Deviant Knights by Alexandra O'Hurley

like?”
    She couldn’t answer him.
    “No?   Perhaps I should stop?”   He
released her hands and began to slide off her body.
    “No!”   She
pulled him back into place.   “I like it.”
    “Where is the bold woman from our first
meeting?   She wasn’t afraid to ask for
what she needed.”
    “The woman you met had had too much
champagne.”   She lowered her lids, the
stress from their escape wearing on her deeply.   “And a lot has changed over the past few days.”
    “True enough.   But you should be able to tell me what you want.   What you like.   You need to find that daring woman inside
you, demand your right of passion.”
    He captured her lips with his own, a seeking
kiss, full of fire and yearning.   His
fingers encased her wrists once more and lifted them over her head with a
jerking motion.   The air was forced from
her lungs, need spiraling through her.   His mouth grazed over her, tasting the flesh of her cheek, her neck, her
collarbone.
    His free hand gathered a breast, weighing
it.   Fingers found the tightly peaked
nipple and twisted it harshly, the pain perfectly measured.  
    Sitting up, he released her.
    “No!   Don’t stop.”
    He leaned in to kiss her.   “I’m not.   I just need to have two hands free to properly caress the beauty you
have.”
    Leaning down, he pulled his belt from the loops
of his jeans lying on the floor.   He held
the leather in his hands and eyed her closely.   “Do you trust me?”
    The question of trust had been running through
their days and nights.   Both men held her
at arm’s length, unsure of her.   And now,
Gabriel wanted her to give him her trust.   Was this more that he still didn’t trust her, or was he only following
his instinct and her response?
    Of either man, Gabriel had been softer toward
her.   Michel had a wall erected that
coldness wafted from.   She hated Michel’s
indifference, especially when his body reacted to her.  
    She wanted to forget the cold look in his eyes
when Michel had called her his enemy.   The pain he’d given her in that moment had made her sick, her stomach
turning at his dislike.   He’d made her
feel insignificant in that moment, a coldness filling her to buffer the hateful
words. She didn’t want to feel cold.
    She wanted to be wanted.
    Gabriel was willing to make her forget it
all.   He’d still shown her compassion,
even when he questioned what she was.   Tonight, he had no idea if she were evil or not and he sought her touch.   He’d lovingly cared for her and put her in
bed, cuddled her and held her safe against the night.
      She knew
inherently that she could trust him.   No
matter the doubts, the warnings.   She
needed to show Gabriel what it meant to open up, without knowing for certain
the outcome.   Perhaps by pulling down her
barriers, he could relax and some of his would crumble.
    Nodding her head, she watched as he wound the
thin leather around her wrists and then tied her to the heavy oak of the
headboard.   Testing it, he pulled on the
tether, and then slowly slid his fingers down her arms before grasping both
sides of her face.
    His lips began to descend to hers.   Capturing her in his kiss, she felt her blood
spike.   Heartbeat thrashing in her ears,
she tugged at the bonds around her hands, wanting to touch him.   Needing to touch him.    Aroused at the binding, the submission to
his will.
    He saddled himself between her legs, pushing her
thighs wide to make room for his hips.   His hardened cock pressed against her sex.   Her hips jerked in response to the intimate touch.   The head slipped through her folds, already
wet and waiting for his entry.   She
thrust her hips forward, needing to feel the hot brand of his shaft inside
her.   Needing to feel
the hot brand of him, burning away the pain of the past few days.
    Ultimately, she knew his touches and caresses could
only hold back the hurt for mere moments.   It wasn’t real.   Another night of
illusion