Page 25 of Dark Knight (Knight's Ridge Empire 10)

My chest swells, hearing it fall from her lips. My hatred of my real name dissipates with every cry, every plea for more.

I work her until she’s spent, her skin flushed, her chest heaving as she fights to catch her breath on top of my solid walnut table.

I can’t deny that I’ve had fantasies of this. Calli has been the feature of many, many different ones over the years, and images of laying her out on any surface of this flat have been right up there since I moved in. I knew in reality that she’d probably never even have a reason to visit.

I never could have ever imagined that I’d get this chance.

Ever.

“Oh God,” she whimpers when I finally release her and stand up.

Her eyes find mine and I discover a depth, a fire in them that I never knew existed.

Although I’ve lusted after her for as long as I can remember, I’ve always had her up on this pedestal, much like everyone else. She’s this innocent princess that none of us dared go anywhere near.

But right now, all of that is gone. The only thing that’s staring back at me is desire and need, both laced with hate, fire, and passion.

It. Is. Fucking. Everything.

Before I get a chance to move, she pushes from the table and practically climbs me like a fucking tree. Not that I’m complaining.

Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms wrap around my shoulders, and her fingers twist in my hair, gripping it hard.

“Calli,” I groan, my own arms holding her just as tight as I lift her from the table before her lips find mine and she kisses me, not faltering when she must taste herself on me.

Her kiss is raw, dirty, and messy. Everything I could have asked for.

The heat of her cunt burns me through my trousers, and my need to back her against a wall just to fuck her hard and fast to take the edge off burns through me.

But I can’t.

She’s not the kind of woman I can lose myself in and just send away before she gets any ideas about a second round or a future.

Up until that night in the derelict building, sex has been nothing but an act. A stress reliever. It’s never been anything to really enjoy, to lose myself in, to treasure.

But the second I touched her, everything I’d known before had been forever ruined.

I’d never be able to be with a woman again and be satisfied with the nameless fucking in whatever dark corner I could find for a few minutes.

Everything would always be compared to her and that night—and nothing would ever be good enough.

Fucking magical voodoo pussy, and I haven’t even fully experienced it yet.

“Jesus, Cal,” I mutter as she drags her teeth across my jaw, her tongue lapping at the rough stubble covering it.

Her lips descend my neck, and a violent shudder rips through my body as I walk us into my bedroom.

“Fuck,” I bark when her teeth sink into my skin. “You just bit me,” I gasp, looking down at her, wondering who the hell I’ve got in my arms.

When she finally releases my skin, she’s got a little bit of my blood on her lips and a feral, dark look in her eyes that I’m more than familiar with.

Who the hell is the girl who’s been hiding under the twinsets and pearls all these years?

“Y-y-y—” I stutter, struggling to find my words and cursing myself for falling back into old habits.

Her warm palm lands on my cheek and she holds my eyes, silently telling me to take a breath.

“Y-you’re fucking perfect.”