puffy, swollen lips were reconnected. Instinctively, my hands sought his warm, fuzzy head as he began to drag his other head through my saturated folds.
I could feel his self-control begin to falter. Knight drove his hands into my super short platinum-blonde hair (recently bleached and hacked off in yet another fruitless attempt to seduce Lance Hightower) and tugged hard. The force pulled my head back, exposing my neck and causing my body to arch into his unyielding chest.
Knight buried his face into the hollow of my collarbone and hissed, “God, I want you.”
God, I wanted him right back. I might not have wanted to be seen with him in public or admit to anyone that we were together, but in that forgotten little room on the outskirts of town, I could pretend that everyone else and all their opinions simply didn’t exist. And Knight felt safe enough to lay his armor down and be the vulnerable, affectionate—albeit kinky—fuzzy-headed boy that no one else got to see but me. The boy who smelled nice, tasted nice, and made me feel really, really nice. There was no more denying it. I was in that room because I wanted to be.
Once I was practically foaming at the mouth, Knight left me panting to secure both my wrists to Colton’s bedposts, using the handcuffs I’d already forgotten he had. Although my spindly pale legs were free, the weight of my new steel-toed Grinders kept them secured to the foot of the bed almost as well as the steely bracelets around my wrists. The rest of my translucent, skeletal fifteen-year-old figure was now splayed out and on display like the sacrificial virgin that I was. Unsullied, but not for long.
Within the next few minutes, that body would have its childlike innocence ripped away in a torrent of pain and blood and honey. Within a few weeks, it would undergo an onslaught of hormonal changes from the birth control pills I would ask my doctor to prescribe. And within a few months, it would have decorative metal hoops and barbells shoved through each and every erogenous zone.
I was ready to accept whatever Knight had to give me. This boy loved me or claimed to, made a hobby out of giving me convulsion-inducing pleasure, and would probably fight to the death to protect every hair on my head. Sure, he was brooding and angry and antisocial and intimidating and violent, but at that moment, he was also drizzling my throat, breasts, abdomen, and clitoris with honey and feasting upon me, as if I were his last meal. Violent schmiolent. This motherfucker was a lover.
By the time he made his way down to my newly shaved mound (I got self-conscious and shaved it all off after Knight went down on me for the first time), I was practically thrashing against my restraints from the exquisite torture. I wanted nothing more than to grab his ears and hump his face, but the tease persisted, and I was helpless to stop it. Knight licked and sucked the sticky sugar from my sensitive little bud, occasionally retreating to softly blow on it or flick it with the tip of his tongue. He was clearly enjoying himself and probably took even greater pleasure in the fact that I was whittling Colton’s bedposts down to toothpicks with my restraints in response.
Finally taking pity on me, Knight spread my lips apart and inserted his tongue deep into the dripping wet channel between them while rubbing my clit in small circles with his nose. Within seconds I shattered into a mosaic of moans and curse words and spasms and darkness. My arms involuntarily yanked at my shackles as I tried to pull my knees to my chest, doing anything to stop the flood of immaculate sensations threatening to drown me.
While I concentrated on calming the pulsing waves of pleasure between my legs, Knight stealthily slid off his boxers, slipped a condom out of his wallet, and stretched it almost to its breaking point over his very neglected, very angry-looking cock. Once I was physically able to spread my legs again, Knight positioned himself at the opening of my still throbbing orifice and pinned me with a cold stare.
Although he should have had a smug, self-satisfied look on his face from the brutal orgasm he’d just inflicted upon me, Knight looked positively severe, worried even. “Are you ready?”
The trepidation in his eyes told me all I needed to know. My fearless Knight was scared, scared for