Page 117 of Brutal Knight

I don’t wait another second.

With one hand at her back, I lead her through the club. It’s so late that no one really notices. The party is in full swing, everyone far into their drinks and celebration. No one will notice we’re gone—and even if they did, I wouldn’t care. All I care about is getting out of this place and alone with Willow.

When we finally get to the car in the parking lot, a thought crosses my mind. I don’t stop it, don’t fight against the impulse. I’m not one to hold back, and when it comes to her, I don’t want to.

I don’t hold her door open. I turn and lift her, my hands sliding under her thighs. I hear her gasp softly, feel her instinctively tighten her legs against me as I carry her. I set her down on the hood of the car and brush my hands along her legs.

When she’s seated, her eyes widen. The surprise of the moment catches her off guard and I use that to swoop down and kiss her, sudden and heated.

She inhales sharply, responding immediately to my touch. I can feel her rise a little to meet me, her mouth open and sweet against mine. Her arms wind around my shoulders, holding us together as she kisses me hotly.

I reach down as I kiss her, my hand slipping around her thigh and to the inside of her leg. She shivers as I slide my hand under her dress. I push the lace of her panties aside and slide a finger along her slit, feeling how wet she is.

“Oh god! Connor!”

Her gasp is sudden and pleased, her hands clenching on my body. Her response is immediate and sends a thrill through me.

I slip a finger inside her, feeling how tight and wet she is around me. I can’t help but groan.

“You’ll be the death of me,” I mutter, moving to bite at her neck. “You feel so fucking perfect. Squeezing tight around my finger the same way you’ll choke my dick later.”

I can feel her laugh vibrate under my lips. Her breathing is heavy, the tickle of her breath hot on my neck. I can feel how her heart is racing beneath my hand when I brush it over her chest.

The thought of fucking her right here makes my cock pulse, makes me want her even more. The thought of having her writhing on the hood of my car is too perfect. I can’t keep my hands off her. I can’t wait.

“I want to eat your hot little pussy right here,” I say. “I don’t give a fuck if the whole club sees us.”

She doesn’t argue. Her legs tighten around me, her breath hitching.

She never denies me. I know she gets a thrill out of this as much as I do, out of the risk of getting caught. She gets a thrill out of giving in to me.

After all the force she’s lived through, I know she loves giving in to someone who only wants her to feel good. Someone who’s only mission is to make her feel pleasure, blinding and perfect.

I love that she feels safe enough to give in to me. I love that she loves this as much as I do, and I love that she’s drawn to me this way. I love that she enjoys the risk of us doing this here.

When I met her, she told me she couldn’t feel anything. She thought there was no chance, that she was broken, that there was no repairing what had been done to her. She thought she would never feel anything again.

And ever since that moment, I’ve made it my mission in life to make her feel everything.

I pull her to the edge of the car, kissing the inside of her thigh. Her hands twist in my shirt, and it makes my adrenaline spike. We’re both high on each other, both wrapped up in this moment.

I tear away her panties, shredding the fabric with one sharp tug.

She hisses out a breath, half moaning as she says, “Hey, I liked that pair.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred new pairs,” I promise, dragging my tongue over her folds. “Or better yet, I’ll destroy every pair of panties you own so that you’ll be bare and ready for me all the time.”

She laughs and then lets out a soft cry before she stifles it. It sends a thrill through me, another challenge to compete for. I want her so lost in pleasure that she can’t be quiet.

I let my hand wander to her chest, teasing her nipples through her dress. The fabric is so thin that it almost feels like it isn’t there. She shudders beneath me, hands twisting in my hair and clothes.

I can hear the thrum of music and the sound of laughter only yards away, inside the club. I know if someone came out, they’d see us. They’d see her, and they’d know immediately. There’s no way to disguise the way she’s responding to me, the way she’s panting and moaning.

“Louder,” I command roughly. “Let them hear you. Let them know what your husband is doing to you.”

I slide two fingers inside her and she cries out, tight around me. I work her open, plunging slowly in and out. I move slowly at first. I want her on the edge, barely holding on.

The faster I move, the tighter she squeezes me, her breath panting and her legs shaking around me. I can feel her coming closer to the end, everything in her body rising to overwhelming pleasure.

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