The British Knight

“Alexander,” she whispered in my ear as I pushed back in, deeper this time, and it was so deep, so very, very tight. I’d thought about this so much, imagined it, wanted it and it was even better, even more than I thought it would be.

I wanted her to say that she’d been waiting for this moment, had fantasized about me fucking her against my office wall. I wanted to understand this longing I’d felt these last few days wasn’t one-sided. I needed her surrender. Her fingers tightened in my hair as her body relaxed in my arms. She’d given up, given her control to me—her fight had been replaced with her need for me. It was a victory.

As I began to thrust in and out of her, she clawed at my chest, undoing my buttons, almost desperate for me. Christ, I wanted her naked. I’d like to make her come with just my mouth on her nipples. She was so fucking responsive, I knew I’d have her writhing and begging for release within seconds. If I had longer, I’d spend hours enjoying her body, my tongue finding every sweet spot and I was sure there would be plenty. The grip of her perfect pussy was just the tip of the iceberg, I was sure of it.

“You walk around this wet? Ready to be fucked at all times?” I asked, grunting out each word. “Or is it just for me?”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please God, don’t stop.”

No way—I didn’t think I ever could. I wanted to stay here, fucking her forever, experiencing this delicious slide as I plowed into her, this feeling that if I went deep enough, it would be all I’d ever need.

Her breathing became choppy, her fingernails dug deep into my shoulders and her whole body tensed as she bucked against me, her mouth open, her eyes screwed shut, I nearly lost my grip on her as she began to pulse around me, coming silently on my cock. Fuck, I wanted to hear her scream. Annoyed that the environment dictated how we fucked, I continued to pump into her, watching as she floated back to consciousness with a smile, then dipped her head and pressed a kiss to my jaw. It was so sweet and sexy and caring it nearly broke my rhythm.

I wasn’t done with her yet. I wanted her to understand what I was capable of doing to her. This wasn’t just a fuck. I wasn’t just some guy she worked with. I had the urge to be indelibly etched onto her brain—to have the impact on her that she had on me. And as far as Violet King was concerned, in this moment, I was done fighting urges. I was giving into them all.

She gasped, and I could tell by the way she tightened around my cock that I was going to be able to hold out long enough to make her come again. I twisted my hips and her eyes met mine in panic.

“No, not again,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yes.”

“Alexander, I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

Her hands fisted against my shoulders but her body relaxed. She was giving herself to me—giving her next climax to me—and there was nothing sexier. I dipped my head to kiss her, wanting every inch of connection that she could give.

She knew now that I wasn’t just some casual guy who didn’t see how truly beautiful she was, didn’t comprehend how smart she was. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to get away with faking her orgasms like she normally did. No. I’d make her come not once but twice. I’d make her see how good it could be.

I thrust harder, grinding my cock into her until she arched her back and threw her head forward, her mouth against mine, open, desperate, and intimate. I was going to come if we stayed like this and I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Sharply, before it was too late, I pulled out and I released her legs, bracing myself against the wall to catch my breath.

He hands skimmed my torso. “You’ve not—”

I liked that she wasn’t done either. “Nearly,” I whispered. “You just feel so fucking great.” I took a step back. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.” I could barely get my words out, I was so hard but without a question, she turned and did as I’d asked.

Perfect.

She might have a smart mouth in the office but she clearly knew how to do as she was told when it came to sex.

After surveying her for a few seconds, taking in the beautiful lines her body made, I stepped forward, and placed my hand between her thighs. “Open.”

Her legs spread, she sighed and stuck out her arse, tempting me like the little witch she was.

I stepped closer to her, and dipped my head. “I know you like to get fucked, Violet but it’s not normally like this, is it? Not usually this good. This is as good as it gets. And you’re so desperate for me to make you come again.”

Her fingernails scratched the wall as she fisted her hands. “Just as desperate as you,” she replied.

I chuckled. She had some fucking nerve. I’d show her who was desperate. I nudged my thumb to her entrance, pressing and flicking my fingers across her clit.

She snapped her head around and looked at me desperately. “Please,” she said, her words coated in her need.

She pulsed beneath my hand and I found myself relaxing, knowing that she was as tightly wound as I was.

Pressing her lips together, she tried to stifle her own sounds. Her body jerked and she looked at me as if she were pleading for mercy as my fingers worked her into a frenzy. I wasn’t about to stop. She’d asked for this. She needed to be careful what she wished for.

Her engorged clit throbbed under my fingers as she began to whimper and her wetness seeped over my hand. God, I wanted to lick her, suck her, taste her, and for a moment I almost sank to my knees and did just that. I stopped myself as her groans became more pronounced.

I needed to be inside her. I wanted to feel her tighten around my cock as she climaxed.

I rammed in and nearly blacked out at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through my body. I couldn’t stop now. I knew she was close and I was chasing her, trying to get to the finish line at the same time as I fucked and fucked. Her pussy clenched around me and I pushed in one final time, coming as if it were my first time, my body stiff, desperate to prolong our connection as long as I could.

I was sure our heavy breathing could be heard echoing through chambers, but I was too sated to care. She was the fuck of the year. Of the fucking decade.

“See? I told you you’d be coming so hard you’d see stars,” I said as I released her legs and slid off the condom.

“Get over yourself. There were no stars,” she said, still panting as she straightened out her skirt.

I chuckled. Her flushed cheeks and ripped underwear told a different story. “Is that right?” I raised my eyebrows.

She shrugged, but for once didn’t argue.

I’d seen fucking stars for Christ’s sake. It was great. It had been more than great. And I could tell by the softness in her eyes and the way she was still unsteady on her feet that she felt it too. But I liked the fact that she wasn’t swooning and telling me how great I was—it wasn’t what I was used to but I respected her for it. Liked her better because of it.

Maybe now she’d stop invading my thoughts and distracting me from what was important but as I stood captivated by her neck as she smoothed out her glossy black hair, focused on her legs as she slipped her high heels back on, something told me it wasn’t going to be that easy.





Eleven