Black Knight (Royal Elite Book 4)

by Rina Kent

  I call, but there’s no answer.

  Once, I read an article about the brain’s reaction when someone is scared. The first instinct is to run.

  That’s what’s happening to me right now. I want to run to Xander’s house and find him. I want to run in the streets and search for him. If he’s fighting, I’ll pull him out of it and punch him in the chest for hurting his beautiful face.

  If he’s drinking, I’ll confiscate the alcohol and punch him again for ruining his liver.

  Okay, so maybe punching isn’t the right solution, but I’m nearly going out of my mind with worry here.

  The showdown with Jeanine earlier didn’t put me out of my element as much as not knowing Xander’s fate.

  Dark thoughts keep creeping into my mind. What if he’s hurt? What if he’s passed out somewhere and no one finds him? Worse, what if the wrong people find him?

  I should call Lewis and –

  A sound from my balcony jolts me. It’s like a bird or an insect. It happens again, and this time, I jump up from the bed.

  I contemplate calling Dad, but it’s probably nothing that warrants waking him up.

  Slowly, I slide the balcony’s door open. A gust of wind blows my hair back and seeps under my thin clothes, causing me to shiver. I’m about to peek outside when a strong hand wraps around my mouth and shoves me inside.

  I shriek, but it’s muffled.

  My limbs flail around and I try to fight, but then the rest of my senses kick in. Mint and ocean scent, the dimples, and his warmth.

  Xander.

  “Shh.” He throws me on the bed and kicks his shoes away before he follows.

  And by follows, I mean he traps me underneath him, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand as his palm continues to cover my mouth.

  The hardness of his body against mine sends shivers of pleasure between my thighs. The position is so intimate and close – so close.

  “Is this how your fantasy starts, Green?” The glint in his eyes coupled with his dimples are a sight to behold.

  I remember there’s something I want to ask, something I want to make sure of, but now that he’s imprisoning me like this, I’ve lost all thoughts.

  I’m just glad he’s here, he’s safe, and he’s with me.

  He’s the only thing that remains. His intense edge and his solid form. His body against mine, our breath mingling.

  It should be forbidden to want someone this much.

  To yearn for him this hard, even when he’s all over me.

  I miss him already, and he just got here.

  “Do you know what I’ll do to you now?” He hovers over me, his lips inches away from my throat.

  I shake my head once.

  He grins, the motion sly, and even his dimples appear sinister. “That’s the point. The fantasy is yours, but the direction will be all mine.”

  He releases my mouth and I exhale harshly into the air. It takes effort to suck breaths into my starved lungs.

  Xander yanks my top to above my breasts and I moan as he grabs one roughly.

  “These perfect tits are mine.” His mouth latches on my nipple, teasing it against his teeth.

  My back arches off the bed due to the strength of the stimuli. Is it crazy that I’m about to orgasm here and now?

  No idea if it’s because of the position, the torturing sensation in my hardened nipples, or the fact that he’s dominating my being right now.

  His other hand reaches between us and he shoves down my pyjamas and underwear in one go.

  The tips of his fingers sample my tender folds before he cups me. “This cunt is fucking mine.”

  “And if I say no?” I challenge, and it’s just that, a challenge. A way to rile him up because I might be going out of my mind with pleasure and I want him to give me his all.

  To show me his true self – uncut, imperfect, but so utterly whole.

  “No, as in it’s not mine?” His tone is calm, but his grip tightens around my core, creating delicious friction.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, you fucked up, Green.”

  He releases me for a beat to fumble with his jeans. “You know what will happen now?”

  “No?” I don’t know why it came out as a question, but I’m too aroused to think about that at the moment.

  “I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll only want to be mine. Now, tomorrow, and fucking always.”

  Xander lifts both my legs so they’re resting on his shoulders. “Keep them there.”

  I do, even though I’m shaking, my body whirling with that need for something, anything.

  The build-up will kill me any second now.

  He slams inside me so deep, I can feel him all the way inside. Oh, God.

  My mouth opens in a wordless cry.

  With my hands above my head, I’m too helpless to move or try to wiggle free – not that I want to.

  It takes one thrust, one single thrust, and I’m screaming my orgasm.

  He shoves a palm against my mouth, muting the sound as he powers into me. With every thrust, he hits a magical spot that drives me insane.

  I don’t even come down from the first orgasm, and another one bleeds into it. My continuous shriek is interrupted by his rhythm. The way he’s muffling my mouth and pinning my hands over my head while owning my body is more than a fantasy, it’s undoing me.

  It’s finding pieces of me I never thought were there.

  It’s belonging in its truest, rawest form.

  His pace escalates with a strength that leaves me breathless.

  “You.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “Mine.”

  He releases inside me with a groan. I feel so full of him, it’s making me delirious.

  I’m panting. My hair sticks to my nape and temples with sweat. Perspiration covers my entire body and shines on his hard muscles.

  I’m still shaking so bad, I don’t think I’ll ever come down off this high.

  So this is what it means to be thoroughly fucked.

  Xan doesn’t pull out of me, but he lays my feet on the mattress. His hot lips make their way up my belly, my breasts, and my neck before he removes his hand and claims my mouth in a rough kiss.

  And then he’s moving inside me again, slow and measured, almost as if he’s savouring my body for the very first time.

  Another type of pleasure grips me, one that’s filled with years of longing, of missed chances, and toxic habits.

  Xander and I started with a tragedy, but we found company in it. We fought our pain with hugs and kisses and small touches.

  Now, we’re fighting it in a different way. Now, we’ll taste it on each other’s tongue and see it in the scars left behind, whether physical or emotional.

  And with pain comes release.

  With pain comes freedom.

  I’ve never felt freer than when I’m held down by him.

  He’s slowly but surely taking away my pain, and I’ll also take his.

  He might have been my knight, but I’ll be his now. I’ll bring back his armour and his sword.

  So he can stop the war.

  His hips jerk with the power of his thrusts. The moment he flicks my clit, I’m a goner again.

  Completely. Thoroughly. With no way back.

  “I’m going to miss this, Green,” he grunts. “I’m going to miss you when I’m gone.”

  37

  Xander

  There are a few expressions I never want to witness again on Kim’s face.

  The first is that pale, hollow one with her wrists slit.

  The second is seeing her cry, because she does it with so much pain, it rips me open.

  The third is the fake look and the smiles she’s forced in the past in order to appear normal.

  Now, I find another one.

  Fear.

  As she lies in my arms while we’re facing each other, she stares at me with widened eyes and her chin trembles, although she’s clearly trying to control it.

  It’s not working.

&n
bsp; She’s about to break down and there’s no way around it.

  As I watch her, I wish there was an option where I could stop it. If it means I have to rip my heart out and lay it before her on a plate, then so fucking be it.

  “W-what is that supposed to mean?”

  I say nothing. I don’t know what to say.

  She grips my bicep with her tiny hand. I can’t help staring at those scars – long, disfigured, and a witness of the time she had no other way to go. Even though the bracelet hides some of them, they’re still visible and angry against the world.

  A world I’m leaving her alone in.

  “Xander, you said you’ll miss me. Where are you going?” she insists.

  I take her hand in mine and brush my lips against her scars, and like every fucking time, she shivers, as if I’m not kissing her skin but her soul.

  “To heal,” I say against her most beautiful part. The proof she’s a survivor.

  “T-to heal?”

  “Rehab. Dad and I agreed on the thirty-day program, but it could go to the sixty-day one.”

  “Oh,” the word leaves her lips in a breath. She’s happy about it, but like me, she has that imminent doom lurking in her expression.

  The fact of our separation.

  I stroke her green strands back. Another beautiful part – her quirky old self shining through. It’s proof that the little girl is still there, broken but able to pull her pieces together.

  “Then there’s the whole shitstorm with my mother. If she carries on with her threats, we’ll be under a lot of scrutiny for being siblings and I don’t want you in the middle of that.”

  She places a hand in front of my mouth, cutting off my sentence. “I don’t care what the world says. You were never and will never be my brother. I have one sibling and it’s not you.”

  I kiss her fingers before removing them. “Thank fuck for that.”

  She bites on the corner of her lip. “Dad says we might have to leave the country altogether.”

  “Mine did, too.”

  “I don’t care, you know.”

  “No?”

  She threads her fingers through mine. “It’s not places that keep me rooted, it’s people. This place is my home because you’re all in it. If we go together, we’ll just be relocating home.”

  I’m glad she’s thinking like that, even though she’s forgetting important things – like our friends and everyone we know.

  But I keep that to myself and change the subject. “If this shitstorm had never happened, where were you planning to go next year?”

  “Imperial College, and I was going to take Kirian with me. There’s no way in hell I was leaving him with Jeanine. Now that Dad is around, my plans have slightly changed.”

  “To what?”

  “I don’t know. The sky is my limit.” She strokes the back of my hand. “What about you? Do you still want to go to Harvard?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  She blushes. “I heard you talk to Lewis once.”

  I smirk. “Stalker.”

  “Shut up. So? Are you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I only wanted to go there because it was the farthest place I could go to be away from you. I chose it to escape you. Now, that won’t be happening, even if you beg for it.”

  Her smile is contagious and I can’t help pulling her cheek to me and kissing it.

  “Then what’s your plan now?” she asks.

  “You.”

  “M-me?”

  “Yes, you. Wherever you go, I go.”

  “Come on. You must have some dream in mind. Do you still like reading the economic part of the news?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “So you’re following business?”

  “Probably, but only if it doesn’t keep me away from you.”

  “Of course it wouldn’t. Besides, sacrifices need to be made for success.”

  “The only sacrifice I’m making is the rehab. I mean, healing, not sacrifice.”

  Her expression falls and her deep green eyes fill with wretchedness.

  “When are you going?” she asks in a small voice.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “That soon?” Her words break at the end.

  “Yeah, Lewis Knight’s friends work fast.”

  “They do.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I also don’t want to leave this soon, but I have to do it anyway, so I might as well rip it as a Band-Aid.

  “Don’t be.” She leans over and brushes her lips against mine. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I’m proud of you, too, Green.”

  A tear falls down her cheek and she wipes it away quickly.

  I cup her chin. “Hey, what is it?”

  “It’s just, I waited so long to hear you say something like that to me.”

  I kiss her tear away. “From now on, you’ll be hearing it the entire fucking time. You’re mine, Green, and I’ll protect you with my life.”

  “I’ll protect you, too.”

  “Is that so? From who?”

  “From yourself. From the world. From anyone who tries to harm you.”

  “So you’re like my knight now?”

  “Uh-huh. Get used to it.”

  “Let me see about that.” I pull her to me and lift her leg so I can slide my dick into her cunt.

  She’s already so wet. Both of us moan as I’m sheathed deep inside her.

  I fuck her as slow as the time that passed while I waited for her those seven years.

  I fuck her while staring at her, letting her know that she’s it for me. I don’t have to be thirty-something to know that. I’ve known it since the moment the woman who gave birth to me abandoned me and Kim hugged me, promising never to leave me.

  I knew it when she held my hand and cried with me, even when I told her I didn’t like seeing her cry.

  I didn’t understand the levitation in my chest back then, but now, I do.

  What I feel for Kim isn’t only about our bodies’ connection or our history, it’s also about our pain. It’s about the fact that her presence dulls the emptiness like no alcohol ever will.

  The orgasm that hits her shakes both of us to the core. She wraps her arms around me and hides her face in my neck as she whispers, “I love you, Xan. I’ve been in love with you for so long, I don’t know when it started or if it’ll ever end.”

  And just like that, I’m a goner.

  38

  Xander

  After tangling herself around me, kissing me, and whispering things in my ear, Kim finally loses the long biological battle with sleep and drifts off.

  My chest still aches at remembering the words she said. Like how much she loves me, how much loving me has saved her.

  At that moment, I couldn't speak. I still can't, because I have no right to say those words when I'm leaving.

  I stand by the bed, fully dressed, and stroke the stray green hair off her cheek. She moans softly, leaning into my touch.

  Everything in me shouts at me to stay.

  To hold her.

  Kiss her.

  Never leave her side again.

  But Dad is right; I don't deserve her. Not yet.

  With one last glance at her, I step out of her room. Before leaving, I have to go to a place and get her a gift, but first, I bring out my phone and type.

  Xander: Remember that day you named me your knight? We were in the park and you were wearing that green princess dress with ribbons and lace and shit. Your hair wasn't brushed, and you had this green crown on top that you made Calvin buy you for Halloween. Then you said, 'Hey, Xan. Every princess needs a knight and you're honoured cuz I'm making you mine.' The moment I knelt in front of you while you blessed me with a bamboo sword, mimicking the queen, was my happiest childhood memory. It was the first time you dressed up and smiled after your grandmother’s death and I felt so damn proud to bring joy to your life. That's why I hugged you straight after and nearly sq
ueezed you to death. When you looked at me with those huge eyes, I wasn't only a knight, I was a fucking God. I still feel the same whenever you look at me, and that's why I had to hate you after I overheard Dad and Jeanine.

  I knew. I just knew, even at eleven, that I didn't want to be your brother. I fucking hated it and I wanted to shout it out loud. I wanted to grab Dad and ask him why, but I bottled it all inside. For years, I looked at you and knew I couldn't touch you. For years, I ached to talk to you, to tell you it hurt without you, and that I missed you. I missed being your knight, your armour against the world, but most of all, I missed being your closest friend. The more I wanted to do that, the harder I hated myself and I directed that hatred at you. I hurt you because it hurt me. I hated you because the opposite was fucking impossible. I became War because wars are mass destruction to everyone – me included.

  I couldn't be your knight anymore and it slowly killed me. Finding out I'm part of the reason you decided to end your life was the last chip in my armour before it was destroyed to pieces. But then it started building again because of someone. You. Since that night you barged into my room, hugged me, and told me we share no DNA, I've been slowly shedding War and building back my armour.

  You were right. I was honoured to be your knight. Now, I have to be a worthy of that title and you again.

  I'll heal, like I'm sure you will. I won't fix you and you won't fix me. We’ll just hug each other like we used to do in the past. If Samantha stirs any shit up, I'll kiss you in front of the world and shout that you're mine, their judgement be damned. The universe doesn't matter, Green, you do.

  Then. Now. Always.

  39

  Kimberly

  Loneliness is a morbid thing. It starts with that small feeling of emptiness and morphs into something completely unavoidable.

  That’s how it’s felt since Xan left weeks ago.

  Lonely. Empty. Miserable, even.

  It’s true that we were practically separated for seven years, but even back then, I saw him every day. In his garden, with Kir, at school. He was always a constant in my life.

  Now that he’s gone, I feel like my air supply is slowly diminishing and will one day dim to nothing.