Black Knight (Royal Elite #4) by Rina Kent

I peek up at him and pause at the expression on his face. He’s watching me with eyes so intense, it’s like he’s about to devour me whole and leave nothing in his wake.

“I’ll do that next time,” he says in a hoarse voice.

“No, that’s not –”

“I love your mind, Green. It’s so similar to mine.”

I bite the corner of my lip. “Really?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “Does that mean you fantasised about being mine?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe isn’t good enough. Try harder.”

I reach up and run my fingertips over his lips. “Maybe I wanted to come here, too. Maybe I watched you relaxing half-naked by the pool.”

“Someone is a stalker.”

“Shut up. You’re also a stalker. Both Ronan and Cole told me you watch me.”

“Snitching bastards.”

“Just admit it.”

“I have a better idea.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

“Did you know that the whole time you’ve been lying like this, you’ve been torturing me, Green?”

My cheeks redden, but I don’t attempt to move, not that I can.

“Or are you doing it on purpose?”

“I’m not.”

“Remove that sheet.”

“W-why?”

“Remember what I told you the other time? When I order, you…” he trails off, waiting for me.

My breathing catches and I take a few seconds to regulate it before I slowly peel the sheet off me. It glides against my hard nipples, creating tormenting friction.

“Now, place both your hands on my shoulders and lift yourself.”

The way he orders me gets me into a high alert mode. It’s a want so deep, I can barely contain it inside my body.

I want to scream it from the top of the roofs and shout it at the stars.

Even though my body trembles, I do as told, clutching his shoulder and staying suspended atop of him.

He strokes his cock and when I’m momentarily transfixed by the movement, I ignore my shaking limbs.

“Now, come down.”

“Xan…”

“Do. It.” His non-negotiable tone springs me to action and I slowly, too slowly lower myself onto his hard dick.

We groan together as his cock stretches me. My thighs shake the more I take him in.

“You feel so fucking good.”

I stop, breathing harshly and trying to fit him in.

“Go all the way, Green.”

“But you’re so big.”

“You said you liked being hurt.”

I nibble on my lower lip. “I do.”

“But you like it better when I do it?”

My eyes widen. How can he read me so fast?

I don’t have to say anything, though. He grabs me by the hips and brings me down in one merciless go. His balls slap against my arse with the force of it. I cry out, then squeal when he flips me so I’m lying underneath him.

Unlike earlier, I don’t have to tell him to go harder. He thrusts into me with the urgency of a desperate man.

Of someone who has nothing before him or after him.

The harder he pounds into me, the tighter I hold on to him.

I’m sore and it hurts slightly, but that’s the last thought on my mind right now.

Xander isn’t the only one who’s desperate. I am, too.

I’ve waited for him for so long, it almost feels unreal now, like maybe I’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream.

If it is a dream, then I have no interest in waking up.

I can be trapped here for eternity, thank you very much.

“You’re so beautiful, Green.” His eyes hold mine captive as his cock owns me. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane.”

I don’t know if it’s his words or his rhythm, but I come undone in a minute. The record time would be embarrassing if I had the clarity of mind to care about that.

Xander’s name is the only thing on my lips as I reach that peak, that place of freedom. There’s no fog here, no pain. Just a pure high.

“Say it again,” he grunts.

“What?”

“My name.”

“Xan.” I brush my lips against his. “I missed you, Xan.”

He groans as his back turns rigid and he joins me over the edge.

Xander brings my bandaged wrist to his mouth and kisses it so tenderly, it actually hurts.

Not physically, but emotionally. The fact that he sees it, that he saw it even when I refused to see it myself, makes me want to hide.

But I don’t hide, not from him.

He’s been the only one I could never hide from.

“I missed you, too, Green.”





31





Xander





Cole wasn’t wrong to call me a watcher.

I am. It’s not something I can resist.

My gaze follows Kim as she disappears into her house, a huge grin on her face.

Her flushed, reddened face that I haven’t gotten my fill of.

The face that will never leave my vicinity, even if she wants to.

Now that all those facts have come to light, I’ve passed the watcher state and gone into a different type of category.

Addiction.

There’s a difference between being obsessed and watching from afar and the inability to stop thinking about something.