Page 62 of Brutal Knight

My mind raced, trying to remember what he'd asked, but it was difficult to remember with the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

He leaned forward, his lips kissing my forehead. “Why aren’t you sleeping, little polva?”

“Because, I—” I said, suddenly realizing that I’d already been thinking about how I could score more heroin. It was easy in this city. I inhaled sharply, hollowed out at the thought.

“You wanted more heroin,” he finished for me, as we walked back towards the guest room, passing more beautiful artwork.

“No.”

He gave me a sympathetic smile, which only pissed me off.

“I don’t need you to save me, Knight.”

“I know that.”

“Then put me down,” I began to struggle against him.

“That’s not happening, little polva.” We got to the guest room and I grabbed the doorway, stopping us.

“Stop calling me that.”

“If you only knew what it meant, you would crawl on hands and knees to beg me to call you that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I will never crawl on my hands and knees for you.”

“That’s a promise I’ll make you break,” he said, his gaze heated. He tenderly unhooked my fingers and I let him. Staring into his eyes, he threw me onto the soft bed, then crawled over me.

My body tingled with pleasure from his body over mine, the soft mattress under me. I was pressed up against the leather headboard, the large image of another underwater woman, her eyes a stark blue, looking down at me.

I suddenly realized something about all the paintings of women in Knight’s home. Theyallhad black hair and blue eyes.

That couldn’t…

That couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

Silence permeated the air and, once again, my gaze was drawn to his lips. Lips that I’d been obsessed with as a kid, lips that were soft and sweet and demanding all at once. Lips that I wanted to nibble and taste.

“Not thinking about running, are you Tati?” His hands went to my wrists, moving them up over my head.

“Yes,” I admitted the truth. I was beginning to have feelings, to open myself up to him again. I needed to run as far and as fast from him as possible. I put my hand on his hips, cinching my fingers into them tight. “Are you going to let me go?”

“That depends.”

I suddenly realized that he was pulling my wrists into soft, leather bracelets. The bastard was tying me up.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, yanking him to me, and his cock hardened against my stomach. “On what?”

“On whether you’re going to take suboxone or methadone.”

He was talking about the drugs that would transition my withdrawal over time.

“No.” I lifted my chin stubbornly. “I’m not taking months to get off this drug. I’m stronger than that.”

“That’s what I thought.” He released my wrists, already bound, and wrapped a hand into the back of my hair, fisting it. He tugged until I was looking upwards, exposing my neck to him. His teeth scraped the delicate skin there, and a sudden flush of warmth spread from my cunt, outward. I hitched a breath as his lips moved downward. His fingers still clasping my hair tight, pulling it taught. God it was so hot. “My answer is no. I’m not letting you go.”

I whimpered with need, when there was a sudden noise at the doorway, a clearing of a throat. It was Phee, the nurse, looking at us like she was ready to go into war. “I’m ready, sir.”

“How many times do I need to tell you, Tatiana? You cannot escape me.” Knight bit my ear, whispering, “You’re not doing this without me. We’ll go to hell and back, together.”

---