And that was just it, he’d given me so much. And I wasn’t talking phones, shoes and spas.

I was safe. I was spoiled. I was adored.

I was loved.

I couldn’t dictate how that came about.

Especially not to a man like Knight.

I heard and saw his shadowy frame walk into the bedroom and I watched, motionless, lying on my side in bed, my arms cocked, hands lying in front of me.

He moved around the bed to his side and even though my back was to him, I heard him disrobing, his expensive clothes falling to the floor.

The covers shifted, the bed moved but I didn’t.

Just like Knight, he didn’t waste time. He slid in behind me, one hand trailing down my arm to find mine, his fingers laced through and he pulled both our hands close to my chest as he pressed into my back.

I felt his body, his warmth and smelled his cologne.

I closed my eyes.

His lips came to my ear. “You find the right path?”

He knew I was awake.

I was right. He came home early worried about me. Where I was. With him.

I had to decide.

Right now.

Walk out of his world and never look back.

Or stay.

My mouth decided for me.

I opened my eyes and whispered, “Yes.”

His fingers tensed in mine and I listened to him draw in a deep breath, wondering what was next. What he’d do.

He let me go and rolled away.

I lay still.

“Up on your knees, Anya, facing me.”

I felt a heady curl between my legs.

I’d made the right decision. Call me crazy but, I was the woman for him just as I was and just as he was, Knight Sebring was the man for me.

Then I pushed up, the covers fell away and I turned, getting up on my knees, facing Knight.

“Closer, baby.”

I shifted closer.

“Lose the cami.”

My fingers went into my camisole. I lifted it up, pulled it off and tossed it aside.

His fingers trailed along the top of my thigh lightly then disappeared.

Through this and after, I trembled.

“Pull your shorts down and your panties.”

Another heady curl that whirled up to my belly.

I pulled my shorts and panties down to my thighs.

“Drop to a hip, baby, get rid of them then back on your knees.”

I fell to my hip, pulled my pajama shorts and panties free of my legs and tossed them aside. Then I regained my knees.

“Closer,” he whispered and I shifted close so my knees were against his side. “Anya,” his whisper had changed, slight rebuke, “you know what I like.”

For a second, I was confused.

Then I slid my knees out slightly wide.

I was rewarded as his hand slid up the inside of my thigh then started lightly playing between my legs.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured.

The curl started to become an ache.

He was silent as his fingers moved and played oh so light between my legs.

“Give Daddy more,” he muttered and my legs slid wider. I did good and I knew it when his thumb flicked hard against my cl*t and I gasped. “That’s good, baby.”

I noticed movement and watched as his hand went to his c**k and as he played with me, he idly stroked himself.

God, I loved to watch him do that.

I loved it but watching it, I wanted to do it. I wanted him in my mouth. I wanted him in me.

I whimpered.

His thumb again flicked my cl*t and my h*ps jerked.

“Whose world do you live in, Anya?” he asked so softly I barely heard.

“Your world.”

Another flick, oh God, God, it scored through me.

“Who owns you, baby?”

“You do.”

Another flick, my h*ps jerked again and I mew slid out of my throat.

Two of his fingers slid inside, deep, and I bit my lip.

“Who owns this cunt?” he whispered.

“You do.”

“Who does?”

“You do, Daddy.”

Another flick, another hip jerk, another mew.

God!

His fingers slid out and he went back to playing.

“Who possesses your beauty?”

“You do.”

“You’re right, Anya, I do.”

I waited for the flick and didn’t get it so I whimpered.

His hand went away and I whimpered again.

“Tonight, my baby feels greedy,” he muttered.

I was always greedy.

“Bend to me,” he ordered.

Instantly, I bent to him. Halfway down, his hand caught my hair.

“Stop.”

I stopped, his hand gathered my hair and twisted it then he put pressure on and my face was heading to his c**k that his hand was still stroking. He guided my mouth to it, my lips opened and I took the tip before his fist in my hair got tight.

“Just the tip, baby, hold onto Daddy’s c**k and roll me with your tongue.”

Yes, I wanted this. I wanted more but I’d take this.

My lips closed around tight and I rolled him with my tongue as he stroked. This was hot. I loved the taste of him, the silk of him on my tongue.

“Sweet cunt, sweet mouth, my sweet baby,” he whispered.

Then his hand went away and his h*ps surged up, filling my mouth with his cock.

Heat flooded me and I took him.

His hand in my hair gave me my cues, he wanted me to stroke and suck.

I did. Fast, hard, working it, loving it, listening to him groan, feeling his hand in my hair, wanting my hand between my legs, or his hand, but getting more excited because I couldn’t have either.

God, I could come just doing this.

His fist in my hair pulled me back and his voice growled, “On your back, knees up, legs spread, hands behind your knees opening you wide. Prepare to take me.”

I rolled, lifted, positioned and he was right there, c**k in his hand, guiding it in, his other hand in the bed beside me, arm straight.

He drove into me.

My neck arched, my back left the bed, my own hands jerked my legs even wider. Nothing better.

Nothing better than being connected to Knight.

“Eyes,” he grunted, driving fast, deep, brutal, f**king me raw. My chin tipped down and my eyes went to him. “You can touch me.”

Immediately, my hands went from behind my knees to him.

He dropped his forearms to the bed beside me, giving me some of his weight, still thrusting fast, hard, but my hands had more available to them so they moved over his skin, his muscle and they did this feverishly.