Page 5 of Knockout Queen

He steps closer, and his cock nudges the apex of my thighs. I swallow, heat enveloping me like a rabid wildfire.

He takes my hands in one of his and then brings his other down to brush his fingers beneath my eye, hovering just over the painful parts. “I put these marks on you.” He shakes his head. “It’s unforgivable.”

“These marks…” I tell him, voice raspy. “They’re just skin-deep. They don’t change anything between us. Nothing will change what’s between us, Brawler. Nothing.”

He groans, succumbing to his tightly wound urges. He moves forward, dropping his head so he can suck on my neck while he lifts his hips into me.

I spread my legs, welcoming his touch. “We can prove it to each other.”

Brawler pushes his joggers down, freeing his cock. He aligns the head with my opening, and I suck in a breath at feeling him so close. I meet him at the same time he presses forward, angling my hips toward him. We both make mutual sounds of satisfaction when he pushes inside. For a moment, we stay that way, taking deep breaths and enjoying the feeling of being together.

“I’ll never hurt you again,” Brawler promises. He starts to move, grinding his pelvis against mine. “You’re my everything.” He punctuates each word with a thrust of his hips.

He won’t listen, so I need to show him how I’ve already forgotten what happened. I wiggle out of his grip and sink my fingers into his ass. “I need more,” I tell him, already heady with sex. Brawler broke through the barriers I put up when I first came to the Heights. He put a sledgehammer through the concrete blocks despite the danger he was putting himself in with Johnny and the Crew. I owe him everything.

I start to climb his body, and he easily lifts me to wrap my legs around his bare, muscular ass. Pinning me against the wall, he thrusts inside me over and over, each movement of his hips teasing my clit.

My moans spur his movements, and he stays there, working my body over until it tightens. Deep spasms rock me, and I ride out an amazing orgasm that curls my toes.

“Beautiful...” He cups my ass and turns. His steady footsteps take us to the bed, and he holds me to his chest until I’m safely pinned between him and the mattress.

Despite the shitty day we’ve had, the fact that my energy is spent, and my lungs still burn a little, I want nothing more than for Brawler to forget about the stupid bruising on my face or the fact that we fought in a ring for other people’s pleasure. We’re so much more than that. We can’t let one event define us. “Can I ride you?”

He flips us in an instant, gripping my hips to steady me. I find purchase with my palms on his killer chest to slide up and down his cock. With each stroke, I’m telling him what happened doesn’t matter. I’m telling him the bruising is temporary, but what’s permanent is our feelings for each other. When his exterior cracks, my pleasure heightens. I grind down over him until an orgasm hits me so hard I cry out, doubling over him, hands fisting the sheets on the bed.

“Fuck, Kyla,” he groans, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking it, spurring on another round of spasms over his cock. He jerks inside me, and then sits up, holding me on his lap as he works his hips up and pulls me down at the same time. He watches how we come together, his hips thrusting upward in this sexual dance between the two of us. “Come again. For me?” He slips his hand between us, rubbing my nub. It’s too much. I bring the whole house down with my scream as my climax basically attacks me.

Brawler tries to ride it out, a fierce expression of determination on his face, but he can’t. He gives in, jerking inside me as he unloads his hot cum with a possessive roar. It’s almost unlike him, but I understand that need to be a part of something, especially when you think something is threatening to take it away.

I wrap my arms around him as the last of his tremors subside. He pulls me down, our legs tangled as we kiss, sealing the moment with a soft embrace of lips.

“You understand now, right?” I ask.

“What I understand is that your capacity to love, Kyla, is undeniable.” He brings his fingers up to trace under my eyes again. It stings, but I don’t pull back. There’s no sense in making him feel worse than he already does. “You’re still beautiful,” he says. “Even when you’re sad about Johnny. Even when I put these terrible bruises on your face.”

I press my palm against the white angel wing covering his neck. It’s always had a look of devastation to me. Beautiful yet sorrowful at the same time.

I’m all for the sad angel. Sometimes, grief can be the best motivator.

“We’ll find him,” Brawler promises, sensing the change in my thoughts. He pulls me to him and presses a kiss to my lips that’s more of a valiant pledge than anything else.

Whoever took Johnny Rocket better watch the fuck out.

3

Brawler and I walk out of the master bedroom hand-in-hand. Oscar meets us at the top of the stairs, hair slicked back and dark eyes like shadows in the night. He catches my hand before I walk downstairs, gaze focusing on my face. He takes a deep breath while scrutinizing the area around my eyes. Eventually, he just squeezes my hand and lets us go downstairs.

I move ahead of them now that I’m on a mission. When I hit the bottom, I turn to find Oscar clapping Brawler on the back in a reassuring gesture. Brawler’s heart is on his sleeve. He’s obviously affected by the bruising on my face, and I get it. I totally do. There are some marks on his face that aren’t sitting well in my gut either, but at least I can tell myself that maybe Jiko did those.

I gasp. Shit. “Jiko...”

Brawler shrugs. “I didn’t see what happened to him.”

“Me either,” Oscar sneers.

Everything happened in an instant, so I didn’t get time to think too much into it, but Jiko fought Brawler. Why?

I sneak a glance at Brawler, but he’s already shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck.

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