Wuthering Frights (Dulcie O'Neil)

  I heard Knight turn up the volume as the words of the song sunk into me: And she doesn't like the view, she doesn't like the view but he sinks himself deep ...

  "Tell me one thing," Knight started, suddenly turning to face me, his voice almost lost in the song. I looked up at him expectantly, hoping the tears were no longer visible on my cheeks. "When Bram's inside you, is it my face you imagine?"

  "You son of a bitch," I spat out at him, shaking my head, and forcing my gaze away from his. I slammed my eyes shut, not wanting to lose control of my tears. I would not cry in front of him!

  I'd just never seen this side of Knight before—an icy cold, calculating side. And I wanted to hate him for believing I was ever capable of something so horrendous and awful. I wanted to hate him for not being able to see clearly, for obstructing his own vision. But there was something within me that refused to allow me to hate him, something that wouldn't permit me to throw in the towel.

  I would make him see the truth. I would make him realize the picture he was trying to paint of me was entirely wrong.

  And I would make him eat his words.

  Eighteen

  Knight suddenly pulled the Denali over to the side of the road and I had to balance myself against my seat to keep the side of my head from hitting the window. The uneven ground caused my teeth to chatter in my head, and when he hit the brakes to keep us from plowing into an enormous oak tree, I was grateful he'd seat-belted me in.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I asked with a confused frown.

  He didn't respond, but put the Denali in park, not even bothering to look at me. Instead, he threw his door open, leaving the engine on and jumped down to the ground. The SUV beeped angrily at him, warning him the door was open. I couldn't say I was really paying much attention to the incessant beeping though. Instead, I watched as Knight jogged around the front of the Denali. The headlights illuminated his incredibly broad build and the ample swell of his biceps. I was suddenly overcome with fear, remembering the time when Knight and I first met and I tried to fight him. I lost because fairy magic was useless against Lokis. Taking in his impressive physique now, I found myself hoping I wouldn't have to go up against him again.

  He yanked my door open and released my seat belt, refusing to so much as look at me. Instead, his lips were a tight line as he grabbed me by my waist and lifted me down. I shivered in the cold night air and worried for a minute that he was going to leave me out here. I glanced around to figure out just where "here" was. I couldn't say I'd been keeping track of where we'd been going because my mind was so consumed by our most recent conversation. As I looked around myself now, I realized we were in the middle of nowhere with rolling fields of untouched land on either side of us, brightened by the beams of the full moon. A few gnarled oak trees dotted the horizon, the lights of the nearest city far in the distance. The only sound to interrupt the otherwise still air was the chirping of the crickets.

  All alone with an enraged Loki, a creature created by Hades, the god of the Netherworld, and in his own image, Knight was a soldier by all accounts and well trained in the art of combat, committed to destroy and win. Nearly two feet taller than I, and much larger in both breadth and brawn, (well, triple my size where the girth of his chest was concerned), my magic was utterly useless against him. In essence, I was about as threatening as a little butterfly. I felt myself instinctively avoiding him, trying to seek shelter in the warmth and the light of the Denali. Knight gripped me by my upper arms and jerked me forward, slamming the door behind me. I jumped at the loud sound and felt my heartbeat racing through me, every fiber of my being on high awareness.

  "Why are we stopping here?" I asked, my voice teetering with my own anxiety. I was tense and I couldn't hide it. Knight's eyes narrowed and bored into mine with heated fury.

  "Why? Are you scared, Dulcie?" he asked. Suddenly, his mask of anger lifted and he smiled, but it was a smile that said he was enjoying every ounce of my disquietude.

  I gulped down my trepidation, but refused to respond.

  "Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" he persisted, leaning into me until less than two inches separated us. I forced myself not to break his eye contact, straining to hold my own ground. "Kind of like the way you hurt me?" he continued and then shook his head, forcing his face up close and personal with mine. Now no space existed between us and I could feel the kiss of his breath against my mouth. "No, kind of like the way you devastated me?"

  He pulled back as I shook my head and opened my mouth, about to deny everything again, while begging him to believe me, to allow me to prove my innocence. Apparently disconcerted at where the conversation was headed, he gripped my cheeks between his large fingers, forcing my mouth into a fish kiss expression. He released my cheeks, his hand then finding purchase around my neck as he pressed me against the Denali, forcing the back of my head against the glass.

  "Please don't hurt me," I whispered, honestly frightened by his wild expression.

  He just stared at me for a second or two. His eyes began to glow, that same glow that said I was his and always would be. In that moment, I realized that Knight was as much in love with me now as he always had been.

  "Knight," I said softly, my heart breaking for both of us. If he would just listen to me, just put aside his anger and injured pride, maybe we could get somewhere. "Please just let me explain. I can make you understand how wrong you are about everything."

  "No," he said and slammed his hand against the door beside my head, dropping his face so I couldn't see the glow of his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, trying to compel the radiance of his gaze to subside, trying to force himself to believe that I wasn't the woman he thought I was.

  When he looked up at me again, the glow disappeared from his eyes. He shifted my hair, half of which had fallen into my face, behind my neck, his fingertips brushing against my skin. I couldn't help remembering how those same fingers once touched me so tenderly, exploring my body in the most loving and gentle manner. I knew my eyes were wide with fright, my body still on high alert, but he just stared at me, appearing hesitant in whatever he was planning to do to me. He rested his hand against my collarbone as he honed in on my neck, his eyes narrowing. I glanced down and saw the line of golden blood that trailed from the gash at the bottom of my neck, the blood disappearing into my cleavage. Apparently Baron had sliced my skin when he threatened me with my dagger. The bastard.

  Knight shook his head and took a deep breath as he reached forward and ran the pad of his thumb over the cut, healing it instantly. It was one of his many Loki abilities. "Fuck me for still caring," he whispered and sighed as his eyes found mine.

  Before I could respond, he gripped the back of my neck, wrenching me forward. A single breath later and his mouth was on mine as he snagged a fistful of my hair at the nape of my neck almost painfully. His kiss was hard and impulsive, his tongue plunging into my mouth as he pushed his body against mine. It was as if he were trying to devour me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, regardless if I wanted it or not. And although I loved his kiss, and loved him, this wasn't how I wanted him. Not with all this unresolved anger and baggage between us.

  I tried to pull my head back to break the seal of our lips, but his fist at the nape of my neck held me firmly in place. Trying to extricate my body from his, I felt the cold steel of the Denali against my naked back as I turned my head to the side. He pulled away from me and I faced him, glaring at him all the while. "I want you to stop," I said in a small voice, my eyes begging him to keep away from me.

  "Why, Dulcie? Would it upset Bram?" he asked in a lascivious tone, his eyes dancing with ire. "Have you sworn loyalty to him, just like you did to me?" Then he shook his head and chuckled. "The poor, stupid son of a bitch."

  I felt something inside me break at the thought that he actually believed there was something between Bram and me. "You know that's a lie."

  He shook his head, but said nothing, his gaze traveling from my face down to my breasts. He st
ared at me unabashedly, as if wanting to make me as uncomfortable as possible. It was almost as though he wanted to make me feel like nothing more than a vehicle for his desire, rather than a person. I felt myself inhale deeply. "Please don't do this," I whispered but I couldn't deny the fact that something was heating within me, something fueled by the expression in his eyes when they'd feasted on my cleavage.

  He brought his eyes, which were now alight with desire, up to mine and smiled, but it was a smile of victory. "You know you want me to."

  I swallowed hard because I couldn't argue. It was true that I wanted his hands all over me, his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth and his penis inside me, but I also knew now was not the right time nor the right place. Not when things weren't good between us. I dropped my gaze to the ground, angry with myself for my own duplicitous feelings. But Knight wasn't going to allow me to hide. Instead, he tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

  "Please," I said again, my voice husky with desire.

  Saying nothing, he stared down at me and I was sure he realized I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me, to have him claim me again. I just watched him, my eyes wide as I tried to guess at his thoughts. He continued to stare at me, finally releasing my hair. When I thought he'd back away, he held his ground. I shrank beneath his rigorous gaze.

  "Knight," I said, but lost my train of thought when he touched his index finger to my stomach and traced the waist of my yoga pants. While keeping his gaze fixed on mine, he looped his fingers beneath my pants and tugged, dragging them down my legs, exposing every inch of me, because I wasn’t wearing panties beneath them. He kneeled down until his hamstrings rested on his heels and he was exactly eye level with my navel. Of course, his eyes traveled downward, resting on the triangle between my legs. I tried to shimmy my hips away from him, but his hold on my pants was tight and he simply reached down, slipping my sneaker off and pulled one pant leg free. With my arms cuffed behind my back, I was helpless to stop him.

  "Knight, please stop," I said again, realizing he was lapping up the sight of my nude body, his eyes transfixed. "This isn’t the right place for this," I started. "I don't want ..."

  "You don't want me?" he asked, suddenly looking at me, but obviously not believing such was the case, because a smile turned up the corners of his mouth and his eyes were vibrant and alive. He knew I wanted him.

  "I don't want to do this right now," I stammered, even as something inside me firmly planted its heels in the dirt, invalidating my words. No, the truth was that I wanted to feel him inside me now more than ever before. "Not when things are this bad between us," I added, my tone of voice so soft that it nearly disappeared on the slight breeze that wafted between us.

  Knight chuckled acidly. "Things will never be good between us again, but that doesn't change the fact that I still want this." With that, he grabbed my ass, pulling me into him, until my lower body was maybe four inches from his face ... and his mouth.

  I tried to step away from him, but didn't get far, considering he'd taken hold of my thigh with his vise-like grip. With my arms behind my back, I was basically his for the taking. He stood up and pushed me against the Denali again, studying me, his fingers now beneath my bra. "I don't want to do this," I whispered, the tone of my voice in complete contradiction to my words.

  Knight didn't respond but gripped the cups of my bra and with the strength inherent in his species, simply tore it in half as I gasped out in shock. My breasts bounced with the attack as my heart thundered in my chest. Knight's eyes narrowed as he stared at me, watching my breathing shorten into shallow gasps. His eyes traveled down my face and rested on my bare breasts, my nipples alert and standing at attention. He brought his fingers to one of them and pinched it softly, rolling it between his fingers. I dropped my head back and moaned. I was helpless to his touch.

  "Tell me you don't want it," he whispered, his breath causing goose bumps to dance across my skin. I didn't respond. "Tell me … you … don't ... want ... it," he demanded much more slowly, pronouncing every syllable of every word in a steely tone. Before I could stop him, I felt his fingers slip between my thighs. I jumped at the invasion as he started rubbing me in gentle circles. Then I threw my head back, unable to stifle another moan from escaping my lips, only this one was much louder.

  "Open your eyes and look at me," he demanded, his fingers suddenly going still. I did and found him staring at me with a hungry gaze. "Funny that you say you don't want it," he said archly, "when you're soaking wet."

  I couldn't respond because his fingers had resumed rubbing me back and forth, playing with me, torturing me, stealing my ability to form words. "Why," I started, but when he increased the pressure on my sensitive nub, I had to fight the need to arch against him. "Why are you doing this?" I breathed out finally, insisting my logical side regain control.

  He chuckled at that. "Why am I doing this?" he repeated, shaking his head as the smile dropped right off his lips. "I'm doing this because I can." And then he thrust his fingers inside me as if to prove his point. There was no warning, no warming me up with one finger and then adding another. He simply forced his fingers in me and I could feel myself growing wetter. I was on the brink of an orgasm as he pulled his fingers out and rammed them back into me again, nothing tender about it. I screamed and clenched my eyes shut as I felt myself give in to the tremors that were starting to quake inside me.

  "Come on, Dulcie," Knight taunted me. "Show me what you're feeling."

  And so I let go. I allowed my hips to gyrate against him as I threw my head back and let the orgasm seize me. Allowing it to take hold of me, I screamed until my voice was hoarse. A few crows squawked their protest and flapped away from the tree they'd been resting on, but I was elsewhere. When I opened my eyes, I found Knight's glowing. This time, he did nothing to conceal them. He pulled his fingers out of me and dropped to his knees, grabbing me by the ass as he brought my pelvis forward. He glanced up at me, his expression daring me to stop him and then buried his face between my thighs, lifting my leg up slightly and dropping it over his shoulder so he could slip his tongue deep inside me. I started to whimper with pleasure, my hips undulating as another orgasm gripped me and caused my legs to shake uncontrollably.

  My knees were becoming the consistency of jelly, and when I felt like they were going to buckle, he lifted me against the Denali and I wrapped them snugly around his middle. Balancing me against the SUV, he reached down and unzipped his pants, staring at me as he freed himself and rubbed his hardness against me, sighing at the wetness he was about to enter.

  "Tell me," he demanded, his lips tight. "Tell me again that you don't want this."

  He gripped each of my thighs, spreading me wide. Teasingly, he entered me with the very tip of his penis. I felt myself stretching to accommodate him, preparing for his entry.

  "Answer me," he demanded gruffly.

  There was no way I could deny that I wanted him. "I want it," I said softly. "I want you."

  Knight chuckled, and gripping my thighs, stuffed himself into me, as deeply as he could. I screamed out against the intrusion and bucked against him as he started to drive himself in and out mercilessly. He grasped a fistful of my hair and held it tightly as I opened my eyes and found his on me.

  "Lie to me, Dulcie," he said, his eyes narrowed. "Lie to me and tell me you love me."

  I felt my brows knot in the middle as I focused on his beautiful blue eyes, his face so chiseled and perfect I'd never seen another to equal its beauty. Feeling his body inside mine, there was no one else—there never had been anyone else. "I love you," I said softly, about to add that it wasn't a lie, but Knight didn't allow me the chance. Instead, he thrust inside me so hard, I felt like I needed to brace myself, which, of course, wasn't possible since my hands were bound behind me. Knight lifted me up higher and slammed me against the Denali, pushing into me as deeply and quickly as he could. We'd never had sex like this before—never anything this bestial and furious.

  It was su
ddenly very obvious that Knight hated himself because he still loved me.

  His thrusts were gaining momentum as he bit his lower lip, driving himself into me as hard as he could. He clenched his eyes shut and moaned loudly as he climaxed inside me, grinding his pelvis into mine.

  When he opened his eyes again, he didn't say anything, but pulled out of me and lifting me by my waist, brought me to the ground. He reached down and gripped my pants, pulling them up my legs. Glancing at my breasts, he sighed and took hold of his T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. I couldn't help my gaze, which was fastened onto his chiseled upper body, so broad with sinuous muscle. He draped his shirt over my head, then realizing I was helpless to dress myself, yanked it down to cover me. Grabbing my arm and opening the passenger door of the Denali, he lifted me up and placed me back into my seat. When I looked down at him, his eyes were even angrier than they had been earlier, as if now he was berating himself for not resisting the need to be inside me.

  "This changes nothing between us," he said.

  ###

  The remainder of the ride was silent except for Pearl Jam's album, “Ten,” which was still blasting through the speakers, so loud it was obvious that Knight didn't want any conversation. When we pulled off the two-lane highway and onto a dirt road, I had to summon the interest to pay attention to my surroundings. The terrain hadn’t changed much and looked the same as when we'd pulled over. Unrecognizable.