up at him, it was lazy and my eyes were hooded because I was getting way turned on but I did it.
“What should I give her back?” he asked.
Another quiver.
I had a thousand ideas but I bet he had more and his were better.
I didn’t say that.
Instead I pointed out, “You’ve already been super generous to me, Knight. I just moved some clients. It’s not a big deal.”
His head tipped into his hand. “It is to me.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “But I also owe you for stepping up for Sandrine.”
One side of his mouth went up and he agreed, “Yeah, you do.”
I grinned back but I used my whole mouth.
Suddenly, he leaned into me, his face to mine, his fingers slipped in a barely there touch between my legs and my h*ps jumped.
“So what’re you gonna give me?” he asked.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
“To know what you’ll give me.”
“Whatever you want,” I replied immediately and his fingers came back up in a barely there touch. Then they did it again, there but not there. I could feel the hint, the promise but they weren’t really touching.
I squirmed.
“Whatever I want?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Whatever I want,” he murmured as if turning this concept over in his mind.
“Yes,” I repeated on a breath and squirmed again as his fingers kept giving without giving.
“Still, baby,” he warned and it took effort but I stilled.
His fingers moved giving everything and nothing.
I closed my eyes.
His hand went away.
“You know I don’t like your eyes closed, Anya.”
I opened them.
His hand came back.
“You wanna know what I want?” he asked.
“Yes,” I panted.
“I wanna know how long you can take this before you lose control.”
Oh God.
“About two more seconds,” I whispered.
“That would be disappointing,” he replied.
God!
“You gonna try to hold on?”
“Yes,” I breathed as his fingers kept at it.
“Good girl, holding on for Daddy.”
God, just those words nearly made me lose control.
He watched my face, held my eyes as his fingers played. I held on. He kept doing it. I kept holding on.
I was holding tight with both hands to the end of the scarf tied around my wrists and panting, my legs and bottom tight and quivering and he whispered, “Fuck me, magnificent. How much more can you take, baby?”
“Keep giving it to me and we’ll see,” I gasped.
“Fuck, magnificent,” he growled.
Then he kept giving it to me without giving it to me.
Finally, to keep control, my head went back an inch and my teeth sunk into my lip.
“Okay, Anya, you’re done,” he decided, his finger grazed my clit, my neck arched, my h*ps bucked and I came instantly.
When I was coming down, his fingers were slipping through and his lips were at my ear.
“Saturated,” he growled. “Roll to your back, you know how I like it. Offer that pu**y to me. Daddy’s gonna lick you clean.”
He pulled away and I didn’t hesitate. I rolled to my back, lifted my knees high and spread my legs wide.
Then my Daddy licked me clean and made me come again doing it.
Then he f**ked me hard and he made me come doing that too.
Then he didn’t untie me after he turned out the lights and settled tight to my side. He made me fall asleep with his hand cupping me, two fingers inside.
I slept like a baby.
Not a single dream.
Chapter Twelve
Mr. Sebring
I wandered down the hall in my platinum high-heeled sandals, wearing my kickass, platinum satin dress that clung to all the right parts of me. It was super short, had some intriguing drapes and was held up at my shoulders by slim, oval metal links. My clutch was tucked under my arm and my neck was bent, head twisted, forearms raised because I was still putting in my earring.
I heard Knight on the phone and I knew he was somewhere in the kitchen-living room area.
It was Friday, three weeks from Sandrine Scene, the Sequel.
The good news was, as of Wednesday, I was officially a certified skin technician. Classes were done and three of my nights were free. The other good news was, Knight’s employee, Kathleen, booked a weekly manicure on Monday nights. Weekly! Sixty extra dollars a month and that didn’t include tip. Crazy cool. Further good news was, Sandrine was laying low and licking her wounds that she messed it all up and strange, somewhat loser-ish rich guy who was still into her slipped through her fingers. She hadn’t been out since which meant she might have learned her lesson (hopefully). More good news was that it was the end of April, the weather was warming up and summer, my favorite season, was around the corner.