Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale) (21 page)

Her moans became louder, and she reached for his head, her fingers pulling his hair into a ponytail and pulling with every thrust of his fingers and tongue, her cries echoing off the walls of his bedroom until he touched her clit with his teeth and her hips jolted off the bed, her pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers that his cock throbbed with anticipation.

“Colton!” she screamed, almost ripping the hair from his head as she came. He slipped his fingers from her sex and slid his body up to cover hers, skin to skin, his mouth loving hers as thoroughly as he’d just loved her clit. He could still taste her on his tongue as he pillaged her mouth, forcing her to kiss him through her orgasm and reveling in the feeling of her body bucking up against his as she rode out her climax.

Finally she stilled beneath him, her eyes still closed, her chest rising and falling against his, her heart fluttering against his chest like a caged bird. He braced his weight on his elbows and said her name softly, waiting for her to open her eyes.

When she did, they were hazy and deep, the midnight blue of the night sky, her fair lashes framing dreamy orbs as they looked up at him in wonder.

“I’ve never . . . I mean, that was my first time . . .”

A blush covered her cheeks, and it was so fucking cute, considering the fact that he’d just been knuckle deep in her pussy.

He grinned at her, gently pushing the hair from her forehead and staring deeply into her eyes as her words registered. “I was the first?”

She nodded shyly, blinking at him before smiling back. “Uh-huh.”

“How’d I do?”

“You need to ask?”

He raised his eyebrows. Yeah, he wanted to hear the words.

“You’re a Viking god,” she said, sighing as she reached for his cheek. “And I’m the luckiest merchant in the kingdom.” His cock jumped against her thigh as she spoke the words, and she blinked at him, then giggled softly. “I want you, Colton. I want all of you.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. “I haven’t been with anyone . . . for a while. Are you on the pill?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t been with anyone for a while either.”

Reaching for his nightstand, he opened the top drawer and pulled out a condom, bringing it to his mouth and ripping open the foil. Kneeling and leaning back on his haunches, he stared down at her as he held the base of his cock and rolled the latex over his straining erection.

Verity sat up, her breasts flushed, her body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and Colton put his hands under her arms, lifting her onto his lap. His sex stood straight between them, sandwiched between her belly and his.

“I love you,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, unable to look away from her beautiful face, profoundly grateful that she had seen beyond his gruffness, to his heart, which had quickly found a new rhythm in hers.

Bracing her feet on either side of his hips, she stared into his eyes as she lifted herself up, hovered over the head of his cock for a moment, then eased her body down, letting him claim her sex just as certainly as she’d claimed his heart.

***

Verity gasped as the thick head of his penis slipped beyond the outer lips of her sex, pressing forward and up. Colton stayed still, letting her set the speed and depth of penetration, but she didn’t want to go slow. She placed her hands on his shoulders, allowing gravity to do its work, and, to her amazement—though surely because of the way he’d prepared her for him—they fit together tightly, but perfectly. She felt every ridge of his erection, the throb of every heartbeat against the walls of her sex, the white heat of him as he stretched her in a way that felt so good, she couldn’t keep her cries of pleasure inside, so she let them go as her eyes rolled back in her head.

Maintaining their contact but adjusting their position, Colton sat down on the bed, spreading his legs out in front of him and cupping Verity’s ass while she pressed her body against his, her breasts flush against his chest, her arms around his neck.

He lifted her gently, then let her slide down again, stretching her a little more each time, panting with shallow breaths, soft and warm on the base of her neck. Her breasts rasped against his chest with every movement, the tips hard and sensitive, adding to her pleasure. Again he lifted her, and again she sank down onto his full length, but this time he lifted his hips to meet her with a gentle thrust, and she whimpered because it felt so fucking right.

“More,” she whispered, arching against him, her breath coming in short pants as he lifted her again and thrust a little harder, up into her body, claiming her with his length and girth, filling her until there was no room for anyone or anything in the world but Colton and Verity and their brand-new love for each other. Her arms clutched him tighter, her fingers curled into his skin. “More. Please, more.”

He continued to move inside her with long strokes, faster and deeper, until her muscles started tightening, a delicious swirling that began in her belly and made her weightless in his arms, every sensation concentrated between her legs, where he owned her, where she owned him, where they were one.

“It’s so good,” he groaned. “It’s so fucking good, baby.”

“Harder, Colton. More. Please. I’m so close . . .”

Still deep inside her, he adjusted their position again, laying her back on the bed and hovering above her as she bent her knees to cradle his hips.

“I love you, Verity. I was nothing without you, baby. I’ll love you . . . I’ll love you until I die.”

He thrust into her powerfully, his sex slamming into her G-spot, and she arched up against him, stars bursting behind her eyes, as she cried out his name and climaxed for the second time. His lips slammed down on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth just before his body froze, hard yet trembling, before he bellowed her name and emptied himself into the condom.

His body collapsed onto hers, but he flipped them quickly to their sides so that he wouldn’t crush her, holding her tightly in his arms. As he twitched and shuddered, his sex throbbing in waves inside her, she reached for his head and held it against her breasts, whispering that she would love him until the end of time.

Hours later Colt held a sleeping Verity against his body, her head nestled under his chin, her breasts soft and supple against his chest, her legs entwined with his. His arm was around her waist, keeping her close.

In all his life, he’d only known familial love: the love he’d had for his mother and even for his father—angry, abusive bastard that he was—and yes, the love he’d had for Aunt Jane and Uncle Herman and for Melody.

But now he knew a love so different from any he’d known before. It was new and young, but it was as much a part of him as anything else that defined him, and for as long as he lived, he would know—certainly, without reserve—what it meant to be
in love
with another human being, what it meant to want her, to need her,
that one person
, above any other human being in the world. And if he was truly honest, it scared him a little because he had so much more to lose now. The idea of anything bad happening to her was so fucking terrifying, it made his breath catch.

Without a doubt, living and working together had accelerated their feelings for each other, but that didn’t make them any less solid or true, and in fact, he felt even more protective of them. Colt knew what it felt like to live his life without her, and he had no desire to go back to that life. He’d gone from a quiet, taciturn, somewhat aimless existence, taking care of his late aunt’s house and daughter, having occasional, meaningless sex, and working a job he didn’t love . . . to feeling alive, hopeful, and loved. For the first time since losing Aunt Jane, he could glimpse his future, and it included a loving, sexy, beautiful girlfriend who understood his responsibility to Melody. Maybe he’d quit his job and go back to school to become a personal trainer. Suddenly
anything
felt possible! He felt like a new person who could have a whole new life, and it would be full and happy because Verity would be by his side.

But Colt wasn’t a child. By and large, he was a realist, and he knew that people didn’t just change overnight. There was a big fucking fly in the ointment of his life: his temper.

If he wasn’t careful, he could end up like his father—yelling, hitting, scaring the people he loved most because of his fast and furious temper. He needed to stay on top of it, stay in control of it, stay away from situations that could inflame it and lead to decisions that would take Verity away from him or him away from Verity.

She took a deep breath in her sleep and nestled closer to him, sighing against his chest, and his heart thrummed with love for her so wild and so fierce, he clenched his jaw from the force of it.

He loved her like crazy.

But his love for her scared him to death.

Because part of him wondered if it was just a matter of time until he fucked up again and lost her.

***

Verity hadn’t gotten much sleep, so she was sleepwalking through work a little bit on Wednesday. But when she wasn’t using toothpicks to keep her eyes open, she was reliving every moment of last night with Colton, and sighing as she daydreamed about every night yet to come.

He had been a tender and careful lover, touching her body with such reverence, it made her heart clutch to remember. When he’d said, “I was nothing without you, baby,” how the words had made sense for her too. She’d been so alone, taking care of Ryan, with no plan for her future but to make enough money for a roof and some food. And now? Now she had a home, a man who loved her, a job she liked—

“Hey! Are you working today or what?”

Sort of
liked.

Beverly stood across the counter from Verity, scowling, her fists on her beefy hips, the princess gown she was forced to wear straining unattractively at the seams.

“Uh . . . yeah.” Verity straightened up from where she was leaning on the counter and pulled another plastic sword from the box at her feet. She used the price gun to mark the hilt with a sticker, then handed the sword to Beverly.

“How about double-timing it? It’s five. Dinner show starts in an hour.”

Verity nodded, taking two more swords out of the box and pricing them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daphne and Marty walk into the main hall, whispering and giggling as they headed over to the gift shop.

“Hey, Verity,” said Daphne. “Feeling better?”

Verity looked up at the waitress, whose breasts were practically spilling out of her serving wench uniform, and nodded. “Must have been a twenty-four-hour thing.”

Marty grinned at her, but it wasn’t an altogether friendly grin, and Verity looked away from her to reach down for another two swords. “Can I help you girls?”

“We were just wondering if you’d heard the news?” asked Daphne, her big green eyes wide and purposely innocent.

“The news?”

Verity handed the four swords to Beverly, who huffed at the three girls with annoyance, giving Verity a look that told her to get back to work and stop socializing. She took the last handful of five swords out of the box and looked up at Daphne again, raising her eyebrows in question.

“She wasn’t here yesterday. She was sick,” said Marty. “That’s how come she doesn’t know.”

“Ohhhh. Riiiiight,” said Daphne, nodding at her friend.

Verity pursed her lips and priced the five swords, then leaned down and grabbed the box, getting ready to take it to the back room and grab a full one. “Well?”

“Do you want to do the honors?” asked Marty.

“Sure.” Daphne’s lips spread into a huge grin. “We got a new waitress. She started yesterday.”

Is that all?
Verity sighed, moving down the aisle between the sales counter and back wall, finished with Daphne’s and Marty’s shenanigans. She didn’t have time for games that led nowhere. “Great. Welcome aboard.”

“Don’t you want to know her name?” called Marty.

Verity turned around, narrowing her eyes. Marty’s tone had suddenly gotten meaner.

“Sandy,” said Daphne slowly, scanning Verity’s face for recognition and clearly relishing her big reveal. “Sandy Rucker.”

“Heard of her?” purred Marty.

Verity’s first thought was that she’d had no idea
Sandy
’s last name was Rucker. Her second thought didn’t have time to materialize before Beverly bellowed, “Enough chitchat! Go get those Viking hats before I tell Lynette to dock your damned pay!”

Daphne snickered, waving her fingers at Verity as she turned back toward the arena, taking Marty’s arm to pull her along. “Take care, now.”

Verity blinked at them, then turned to Beverly, a sudden fury she didn’t anticipate making her words harsher than she would have planned. “I am
not
your slave, and you are
not
my mistress! Stop barking at me!”

Beverly turned on her heel, staring daggers at Verity. “I’m your supervisor.”

“You’re the
gift shop
manager. I report to Lynette, just like everyone else.”

Approaching Verity with menace, Beverly scowled at her, stopping about three inches from her person. She stood in front of Verity, and despite an inclination to turn and run away, Verity lifted her chin and stared back.

“Fine,” growled Beverly. “Go get the helmets,
coworker
.”

“Fine,” Verity muttered, turning away and heading for the stockroom, sick to her stomach that Colton’s ex-girlfriend was back, and wondering what it meant for the very new relationship between them.

She pushed open the door to the employee hallway, staring at her feet, trying to remember everything that Colton had ever told her about Sandy.
It wasn’t serious, and it didn’t last long . . . She took another job in Vegas.
He certainly hadn’t gone on about her. Then again, she’d learned from the girls in the bathroom a few weeks ago that Sandy had bragged that he was “hung like King Kong.” Her heart twisted as she imagined Colton doing the same things with this Sandy as he’d done with her last night. He’d definitely slept with her, or how else would she have known about his . . . his . . .

Tears burned behind her eyes. Had he
loved
Sandy? Had he only stopped loving her because she moved away, and he had to stay in Atlanta to be close to Melody? Would he want to be with Sandy again now that she’d returned? By the time Verity got to the stockroom, her worries had gotten the better of her, and she was grateful to slip inside the small room for a short cry.

It would be just her luck to finally meet someone who understood about Ryan, who didn’t see her as a train wreck or a burden, who seemed to love her for exactly who she was . . . and then lose him to the woman he’d loved before her.

“Oh God,” she sighed, pressing her palm against her aching heart as she stood with her back against the stockroom door. “Please help. I can’t lose him. I can’t.”

Did Colton know that Sandy was back? By now he had to. And yet he hadn’t come to see her, to talk to her about it. What did
that
mean? Was he talking to Sandy now? Letting her touch him? Telling her about the brother and sister he’d have to get rid of before they could be together again? Verity’s heart bled at the thought, but her imagination was already churning. She had to see him. She had to look in his eyes to know that they were going to be okay . . . or not.

She worried her bottom lip, thinking about Beverly waiting for the Viking helmets.

Well, she can just get them her damned self
, thought Verity, pushing open the stockroom door and letting it slam behind her as she beelined for the stables.

***

Colt ran his forearm over his drenched brow, looking back and forth between Shawn and Sebastian, who were also taking a break. All three men had taken off their shirts an hour ago, and they all glistened with sweat. They’d been at it for hours now, choreographing a new scene where the Viking, Gaelic, and Renaissance Knights fight to the death, but Morgan still wasn’t satisfied with the routine.

“Shawn,” said the production designer, Morgan, looking at her notes, “what if you headlocked Sebastian from behind and pushed him into Colton? That would give you ten seconds to grab the mace while Colton’s squire offered him a sword.”

Shawn looked doubtfully at Sebastian, who was a head taller than he. “Uh, not sure that would work.”

Morgan’s lips twitched with annoyance. “Okay. Colt, you headlock Sebastian. Shawn, you do a back roll and grab your sword.”

Colt shook his head. “He lost his sword three minutes ago to me.”

“Ahhh, fuck,” said Morgan, looking up at the blaring late afternoon sun, which baked the equine practice ring. “Take ten, okay? Let me work this out. You guys get some water.”

All three muttered their assent, and Colt headed toward the stable that housed Thor, where Joe kept a small fridge of bottled water. The dim light made him blink as his boots scuffed over the straw on the cement floor. He didn’t see her at first, but suddenly there she was in front of him.

Sandy Rucker.

After two years away.

“Colt, you fuckin’ stallion,” she purred, stepping out of the shadows.

“Sandy?” he said, squinting at her. “What are you . . . you’re back?”

“Mm-hm,” she said, stepping toward him. “My sister’s husband is sick so I’m helpin’ out for a month or two. Got my old job back. Glad to see me?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning her body reflexively. One thing was certain: Sandy had always been hot. At five nine and wearing three-inch heels, she looked him almost in the eyes, the emerald orbs popping from her creamy-white skin like gemstones. Her lips were as full and red as they’d been two years ago, and Colt had a sudden flashback to them clamped around his cock and inhaled sharply, meeting her eyes.

What had she asked him? Fuck. He couldn’t remember.

She chuckled, a low throaty laugh that told him she hadn’t given up smoking since moving away. “Go ahead and look. I like it.”

He took a step back, frowning at her. “I’m with someone now.”

“Ohhh.” Her eyes widened innocently. “You don’t say.”

“Yeah.”

“Not the titless little blonde in the gift shop?”

“You already know,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, thrusting her size-D chest his way as she pushed her breasts up and over her corset until he could see the edge of the dark pink flesh that circled her nipple. “We had a good thing, lover.”

“We had a shallow thing, Sandy.”

“You want something . . . deeper?”

Her eyes dropped to his chest, tracing the lines and ripples of his naked muscles, and fuck, but the heat in her eyes made his cock jump without warning, and he hated himself for it because she fucking noticed.

“Oh, ho!” she said, laughing as her eyes slid slowly back up his chest to meet his scowl. “Maybe you liked shallow more than you remember. I know
I
liked shallow. A lot.”

“No, I . . . fuck this. I have to go,” he muttered, totally disgusted with himself, even though his reaction was physiological and had no bearing on his feelings for Sandy, which amounted to less than nothing.