Hard Knight: Dark Mafia Romance

by Faye Pierce

  She dispels that fear by smiling. It lights up her face, but it doesn’t compare to the way that she walks toward the bed with her two hands lightly toying with the straps of her white summer dress.

  It lowers over her shoulders and falls lazily to her feet, revealing nothing underneath. Her body is a work of art, and I have the perfect paintbrush to make her see all the colors of the rainbow.

  Valeria

  I tease him seductively with a casual glance over my bare shoulders. The moonlight guides me to the bed until I sit down, waiting for him to join me.

  “I’m glad we have come to an understanding. I was a little worried you might be too rigid to give me a little bit of freedom. This place takes a lot of getting used to,” I whisper with my finger, motioning for him to come closer.

  Caspian unbuttons his shirt with every step until it joins my dress on the floor. He reaches for his belt, but I wag my finger back and forth, chastising him for taking the privilege out of my hands. He removes his hands and stands within a few inches until my fingers diligently take off his belt.

  I toss it over my shoulder without worrying where it is going to land.

  My hands shake when I pop the button on his pants and slowly lower the zipper to see the prize package within. It makes my mouth dry, but I salivate for the chance to consume him down to the root. It takes a little effort to free from the confines of his black silk underwear.

  The material is soft against my fingertips.

  I giggle when it almost smacks me in the face before I get my hand wrapped around it. It’s so hot that it almost burns my fingers. I enjoy exploring his firm real estate in the palm of my hand.

  There’s no rush, and he stands with restraint, letting me take the reins of control for the time being.

  My mouth descends, and he receives the mark of my lipstick followed by the warmth of my lips, slowly drawing him within the heated interior of my mouth.

  It’s a powerful feeling to have him at my mercy on the edge of losing control. It’s fun to see the look in his eyes. It’s pure and unadulterated lust when I finally devour the full extent of his manhood. His applause comes from within. His cock pulses on the surface of my tongue.

  “That feels amazing. I promise to give you everything, including nights of passion that leave you breathless and unable to walk straight. That’s my vow,” he says, unblinking.

  He’s staring at the way that my head is bobbing in his lap.

  Taking it slow is a pleasure beyond words. Feeling him coming to the edge is my cue to back away from the heat at the risk of ruining things prematurely. There are many hours until daybreak.

  I plan to utilize every one of them.

  His instrument is glistening with my hot spit. It continues to bob up and down with a life of its own. It’s difficult for me not to finish what I started, but I feel there’s a better use for our time together. He proves to be an astute student of human nature when he summarily drops to his knees with his hands on mine.

  “You make me crazy. No other woman can compare to you. This is the real thing,” he emphasizes with his fingers inching ever closer to the juncture of my thighs.

  He opens me up, and my lips spread, revealing the slickness he’s created.

  I draw a deep breath when he traces my wet slit with the pad of his finger before inserting it one knuckle deep. My sigh of acceptance gives him more than ample incentive to continue plumbing my depths. My eyes close for a moment until I feel the long circular motion of his tongue. My clit throbs in response, and I fall back in a position to look at the ceiling fan above me.

  His tongue enters my wetness, and I can feel its wiggling presence touching off a series of gasps and moans. So this is what sex should be like. He’s no longer out for his own pleasure, but I’m going to give it to him in spades. His mouth is very talented, and he’s come to know how to strum my body like a musical instrument.

  “At the risk of sounding sappy, you are my wonderland,” he praises with his mouth wet with my juices.

  “You’re what I wanted without even knowing it. You complete me in a way that I didn’t know was possible. I tried to make you think this isn’t what I want, but I was lying to myself the entire time. I’ve made up my mind to give to you my body and soul freely and without reservation,” I say with my eyes staring into his until our connection is deeper than it ever has been.

  That slow buildup is interminable, but I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. My eyelids flutter, reacting to the way that he continues to dart his tongue in and out of my hot wet hole. My legs form a tight vice around his shoulders.

  I press my hand into the mattress and feel this overwhelming presence creeping up on me. It hits fast and without warning. My body thrashes and jumps into the air, but he denies me any kind of reprieve.

  The waves of orgasm grow until I’m flush with pleasure. It’s highly flammable, with the fire raging strong between my legs. He prolongs the sensation with his manhood striking while I’m still hot.

  The taste of him is still on my tongue and helps keep me in a high state of arousal.

  He plows forward with my legs in the air. His lips kiss my feet, and he sucks on my big toe while he delivers the full length of his equipment. He indulges with a long and simply awe-inspiring stroke until his balls are flush against me, and his body is covered with a thin sheen of glistening sweat.

  I trace my fingers down his torso while paying particular attention to his swimmer’s V shape. This man is a renegade with a bad boy mentality, including a heart of gold not many will witness in their lifetime.

  “You definitely know how to take me for a ride,” I stress with the heat of his tool rubbing against my walls.

  I’m guiding him with the slippery texture that he finds very pleasing.

  He pulls out still hard with his straight ramrod appendage holding me hostage with the eye of the storm dripping incessantly. The stimulation of his shaft touching my clit on every stroke brings me to boiling point and on the verge of screaming his name.

  I find myself arranged on all fours with my head in the pillow while he takes me from behind, holding onto my hips. The slapping sound of our bodies is an aphrodisiac I can’t seem to get enough of. His moans echo in my ears, and his hot breath tickles the back of my neck. Finally, his hand finds my little friend and nails my orgasm.

  I collapse with him on top of me, continuing to pound into me.

  “I’ve never met a more responsive woman in my life. We’ve only just begun our journey together. This is just the first step. This world is out oyster. Our passion has no bounds,” he states emphatically in a hot and passionate whisper.

  I can’t seem to say anything when I scream out with unrestrained lust. My body convulses, and I twitch uncontrollably until I’m bearing down on his firm insistence.

  I can feel him releasing his pent-up frustration with wild stabs to the heart of me. I squeeze down with rhythmic pulses up and down his length. He’s right there with me. It’s a photo finish worthy of our sweaty bodies sticking together as one.

  When it’s finally over, we cuddle up next to each other unable to keep our hands idle.

  I can hear him breathing. I sigh and tighten my grip around him.

  The End?

  Extended Epilogue

  Eager to learn what the future holds Valeria and Caspian?

  Then you may enjoy this extended epilogue.

  Simply tap here and you can read it for FREE, or use this link:

  https://www.fayepierce.com/q1wd

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading my novel, Hard Knight. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, could you please be so kind to write a review HERE?

  It is very important for me to read your thoughts about my book, in order to get better at writing.

  Please use the link below:

  https://www.fayepierce.com/ma7m

  Do you want more Romance?

  If you’re a true fan of the Regency Romance genre, here is a s
ample of my best friend’s, Lorena Owen, latest best-selling novel: The Duke’s Scandalous Bluestocking

  How can a bluestocking grab the attention of the most rakish of dukes? Certainly in a dinner party full of debutantes she should have been his last choice. Yet, she is the single one to grab his attention-and the single one that makes fun of his eccentric ways. Maybe this bluestocking is more scandalous than you can think…

  The Duke’s Scandalous Bluestocking

  Chapter One

  “Perhaps it is our imperfections that make us so perfect for one another…”

  Alice's slender fingers grazed over the paper, her eyes taking in each word. Her heart swelled with longing during the most romantic bits; she’d read this particular book so many times she had it nearly memorized. She reclined on the soft sofa in the drawing room, getting comfier for her favorite part of the story—the big romantic finish.

  In the end, even meddlesome Emma found her match, her "perfect happiness."

  Alice let her mind conjure up the heroine and her love, picturing them in their bliss. She wondered what being loved like that would feel like. She had just gotten to her favorite part of Emma when reality tugged back at her skirts again. She let out a wistful sigh, trying without success to put away the thoughts that pulled at her so.

  Surely it wouldn't be the end of the world if she didn't secure a husband this year.

  Would it?

  Two seasons had come and gone, and Alice still sat unwed in the Egerton home. It certainly wasn't for lack of trying on her part. She had bumbled through her first season, awkward and ungraceful both in conversation and on the dance floor. Her father insisted that discussions of her passion for reading should be kept to a bare minimum, but it was all she knew.

  "Sir Walter Scott and Jane Austen are not proper topics for courting conversation," her father scolded her. "Why don't you talk about your love for piano, or perhaps your singing?"

  But Alice knew the truth. She was capable at the piano at best, and her singing voice fell flat. There was no point in bringing up meager skills that would impress no one. She considered her well-read mind to be her best quality, and had initially been excited to perhaps find a husband to discuss literature with, but no suitors had come to call.

  Why couldn't anyone else see that a bluestocking was just as marriageable as a lady with considerable drawing skill or a beautiful singing voice?

  Her first season, Alice felt as though she’d been getting on quite well with several gentlemen, but none of them had offered a proposal. In fact, none of them had even taken the time to court her at all. The memories of her sitting in the drawing room for hours, pretending that she wasn't waiting for callers, still stung.

  The second season had gone by much the same, with Alice sitting out dance after dance until the season had passed by entirely. She had attempted to catch the eye of a few suitors at first, hoping beyond hope that one might prize her well-versed mind.

  But again, she was unsuccessful.

  Her third season would be her final chance before she was deemed a failure. Though she was certainly beginning to feel that way already.

  "You mustn't give up, Alice," her sister, Nancy, had said, ever confident in her. "Surely there is a suitor out there that will want to hear you speak your opinions on your books for hours and hours."

  Alice, for her part, was beginning to feel that her failures on the marriage market had less to do with her reading habits and more to do with her looks. She took a glance in the looking glass across from the settee she reclined on.

  Still the same boring Alice.

  Her brown hair hung about her shoulders, limp and long. Maria, her maid, had done all she could do to fluff it up, trying her best to get the brown locks to frame her face. It had done little good, but the sparse curls she had managed to achieve at least brought out the blue in her eyes a tiny bit more.

  Alice thought it did, at least.

  She sighed, determined to get back to her book and stop her self-deprecating thoughts, when suddenly the drawing room doors flung open. Nancy tumbled in, toppling over her own two feet, startling the life from Alice.

  "Nancy!" cried Alice as she jumped from her seat. "Whatever is the matter? Is everything alright?"

  Alice bent to help her sister to her feet. It wasn’t like Nancy to lose her grace and balance, and the shock of seeing her sister tumbling into the drawing room had her heart beating fast.

  "Better than alright, sister!" the younger girl crowed, brushing the skirts of her pastel pink dress. “I feel as though I could fly, though present circumstances may prove otherwise. Here, look at what I’ve received!” Nancy clutched a sheet of parchment paper that looked to be a letter to her chest.

  "All of that bluster over a simple letter?" Alice asked. "You’re acting quite unlike yourself.”

  "But that's the exciting bit, sister!" Nancy exclaimed. "It's not a simple letter. It's a letter from the Duke of Bedford!"

  Nancy dissolved into delighted, girlish giggles. She held the letter high, handing it to Alice, who took it delicately.

  She scanned it once and then once again, unsure if she read the words correctly. She couldn't have; either that, or this duke had to be mad.

  "Dear Lady Nancy Egerton," the letter read. "I, the Duke of Bedford, am pleased to announce the arrival of my aunt, the esteemed Lady Harrelson, to town. Celebrations are in order for such a momentous visitation, to welcome Lady Harrelson properly. I would like to welcome you, as well, to my estate to participate in an intimate, secret dinner..."

  That couldn't be right.

  "Nancy, are you quite sure this is from the Duke of Bedford?" she asked. "This states that you're invited to his—"

  "To his estate!" Nancy finished for her. "Isn't it simply divine?"

  "It would be, were this a real letter," Alice said. "But it simply can't be. This is a terrible hoax to play on a young debutante, but don't worry, sister. I shall get to the bottom of this."

  "Oh, but it isn't a hoax," Nancy said. The hopeful, overjoyed smile still hadn't fled her pretty young face. "Look, here! The duke's official seal! Oh, Alice, isn't this the most wonderful news?"

  "I'm afraid I still don't understand," Alice said, scrunching her brows together as she read the letter over once more. "A secret dinner?"

  "Yes," Nancy said. "That's correct. It's to be held tonight at the duke's manor. Oh, whatever shall I wear? The trouble will be staying out of Mrs. Wellington's sight, let alone getting around Father. Do you think that I should wear my hair up in a chignon or down around my shoulders? There are so many things to decide! I do wish he'd have sent that letter a little sooner, but I suppose that's a part of the game itself."

  "What game?" Alice cried, fully confused.

  Nancy looked guilty for a moment, as though she'd said the wrong thing, but then sighed.

  "The Duke of Bedford is searching for his duchess," Nancy said. "Finally, he's ready to wed. And he's chosen me as one of his potential brides!"

  "What do you mean 'one of?’" asked Alice. She was growing ever more suspicious of this duke.

  What could his intentions be for her sister? And how had he taken notice of her?

  "He's sent a copy of this same letter out to some other young ladies of the ton," Nancy said. "Debutantes, all of them. Or at least, that is what I’ve come to believe. Mary received one, and she’s only just starting her first season as well. Oh, how exciting to have been selected from so many young ladies! The letter is so mysterious, though. The Duke of Bedford will only wed when he finds his perfect bride, and he wishes her to have certain...qualities."

  "I'm quite sure he does," muttered Alice.

  "Anyway," Nancy continued. "He doesn't state what those qualities are, but he thinks that I may possess them! Clearly, he must, or he wouldn't have sent the letter. Oh, Alice, don't you see what this means? Perhaps this is where I find my perfect match! The Duke of Bedford is said to be of incomparable handsomeness. Like a painting of a Greek God, the scand
al sheets say, with his black hair and dark eyes. Not to mention his title and wealth! Alice, can you imagine? The whole family could benefit, and you especially. Perhaps you would no longer be pressured into marriage."

  But Nancy didn't quite understand.

  The trouble wasn't that Alice didn't want to marry. She craved that same love she read about in her stories, that she'd seen shared by so many young and old couples alike. Even an arranged marriage held the potential to gift her that special connection.

  Alice, though, was too plain to attract suitors, even just one.