Knight's Dominion (Knights of Hell Book 4)

by Sherilee Gray

  She pouted. "Too bad."

  "Yeah, too bad." Grace’s hands curled into fists as an emotion she didn't want to name reared its ugly, unmistakably green head. "You okay here on your own?"

  "Sure."

  "I'll be back after my dance."

  The poor girl hadn’t done anything wrong. She was right, they were hot, all of them, and their newest staff member had eyes in her head. Why the hell should Grace care if the girl was mentally undressing Chaos and all but drooling down her chin?

  But dammit, she did.

  And right then she needed to get the fuck away before she succumbed to the rage building inside her chest and accidentally on purpose tripped the girl, then stomped on her.

  The changing room was empty when she walked in. Good thing, no one needed to be around her at the moment. And if Grace was honest, the anger growing inside her with every passing second had nothing to do with the female behind the bar, not really.

  Chaos being kind of distant, perfectly professional, last night after they'd left his apartment, and again tonight when he’d walked in here, should please her. But it didn’t. It felt…wrong. She was trying to work out her jumbled emotions, and since she was seriously struggling with that, anger had become her default. Anger she was used to. Knew what to do with.

  Grabbing her favorite black leather corset, the one that made her small tits look much bigger than they were, and sheer lilac panties that were feminine and delicate with ruffles on the butt, she quickly changed. Her stockings and garters had black satin bows and her heels were spiked but cute. She'd had several outfits made, different themes to match her moods. But this one, the mix of vixen and virgin always earned her fantastic tips.

  That was the only reason she was desperate to get out on the stage for her performance tonight, right?

  It had nothing to do with the way her skin still tingled, telegraphing loud and clear that Chaos was in the building. Of course not.

  Pulling her hair back, she secured it into a tight bun, then slid on a pair of black-framed glasses and the finishing touch, a gray, houndstooth pencil skirt and fitted jacket.

  One naughty librarian coming up.

  When she walked past Vince's office, the door was open and the room was empty. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d closed her eyes and reached out, searching for Chaos. She wasn’t even sure it would work. It did. Oh God, she felt him. The tingling across her skin intensified.

  Since the mating, her body hummed and burned when he was close.

  He apparently could turn it off at will.

  After a few words to John, the lighting and sound guy, she stood back and waited for him to introduce her. Moments later the lights went low and silence engulfed the club.

  John introduced her and she walked out slowly, the click of her heels ringing out, drawing everyone’s eyes her way.

  A spotlight hit her, revealing her to the crowd, and the opening notes of her song started. She strutted to the chair waiting on the other side of the stage, and dragged it with her, hips swinging, to the middle of the floor.

  She was going for slow and sensual to start with. The tease began with unbinding her long blond hair and letting it fall down her back. Moving around the chair, she sat and arched against it, sliding her hands from her throat, down over her breasts, stomach, and thighs, then fisting the hem of her skirt, she dragged it higher.

  Lifting her hand to her mouth, eyes wide, she spread her legs slightly, giving just a peek of her panties. “Oops.” With the skirt still hitched up, she spun and bent over, rolling her hips.

  A dark, volatile wave of emotion washed over her, stealing her breath, but not in a bad way.

  Chaos.

  He was watching her.

  The wave thickened, wrapped around her like a sensual haze, and for some insane reason, she let it take hold, embracing it. With her back still turned, she let her jacket slide from her shoulders and pulled off the glasses, dropping them with the jacket.

  The skirt went next, right as the music picked up pace, going from slow and easy to moody. Heavier. It pumped through the big speakers on either side of the stage, and she let it move through her, her hands drifting lower, then sliding between her thighs.

  Chaos’s mood changed, she sensed it brushing over her skin, rolling through her. Anger, jealousy, and lust blasted her from all sides, that iron-clad control of his was slipping and he didn't like it one bit. She craved his surrender to it in a way she didn't understand.

  The corset and panties stayed on, for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to take them off. And as the final notes of the song died away and the lights dimmed, no longer blinding her to the audience, she looked out. She didn’t have to search hard.

  He stood close to the stage, looming in a way that warned every other male in the room to stay back, staking a claim he didn't have a right to, not really, not with their agreement. Still, a thrill of excitement shot through her.

  His dark eyes were trained on her, unwavering, predatory, filled with heat and fire...promise.

  She spun around, giving him her back, and stalked off, hoping like hell her legs would hold out with her knees suddenly shaking.

  In the dressing room, she quickly slid on a pair of jeans, but left on the corset, then headed back out to the club. Like she'd promised, she headed back to their newbie at the bar. And as she moved, she could feel Chaos’s eyes on her, burning into her the entire way.

  Do not look at him.

  He’d see it in her eyes that her dance had been for him, only him. "You getting the hang of things?” she asked the female when she reached the bar.

  The girl stared at her, eyes wide, and Grace realized just how young she was, maybe nineteen, twenty, and her chest squeezed.

  "How did you learn to dance like that?" she asked, awe in her voice.

  Grace forced a smile. “Someone taught me when I was about your age.”

  "Can you teach me?"

  Had she ever been this naive, this innocent? “You'll make decent tips waiting tables, you don't need to rush into anything.”

  The girl frowned at her, more than likely assuming something else was behind her motives in discouraging her. “I’d be good. I know I would."

  Grace rested her hand on the younger female’s shoulder. "I don't doubt it. You still want to dance in six months, when you’ve been here a little longer, I’ll teach you, okay?”

  The girl’s eyes slid from Grace’s, moved behind her, and the frown vanished, her mouth dropping open.

  Grace knew who was standing behind her before she turned to face the leader of the Knights of Hell. A warrior. A protector of her people. Her mate. She'd felt him stalking her like prey from a distance since she’d walked back onto the floor.

  She’d relished every second.

  "Let's go," he said before she could get a word out.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. "I'm working, Mr. Personality, and despite what you think, the world doesn't stop turning because of you.” She didn’t know why she was fighting this, why she was grasping on to that last bit of the anger she carried from her past.

  Because your anger is all you have left of your family.

  The muscle in his square jaw jumped. "I've cleared it with Vince.”

  "What? How?"

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Knight business."

  “Really? And what business is that?” Though she knew exactly what it was. Lust flowed from Chaos to her in a relentless ebb and flow of intoxicating waves, building ever higher.

  He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "I'm going to give you what you want, what we both want. What I wanted to do to you last night." He lifted his head and held her gaze. “That little performance. You wanted me to lose control, yes?"

  She swallowed hard. She’d told herself she could turn him on, then turn him down, like he had her. It was utter bullshit. She wanted him so badly that she trembled. “Maybe.”

  "You got your wish."

  Then her han
d was engulfed in his and he was leading her through the club and out the back to the internal stairs that would take them to her apartment. His long legs took the steps two at a time, forcing her to scramble beside him. Before she could pull her key from her back pocket, he lifted a hand and used his powers to unlock the door.

  It shut behind them with a bang, and he turned, gripped her hips, lifted her off the ground, and slammed her against the door. His mouth came down on hers, hot and hungry a second later, his tongue sliding against hers, his erection between her thighs, grinding hard.

  She wrenched her head to the side. "We shouldn't do this.” As much as she wanted him, she knew everything would change if they did this now. Everything.

  Pinned to the door by the hips, she had nowhere to go, and he didn't back off. She didn't think he even heard her, until he pulled back with a growl and stared down at her.

  "You're lying to yourself if you think either of us can walk away now." He did some more grinding and she groaned. "Am I wrong?"

  She didn't want to think about it, didn’t want to talk anymore, didn't want to admit how much she wanted this, not to him, not to herself. So she stopped protesting, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him back down, kissing him, hard.

  Gripping her ass, he carried her to the bed and threw her on it. He came down on top of her, covering her with his body. His mouth came back to hers, opening wide, forcing hers to do the same, his head tilting to the side, fucking her mouth with his, owning it.

  “You wanted me to tear those pretty little panties off, didn’t you, Grace? Knew that would be all I could think about when I saw them.” One large, hot hand moved down between their bodies and he worked the zipper on her jeans, shoving them down her legs and off, tossing them to the floor.

  He flipped her onto her stomach and jerked up her hips so she was on her knees, face in the blankets. He covered her sheer lilac underwear with his hand, his rough and calloused fingers snagging on the delicate fabric as he pressed two fingers against her swollen clit with a hiss. “Drenched, like I knew you would be. Gonna eat that wet pussy now," he growled, then tore the panties from her body and flung them aside. "Spread nice and wide for me.”

  She didn't try to fight it, didn’t want to. She spread her knees wider, offering herself up to him. Right then he could have done whatever he wanted to her and she wouldn't have protested.

  His shaved head prickled her skin a second before his hot mouth covered her pussy and his tongue slid over her clit. She arched her back, lifting her ass higher, seeking more, and he gave it to her, working her sensitive flesh until she was writhing and begging.

  She came hard against his mouth, fisting the sheets as deep, rumbling groans vibrated through her, making it that much more intense.

  He reared up behind her, making a sound like a hungry lion. “Love the way you taste. Could eat you all night and never get enough. But if I don’t get inside you right fucking now, I'll lose my mind, angel.”

  So would she.

  His T-shirt landed on the floor beside the bed.

  She was flipped over again, and he loomed above her as she slid her hands down his ripped chest and abs. She’d never seen a male as beautiful as him, and she wanted to touch him.

  He lifted up to his knees. “Free my cock.”

  She ran her hands down over his cut abs, hard and tight like hot stone, around to his hips, then brought them to the front to pop the button open. She bit her lip and looked up at him.

  He cursed, and she smirked.

  Brushing her hands aside impatiently, he tore the front of his jeans open, shoved them down, and freed his beautiful dick. Grace bit her lip and moaned as he wrapped his fingers around it. Was he trembling?

  She watched in hungry fascination as he slid his fist up and down the hard length several times.

  "You want this?" he asked.

  Would he make her admit it? Could she?

  "You want my cock, Grace?" he asked again, so deep she felt those words move through her.

  "Is your ego so big I have to spell it out for you?" She was stalling, and he knew it. She also knew that his ego wasn’t the actual reason he was making her say it.

  He squeezed his dick and moaned softly. “Need to hear you say it." His free hand moved up her body and tugged her corset down so her nipples popped over the top. He ran a finger around an aching tip, then pinched. “Tell me.”

  "Argh...all right. Yes. I want it. Happy now?"

  He grinned all wicked and arrogant.

  Before she could open her mouth, she was back on her stomach, ass in the air, and he was moving in behind her.

  Grace pushed back, arching against him. The fat, blunt head of his cock notched against her opening, then he was pushing in, spreading her wide. God, he felt even bigger like this. She dropped her head to the mattress and groaned as he filled her, steadily, barely giving her a moment to adjust, to catch her breath.

  His hands went to her hips, and she was forced to hang on as he immediately started pounding into her, hard and so damn deep.

  “Fuck yes,” he gritted out.

  He took her like a man deprived, a man consumed with his need. A need she thought that perhaps only she could satisfy. And dammit, the feeling was mutual.

  “God, harder,” she groaned.

  Chaos cursed and gave it to her, bodies slapping, skin slick, feeding their out-of-control hunger for each other.

  Suddenly, he pulled out and flipped her again. He shoved his thighs between hers, eyes latching on to her own, then he slammed back in.

  Grace cried out, clinging to him as he came down on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand going to the nape of her neck, holding her where he wanted her as he took control of her mouth again. The other went to her ass, gripping her flesh tight in that big, rough-skinned hand.

  His massive body strained, rolled, thrusting into her, not an inch of space between them. She’d never felt anything like this, this good. Being with Chaos was darkness and light. Dirty, yet somehow tender. Ravenous hunger and the deepest satisfaction all at the same time.

  She gripped his hard, muscled ass as he thrust into her, encouraging him to fuck her even harder.

  He was all she could feel against her skin, filling her over and over again, and her next orgasm was already building. His dark eyes stayed focused on her, seeing everything. She couldn't take the intensity and squeezed her eyes closed, turning away.

  “No. Look at me," he said. "I want to make sure you see me when I'm fucking you, that you know it’s me making you come."

  Did he truly think she could be anywhere but right there with him?

  He growled, the sound so raw and animalistic she wondered if his demon had joined them, but his eyes were still a dark, rich brown. His thrusts got harder, like he was punishing her, like making her come right then meant something she couldn't fathom.

  For some reason, the idea that he thought she wanted someone else, was thinking of someone else, wasn’t something she could bear, so she kept her eyes open and locked on his. Even when the pleasure moved through her, so intense she had no hope of holding back her cries. And when it finally became too much, she arched her head back and let sensation take over, focused on the feel of his big cock thrusting in and out of her. The way her inner muscles tightened around him. The sounds of his grunts and growls.

  “That's it. Fuck, that's it, Grace. Give it to me. All to me."

  She couldn’t think about those words, the meaning behind them, not when he planted himself deep inside her and came with her, growling low.

  “Tell me you won’t deny me this anymore, Grace. Please, don't deny me you," he said against her throat.

  Chapter 24

  Grace stilled beneath him.

  Fuck.

  "Grace?"

  She was quiet for the longest time, then finally, she sucked in a breath. “Deny you anymore? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Fuck, he’d said it out loud, hadn’t he? Fucking i
diot. “I didn’t mean…I don’t know what I’m…”

  He did not stutter or stumble over his words. He sure as fuck didn’t get flustered. Ever.

  She shifted under him. “Spit it out, Chaos.”

  He ignored how good that subtle movement felt. How her silky skin and those long, sexy legs moved against him. How hard she was making him all over again, and worked at sorting out what he needed to say. Honesty would probably be a good start, because this wasn’t working for him.

  The truth was undeniable.

  He couldn’t live like this.

  For some reason it was hard, holding those beautiful brown eyes. This female, shit, she made him feel unsure, vulnerable. Again, not something he was used to. He sure as fuck didn’t like it.

  He cleared his throat because his vocal cords were so damn tight. “This mating thing, it’s a fuck of a lot stronger than either of us realized. You feel that, too, yes?”

  Please say yes.

  He held his breath, only letting it out when she slowly nodded.

  “Sex is a big part of it, and I..." Shit. However he said this would make him sound like an asshole. He pushed on. "I haven't...I can't be with anyone else.” I don’t want anyone else. “When you mate, you’re supposed to live together. What we're doing…it's not natural, and it's...it's messing with my head, my control." Admitting that was a hit to his ego, especially since she obviously wasn't suffering the same problem. Yeah, she wanted him, but not like he did her, not in a tear-the-walls-down-with-her-bare-hands-to-get-to-him kind of way.

  Her fingers flexed against his ribs, and he realized he hadn't restrained her like he'd planned to. Then he remembered the way her hands felt on his body while he'd fucked her, the way she'd clung to him, how much he’d liked it. His dick got even harder.

  “You want to live together? We’ve already been over this.”

  That’s exactly what he wanted, but going by the horror in her voice, in her eyes, that wasn’t an option.

  Her chest rose and fell in an agitated way, and he wanted to lean in and taste her smooth skin, draw one of those aching little buds into his mouth and take away whatever she was feeling right then.