At this, he burst out laughing which made me angrier. Then he shut me up and swept away my temper by kissing me, though that only worked because that led him to doing other things to me.
So now I had a sweet crib, a sweet ride, sweet kit and a sweet day job.
And a sweet life.
And Knight.
Knight just had me.
And I didn’t know how to give him more.
Except this way.
So I’d planned. I texted him when he was already at work and told him Sandrine had called and we were going out. The truth was, I was out for drinks only with both Sandrine and Vivica. No dancing. No men. Just the girls in a back, corner booth, lemon drops (me), martinis (Viv) and cosmos (Sandrine). We’d cabbed it so we were safe.
Knight called four times which I didn’t pick up, and left two texts.
So I didn’t bite off more than I could chew, I texted him back twice too, telling him I couldn’t hear the phone ring over the music but assuring him we were fine and I’d get a taxi.
Then he sent one last text.
Ass. Home. Now.
That was thirty minutes ago. I was pushing it, I knew.
But I was being bad.
And I was hoping that I’d succeeded in not biting off more than I could chew.
I pulled my key from my purse at the door, inserted it in Knight’s lock, turned it and sucked in another calming breath, wishing I’d had one last lemon drop for courage before I pushed it in.
It barely clicked behind me before Knight, wearing dark gray suit pants, shoes and a tailored slim-fit shirt the color of the deepest, darkest raspberry, prowled out of his study.
I stopped dead when the vibrating heat hit me.
“You went out with Sandrine?” he whispered and it was sinister.
I commenced, or I should say continued the game.
I flipped my hand in front of me, starting to take a step and saying airily, “We were fine, honey.”
“Stop… right… there.”
I stopped and focused more on him.
“You went out with Sandrine?” he repeated in his scary whisper.
“Honey, seriously, we were –”
He cut me off. “Without a man on you.”
“Like I said, we were –”
Another interruption as he crossed his arms on his chest. “Did you get my messages?”
“I couldn’t hear them over the music,” I said softly then offered, “I got your texts.”
“So you know I wanted your ass home three hours ago.”
“Knight, we were –”
“Dress off, panties off, leave the shoes,” he growled and my belly dropped.
“What?” I whispered.
“Right there, take your fuckin’ dress off, your panties off and leave your shoes on. Then walk your ass into my study and position on my desk, ass to the door.”
My legs trembled and my womb contracted.
“Knight –” His name trembled too.
“You do not,” he clipped, “wanna make me say it again.”
I held his eyes and he held mine.
I pushed it, for him.
Then his arms started to uncross as his body started to move and I dropped my purse and keys to the floor.
Then, eyes still on his, I lifted my skirt slowly and hooked my fingers into my panties. Then I pushed them down, they fell down my legs, the silk and lace flitting across my already sensitive skin as they dropped to my ankles. I stepped out of them and curled my fingers in the black silk of my dress, biting my lip and pulling it over my head.
When it fell from my fingers to the floor, Knight barked, “Study,” turned and stalked away.
I walked on shaking legs to the study.
Okay, all right.
Okay, all right.
Evidence was suggesting I bit off more than I could chew.
I walked into the warm woods and golden tans of his office, straight to the desk, breathing heavily and hoping I knew what the heck I was doing.
Our safe word was giraffe. In all the time we’d been together, I’d never considered using it. And Knight frequently got inspired. I’d been gagged with a scarf and tied spread-eagled to his bed. I’d gone down on him in his steam room off the bathroom. He’d fucked my face and my pussy while I was strapped on all fours to his bed.
And I’d loved every minute.
This, he was so angry, that vibrating heat unrelenting, I was worried.
Maybe I should have let him in on the fact that Viv was with us. He liked her, trusted her and said she had a good head on her shoulders.
Shakily, I positioned and I did it carefully. Torso to his desk. Ass out. And I made sure my legs were as wide as I could get them comfortably. That was how Knight liked me, always. With training, I’d learned to do that automatically when asked. I didn’t want to forget now.
I heard him come back and I pressed my lips together as I pressed my cheek to some papers on his desk. Then I rolled my lips.
I felt a light breeze and heard a soft whoosh as something hit the desk beside me but I didn’t dare look.
Then nothing.
I waited, deep breathing but failing to calm my escalating panic.
More nothing.
When I was about to say something, tell him Viv was with us, even tell him this was his birthday present, his hand suddenly was between my legs, pulling up rough yet gentle, like Knight could do. I gasped. Then I felt something I didn’t know what it was trailing across my bottom.
“You earned the strap tonight, baby.” I heard him say softly.
Oh God.
Oh God!
Well, at least it wasn’t the cane. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Viv said it hurt like a mother.
The thing on my behind kept stroking as Knight cupped me between my legs and he went on. “This one’s brand new. All for you. Break you in while you break it in,” he muttered.
Then his hand went away and that thing, what I knew was the strap, glided between my legs.
My eyes closed because that felt nice.
“Let’s get you ready,” Knight whispered and my eyes opened.
Then the strap was gone and his hand was between my legs, two fingers thrusting up, tight and hard and I cried out in shock and something else altogether.
“Drenched,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on Daddy’s fingers.”
Oh God. I wanted that.
So I did it.
“Harder, Anya, you gotta be ready to take your strap.”
I moved faster, harder, grinding into his fingers and this went on a while, a scary, crazy, hot while until I was whimpering.
“Stop,” he ordered but continued to thrust into me. “Stay still,” he kept ordering while finger fucking me. “You do not move unless it’s to jump to the strap. You do not, under any circumstances, come. No matter what I do to you, baby. You whisper ‘Daddy’ if you think you’re gonna come. Other than that, you do not speak unless I ask you something directly. Then you answer immediately. And you know how I want your answer, Anya. You get more if I have to remind you. Now do you get me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
His fingers stopped thrusting, they started rubbing hard at my clit, I whimpered and he whispered, “Good, baby.”
Then his hand went away and in short order I knew exactly what Viv was talking about.
This was good. Better than his hand spanking me. It was awesome.
The strap stung, no doubt about it. My ass jumped, I winced. And the sound of the crack against my flesh only made things better. But like when he used his hand, Knight never brought it down in the same place twice in quick or even close succession. And he also slapped it across my thighs.
Every blow, the strap bit in, and the sting radiated out, the pain and sting traveling right between my legs until I was consistently whimpering with need. But as sharp as the sting was, the pain was fleeting and since he didn’t cover the same area repeatedly, it stayed fleeting.
He stopped and hi
s hand thrust between my legs.
“Rub against that, hard, take yourself close,” he ordered and I did what I was told and I did it until I was close and then I moaned, “Daddy.”
He stopped and the strap was back at me. More sting. More fire. My legs were quaking, my ass jumping.
Then his hand between my legs.
“Up Anya, stay facing the desk. Fast, baby.”
I pushed myself up and felt his body close behind me.
“You aren’t done and you do not come until I give it to you. Yeah?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I breathed.
Then he was moving and I felt his hands working at the front and behind me then I felt something smooth curling around me between my legs from ass to belly, tight. Then it was rubbing back and forth, gentle, quick, the friction, it worked me, separating me until it was right there and my head fell back as I moaned.
Knight’s lips came to my ear. “You like your strap?”
Oh yeah. I liked my strap. Fuck yeah.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Take the ends, back and front, rub yourself. Do not come. Stop if you think you will.”
I nodded and found the ends of the strap, back and front.
“Hold them tight, baby,” Knight ordered, I obeyed and he pressed his back to mine as his hands moved on me.
Oh God. This was good. This was unbelievably good.
I worked the strap as Knight’s hands moved on me, all over me and his mouth worked my neck.
Then I took myself close, mouth panting, and I stopped.
“My baby, bein’ good,” Knight murmured against my neck. “Give it time, come down and then keep going.”
I gave it time, his hands moved over me then I kept going.
“That’s it, bring yourself close again,” he whispered, his hands moving up then they were cupping my breasts. “Look at you. Fuck me, my baby, so fuckin’ sweet.”
Then his fingers were at my nipples, pinching, squeezing, rolling, pulling.
I stopped moving the strap.
“Keep rubbing,” he growled on a sharp tug of my nipples.
“Daddy,” I used the word as a warning. I was close.
He tugged again at my nipples and it shot through me, my head jerking back, hitting his shoulder.
“Do not come, Anya, and keep working yourself.”
Oh God. I couldn’t do this. I was going to come.
But I did what I was told.
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned into my neck, grinding his crotch into my back.
“Daddy,” I whimpered.
He squeezed my nipples.
“Do not come, baby.”
“Daddy,” I moaned, still rubbing.
“Do not… come.”
I did as I was told and I was pressing my head in his shoulder, biting my lip, keening when he growled. “Drop it.”
I dropped the strap instantly.
Then I was back to the desk, Knight hands behind my knees shoving them high and wide. Then one went to his fly. Then it was back behind my knee and he was driving into me, brutal, savage, my eyes on him fucking me, his burning on my body jolting on his desk.
Stroke three, I came.
Then I came.
And I came.
And I came.
And then I lost track of how many times I came.
Then with one last, violent thrust, Knight came.
Eyes still on me, hands still behind my knees, he went from thrusting to sliding.
Then he plunged deep and whispered, “Come here, baby.”
I pushed up, his hands went to my ass, my legs wrapped around his hips and he lifted me up. My arms wrapped around his shoulders and he walked me across the room to his couch and then took us down, me on my back, Knight on top and he managed to do this entire maneuver connected to me.
He lifted some of his weight off me with a forearm in the couch and his other hand came to my face, his fingertips skimming my jaw, my cheek, his eyes on me and he asked gently, “You okay?”
“Happy birthday,” I whispered and he blinked.
Then he whispered, “What?”
“Kathleen told me,” I shared. “I wasn’t at a club. I was with Sandrine but I was with Vivica too. We were at a bar. Back booth. No one could even see us. No dancing. Nothing. Just us girls. We took a taxi so no one driving drunk. And Rhashan was in on the surprise, kinda, without a real share, he just knows it’s a surprise birthday gig for you and he knew where we were the whole time.”
He stared at me and he did this a long time, giving nothing away.
So I went on softly and now uncertainly, “I didn’t know what to get you.”
“Jesus, fuck,” he finally muttered.
“Knight?”
“Jesus, fuck,” he repeated.
“Did I… was that okay?”
He buried his face in my neck and groaned, “Jesus, fuck. Fuck me. Fuck me.”
I didn’t know what to make of this.
“Knight?” I called.
His head came up.
“Yes,” he clipped. “Yes, Anya, baby, fuck me, baby. Yes, that was fuckin’ okay. That was fuckin’ beautiful what you gave me.”
It was. He believed that. What I gave him meant something to him.
It meant a lot.
Tears filled my eyes.
“Knight,” I whispered.
“Fuck me,” he whispered back, staring at me, his eyes burning because his heart was beating there.
God.
Beautiful.
I smiled, lifted my head and, lips to his, I whispered, “I’m kinda not done.”
“Fuck me,” he repeated and I smiled bigger.
“But you’ll need to get off me.”
I watched his eyes close slowly and then I watched as emotion washed over his features.
And I did this mesmerized.
God.
Beautiful.
Then he touched his mouth to mine, slid out and got off me, pulling me up with him. He held me close with an arm around my waist as I got steady on my feet.
Then when I shot him a grin, he muttered, “Nightie, babe, desk.”
So that was the soft whoosh.
My man, even pissed, he always remembered to take care of me.
My grin got bigger.
Then I went to the desk and pulled the red, silk and lace short nightie with the high slits up my sides that Knight bought for me over my head. I shot him another grin as I walked out to see he was still standing at the couch, he’d adjusted his trousers and his eyes were on me.
The minute I knew he lost sight of me, I moved fast.
I had it all planned and I put it in motion quickly. I cleaned up and took my shoes off. Then I grabbed the bag of wrapped presents. Then I went to where I’d hidden the store bought, fancy decorated cake with the candles and lighter. I shoved the candles in and lit them. Then balancing the cake in both hands with the bag of presents dangling, I went back to his study.
Knight was sitting, ass to the desk where I’d spent a memorable amount of time, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes to his crossed feet, hands at his sides, fingers curled around the desk’s edge but his head came up when I walked in carrying the cake.
His eyes went to the cake then to me and instantly his face got soft and his eyes warm but surprised and definitely pleased.
Totally beautiful.
“Jesus, baby,” he whispered as I walked to him.
I stopped in front of him.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
His eyes stayed locked to mine.
“Anya.”
I waited. He said no more.
“Make a wish and blow out your candles, honey,” I whispered.
His body didn’t move and neither did his eyes.
“Make a wish, Knight.”
His eyes then moved, roaming my face, down my body, the cake, more of me then back to my eyes.
“Honey, the candles are gonna burn out,” I prompted on a grin.
“Let ‘em,” he replied. “Got nothin’ I want. Everything I want is standing right in front of me.”
Oh.
My.
God.
My nose stung and my eyes filled with tears.
“Please,” I begged softly, “blow out the candles, Knight.”
He held my eyes. One tear slid out my left, followed by another on my right.
Then he bent forward and blew out the candles.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He grabbed the cake and plopped it on his desk. Then he pulled the bag out of my hand and tossed it on one of the two chairs angled at the front of it. Then he yanked me between his legs, in his arms, doing it roughly, holding me tight, one arm around my waist, one hand in my hair, his mouth crushed down on mine and he plundered it.
I melted into him, my arms snaking around him and I let him.
He let my lips go, my head moved back an inch and his hand slid around to cup my jaw, his thumb moving through the wet left by the tear.
“Don’t cry for me, Anya, don’t ever cry for me,” he murmured.
“Is that an order?” I teased and his eyes went from his thumb to mine.
“Yes.”
My arms slid from around him so my hands could curl around his neck and I pressed up so I could touch my forehead to his.
“Lemon drops,” he murmured and I smiled.
He remembered.
God, I loved this man.
“Praise God for faulty, cheap cell phones,” I muttered. Knight’s body gave a short jerk then both his arms closed around me hard as he burst out laughing.
* * * * *
“So which present do you like best?”
I was fishing for information, lying in bed in my red nightie next to and mostly on Knight, up on a forearm in his chest, smiling into his face.
“Uh… seriously? You askin’ that shit?”
“Scary, crazy, hot punishment and resulting scary, crazy, hot, hard fucking not included,” I amended my question and Knight’s arm curled around my waist got tight as he chuckled.
Then he answered, “The Black Sabbath tee.”
I tipped my head to the side and asked, “Not the biography on Beethoven?”