Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale) (20 page)

Love was making him fucking cheesy, he thought, unable to keep himself from grinning as he unscrewed the bottle cap and took a long sip. He placed the container on top of his bureau and unbuttoned his pants, easing them over the boner in his boxer-briefs and shucking them onto the floor. His underwear came next, his cock springing back onto his stomach as he pulled the fabric away. Tugging his T-shirt over his head and throwing it on the floor, he entered his bathroom and turned on the shower.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him in the car, using those corny fucking lines from
TLOC
, but they’d just sort of slipped from his lips as he gazed at her, wanting to reassure her that everything they felt for each other was true, was real, could be lasting, if they just believed in it and gave it a chance.

Soaping his hands, he ran them over his pecs and abs, muscles he’d worked hard to build and maintain. Standing in the stream of water, he washed the soap off and lathered his hands again. This time he stroked his cock, remembering the way he’d kissed her in the car and quickly spending himself on the shower wall with a grunt of satisfaction. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and shampooed his long hair, then rinsed it until the water ran clear. Finally he soaped his hands again and ran them over his face, using his fingers to trace his stubbly jaw, his thin lips, crooked nose, and deep-set eyes, wondering what the hell she saw in him. Colt had no illusions about his beauty—he was masculine and his body was built, yes, but he was far from handsome. And Verity Gwynn, delicate goddess, girl of his dreams, and his sweet sunshine, had chosen him.

Be gentle tonight,
he thought, his cock twitching with eagerness.

His desire for her was almost overwhelming. Coupled with his deep feelings of affection for her, his longing to be inside her—literally buried to the hilt—was an almost barbaric impulse. He’d need to keep reminding himself to go slow tonight, to watch her face for pain, all the while hoping to see pleasure. He’d need to be able to stop on a dime if she asked him to.

He tilted his face up to the jet of water and rinsed, shaking out his hair like a wet dog and turning off the water. He still needed to shave and get dressed, and he was fairly certain that Ryan would be asleep early tonight, so she could suddenly appear in his doorway at any time.

Grabbing a towel from on top of the toilet, he dried his body quickly, tied it around his waist, then ran hot water at the sink and lathered his cheeks and chin with shaving cream. He used a razor for a clean, close shave, then wiped off his face and headed into his room. Although he hoped to spend most of tonight unclothed, he didn’t think it would go over too well to be waiting on his bed, buck naked, with his cock standing at attention, so he pulled on his favorite pair of soft, ripped, beat-up jeans. After taking a long look at his T-shirts, he closed the drawer. Over the past few weeks he’d learned how much she loved touching his chest, running her fingers over the ripples of muscles, her eyes sometimes stuck on the defined V shape of muscle on his hips that led to his cock. He grinned wickedly. All’s fair . . .

He picked up his clothes from the floor and threw them in the laundry basket, then hastily remade his bed. Disappointed to see that it was only six forty, he sat down, impatient for her to come to him, and turned on the TV.

***

Verity tucked Ryan into his bed a little after seven, kissed his forehead, and told him that she loved him, just as she did every night.

“Ry,” she said, still sitting beside him, “I’m not sleeping up here tonight.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“I’m going to sleep in Colton’s room.”

“And tomorrow you’ll be back in Melody’s room?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“But what if I need you?”

Verity’s mind whisked to Melody, living semi-independently. Perhaps she could expect more from Ryan. Perhaps he’d rise to the challenge if she did. “Then you’ll have to come downstairs, knock on Colton’s bedroom door, and wait for me or Colton to answer.”

“Oh,” he said, looking up at her for a long moment before nodding. “Okay.”

She brushed the hair off his forehead. “I love him, Ry.”

“Yeah. Colton’s our friend.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Colton loves Ver’ty.”

“Yes,” she said, tears filling her eyes because Ryan understood so little of the world, but he understood love. “He does.”

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed. “G’night, Ver’ty.”

“Good night, handsome.”

She pulled his door almost closed and made sure the night light was on before slipping into Melody’s room. She’d already showered and re-dressed, in her cutoff shorts and a simple powder-pink tank top, purposely skipping panties and bra. But now she wondered if she should put them on. Opening up the drawer that held her underwear, she pulled out a simple pair of white cotton panties and a matching bra and stared at them as bees swarmed her belly.

Letting the lingerie fall from her fingers, she turned away from the bureau and flicked off the light in her room as she headed downstairs.

***

After channel surfing for fifteen minutes, Colt finally settled on an older movie called
Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes
, more for the soothing score than anything else. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Colt watched a very young Christopher Lambert swing through the jungle on vines and reach for Andie MacDowell’s face reverently, touching her snow-white cheek like she couldn’t possibly be real.

“What are you watching?”

Verity stood in the doorway of his room, her sexy fucking cutoffs making her tan legs look longer than they were, in a tank top that made it clear that she was wearing nothing underneath. His mouth watered, and he smiled at her reflexively.

“Sunshine.”

“Is that the name of it?” she asked, grinning back at him as she stepped into his room and closed the door behind her.

“No,” he said, standing up. “That’s
your
name.”

“My name is truth,” she answered, still closing the distance between them, her gaze dropping hungrily to his bare chest and lingering for a long moment before meeting his. Her eyes were indigo. He imagined his own were black.

He grabbed the remote, intending to turn off the TV, but only muted it instead.

“So tell me something true,” he said, his voice low and husky, blood rushing to his cock as she slowly approached him.

She stopped about a foot away and tilted her head to the side.

“I love you.”

He took a step toward her, watching her chest rise and fall rapidly in his peripheral vision, though he kept his eyes fixed steadily on hers.

“I love you too.”

She leaped into his arms, and he caught her around the waist, pulling her up and against his body. She locked her ankles around his hips as his mouth greedily sought hers, his tongue slipping between her lips and meeting hers with a groan of relief.

Plunging her hands into his still-damp hair, she whimpered into his mouth, and he backed up, sitting down on the bed so that his fingers could skate down to the edge of her tank top and urge it up her chest. His fingers slid up her flat stomach, gently caressing her breasts as he bunched up the shirt at her throat.

Breaking off their kiss, she leaned away and held her arms over her head so Colt could push the pink cotton slowly over her head and up her arms, letting it fall to the floor behind her. His eyes dropped to her naked breasts for just a moment before tightening his arms around her so that her hardened nipples were gently crushed against the wall of muscle that was his chest. She gasped at the sensation, grabbing his face and demanding his lips, arching her back so that her breasts rubbed against him.

Slow down
, his mind warned as his cock grew in length and thickness, every heartbeat making it twitch and swell behind the zipper of his jeans. She was so small in his arms, and though he knew she would be able to take him if she was prepared, it would hurt if she wasn’t ready for him. Leaning his head down, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, loving the way her fingers tangled in his hair as she released a held breath on a low
ahhhhh
sound. He licked her, sucking on the rigid bud until she cried out, then wet his lips with his tongue, sliding to her other breast and grazing the nipple lightly with his teeth before clamping down on her erect flesh with his lips as his tongue flicked back and forth over the straining bud.

“Colton . . .,” she murmured, her head thrown back and her fingers clawlike against his skull.

“What, baby?”

She moaned, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth before letting it go, her eyes drugged and black when she opened them. “Take off your jeans. I want to feel you pressed against me.”

Her words were like a shot of adrenaline to his fucking groin, and he flinched as her fingers traced the line of skin at his waistband, pausing at the button of his jeans.

“Verity, look at me.”

She looked up and focused on him as her fingers unfastened the metal button in the tight space between them.

“Hi,” she said.

He was turned-on as hell, his body a hard, straining mess of muscle and fierce, hot want, but her sweet guileless “Hi” made him grin at her like a dummy  . . . and all he could say back was, “Hi.”

Running his fingers from her temples through her hair, he tucked both sides behind her ears, then cradled her face tenderly. “I want you so bad, it feels like I might die if I can’t have you tonight.”

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m yours. No dying.”

“I’m not done . . . Even though it feels like that, you have to know: we stop when you say ‘stop.’ No matter what.”

“I’m not going to say ‘stop,’” she said, her fingers pulling down his zipper. She looked down between them, watching her hand disappear into his jeans, and his eyes fluttered as she fisted her fingers around his rigid flesh, pumping once . . . twice . . .

With a low roar of approval, he lay back on the bed to give her better access, his bare feet on the floor and Verity still perched on his knees. He closed his eyes as she slipped off his legs, and he lifted his hips as she tugged his jeans to the floor.

She placed one hand on the base of his cock, kneeling between his legs and taking him between her lips.

He bucked off the bed at the sensation of his head being bathed with her tongue, at half his length disappearing into the warm, wet heaven of her mouth. She sucked him deep, then let him slide slowly from her mouth before taking him deep again. And fuck, but he wanted to wind his fingers through her silky hair, but he didn’t know how she’d feel about that, so he curled his fingers into the comforter, trying to remember how to breathe.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Verity, my God . . .”

“God
dess
,” she corrected him, before swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock and licking the first drops of his pre-cum into her mouth.

Sitting up, he was greeted with the erotic fucking sight of Verity’s head in his lap—an image that he would hold on to with the last of his dying strength when he was a hundred years old—but if she continued, he’d come, and he didn’t want to come in her mouth the first time. He wanted for them to be fused together, making love, the first time he came. He wanted to feel her stretch and tighten, quivering around him with the same sense of completeness that he knew he would feel when she was finally his in every way.

Putting his hands under her arms, he lifted her up to a standing position and quickly unbuttoned her shorts, watching, entranced, as she wiggled her hips so that they pooled around her ankles.

“Lie down,” he said, his voice rough.

She nodded, sitting on the bed and lying back.

“Head on the pillows,” he said, staring deeply into her eyes, forcing himself to wait before taking in the sight of her naked pussy for the first time.

She scooted back, her eyes dark and serious. “Are you going to . . .”

“Love your pussy with my tongue until you come? Yeah.” He nodded, kneeling between her legs and lifting one over his shoulder so that she was completely exposed to him. “Unless . . .”

“Please,” she sighed, arching her back and closing her eyes as he dipped his head to the tight thatch of blonde curls at the apex of her thighs.

Staring down at her, he felt a surge of love, of protectiveness, of Neanderthal levels of possessiveness that made him light-headed and grateful, his slick cock hard as a rock, standing straight and tall against his abs. He ran his hand gently over her curls, leaning closer to breathe in the scent of her, swallowing greedily as his mouth watered. She was already wet from his attention to her breasts, and he spread her lips easily with his thumb and forefinger, dipping his head and letting his tongue taste her for the first time.

She cried out—half a whimper, half a moan—as he licked her in long, sensual strokes, his hand holding her leg in place over his shoulder, the fingers of his other hand keeping her exposed to him. Her hips tilted up to meet his mouth, and he lowered her leg to the bed, leaning down to suck on the hard nub of her clit as he slid two fingers inside her tight, wet sex. Liquid velvet clenched around his fingers as her hips moved rhythmically into him, her shoulders anchoring her body against the mattress, but the rest of her flexed upward for more, for him.