Page 62 of Brutal Knight

Is this real? Did we really just do that?

CHAPTER24

Connor

I don’t want to move at all, so I don’t. I just lie draped over Willow, breathing in her sweet scent. She smells fucking amazing, addictive. It’s not just her hair or a perfume, either—it’s her body. Everything about her.

And the taste of her? Fuck. I could spend days with my head between her legs. I could spend days listening to Willow moan, feeling her hands tangle in my hair. I want to commit all of it to memory, keep every second in my mind so I can go back and see the look on her face when the pleasure hits her and her entire body glows.

I roll my hips, grinding against her, and I feel her shudder when I do. She turns me on so fucking much that I’m already getting hard again. There’s an intense temptation to just keep going, but I want to give her time to process, so I finally pull out.

There’s a moment of nothing—no hesitation, no fear, nothing.

Then Willow goes stiff again.

I can tell she’s trying to get some walls back up. It’s almost impressive how quickly she works, especially after the sex we just had.

But I don’t want her to pull away, so I carefully swing an arm around her and pull her into me. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t run from the embrace. I do the only thing I can think of and kiss her hair, hoping it will remind her she’s safe here. Safe with me.

Finally, she relaxes in my arms.

I don’t say anything for a long while. I don’t want to break the spell, don’t want to damage the perfect thing we’ve created. I want it to last.

I know it might not. Night changes things, and I know there’s a real chance that Willow will just run away from me again in the morning.

But for now, I have her right here with me. And I’m not going to waste this moment.

The silence between us isn’t stilted. It’s not uneasy or frightened. And after a few moments, her soft voice cuts through the quiet.

“It shouldn’t have been a surprise when my marriage was arranged,” she says quietly.

Her voice is tentative. I’m surprised she’s talking at all, let alone divulging something so private. Something she protected so much.

I know these are wounds that never really healed, and I know better than to interrupt. I let Willow talk, and I listen.

“My father only ever had me,” she continues. “No son. He always seemed to blame me for that.”

I try to keep my body loose. All I want is to pull her closer. I can imagine Willow as a young girl, imagine how full of hope and dreams she was until her father directed all his anger and discontent at her.

“He wanted someone to pass the family business along to. But he wanted a male heir, so…he never got what he wanted.”

I can’t help the derisive laugh that leaves my lips, short and disgusted. It’s not as if there aren’t powerful women in other families. There are a hundred ways around not having a son, or not having children. Families like ours might stand on tradition, but we don’t live in the dark ages.

If Willow’s father had cared, he would have found a way. But he didn’t care. That much is clear.

Willow exhales slowly, a sigh that seems to come from every inch of her body. I can tell this is like a confessional to her. I wonder if she’s ever told anyone else.

“Instead of his male heir, he used me as a tool. A bargaining chip to get what he wanted.”

I know where this is going. I know what she’s going to say, so I break my silence. “You don’t have to—”

“He let his allies have ‘alone time’ with me,” Willow continues. “As long as they didn’t destroy my ‘value.’”

I knew she’d say it, but it still makes me burn to hear it. It makes me want to drag her father out onto the street and make him pay for the suffering he inflicted.

I hold Willow and think about just how strong she is. She’s incredibly strong to survive everything, to be telling me this. I know it must be terrifying, especially since she barely knows me.

But I hope this means she can see me enough to know I’ll never hurt her.

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