Dear Madison,
You know how you said I should do something to get my husband’s attention. I did. Behold, it worked, but now I think he’s gone crazy.
As Madison would say, crazier than a sack full of raccoons.
We march down the hallway like we’re heading out to battle, the thud of Knight’s heavy boots and the click of my heels mingling with the excited chatter coming from groups of people gathering to see their favorite hockey players.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Knight look so enraged.
I thought he was going to kill Luc. If I’d known he was going to lose his shit the way he did, I would have done something else.
The signature thing just sort of happened out of the blue. I didn’t even go down to the locker rooms to get it. I went to find Knight.
The guard upstairs directed me down there because he was told that’s where Knight and Jericho were meeting Luc after the game. It was like getting a backstage pass, which I got with no problem because the guard recognized me from all the wedding publicity, the run up to it, and most of all, being the wife of one of the most popular men in New York.
I saw Knight in the hallway with Jericho straightaway when I went down.
Luc came out of the locker room at that moment to his host of admiring fans. I simply stopped to say hi because we briefly met at the wedding, and then I made a joke about getting his autograph next time as I didn’t have any paper. That’s how he ended up signing my leg.
It was supposed to be harmless fun, which seemed so at the time, but I totally realize now why it wouldn’t be. Especially since Luc’s name is inked on me in permanent ink. I almost feel that might have been on purpose. I saw the way Luc smirked at Jericho when they watched Knight trying to get it off me.
“Knight, slow down. I’m going to trip.” I was struggling to keep up with his pace as it was, but he speeds up as we walk out of the stadium.
“If you wanted to walk like a normal person, you shouldn’t have worn those things.” He glances at my heels with that permanent scowl riding his face.
“They’re called heels,” I scuff.
He flicks the collar of his leather jacket up, then looks away. “They look like weapons to me.”
“Then I should keep them far away from you. Isn’t Luc supposed to be your best friend?”
He glares at me. “You are my wife. He’s not supposed to have his hands all over you.”
“But his hands weren’t all over me.”
That glare of his intensifies, telling me that’s the wrong answer.
“Why are you here, Aurora?” He looks me up and down, taking in my not-like-me attire of short-shorts, sky-high heels, and a shirt I’ve tied up in the front with nothing but my bra underneath. It was all for him. This was supposed to be how I planned to get his attention, not that other thing.
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you tonight, and I needed to speak to you.”
“I was just on my way home.” He looks me over again.
“Like last night?” I can’t hide the sarcasm in my voice. It’s as plain as the anger oozing out of his pores. “This is the first time I’ve seen you since Saint-Tropez.”
He clenches his jaw. “We’ll finish this conversation at home.”
We take the corner, then we’re in the parking lot.
My jaw nearly hits the ground when we stop at a black motorcycle and he’s handing me the helmet that was hooked on the handle.
I stare at the helmet as if it might kill me if I touch it.
“What is this?” I switch my gaze back and forth between Knight and the motorcycle. “Where is your car? Or Ryan?” I search the area for one of his many Porsches or Ryan sitting in the front of the Maybach, but I find nothing.
“The car’s at home, and Ryan is wherever he is. He doesn’t drive me everywhere. This is my motorcycle and how we’re getting home.”
Oh my God. I should have stayed home. There’s no way I’m riding on that thing with him. Motorcycles have always terrified me. I don’t even like bicycles.
Once again, Knight Grayson has managed to shock the hell out of me. I would never imagine him riding around on a motorcycle, of all things. But look at him dressed in his leather biker jacket and black jeans—he looks like the guy who would. This is just like that day when I saw him working with the contractors at Sunset Cove.
“I’m walking or taking a taxi.” I press my lips together with open displeasure.
“Oh no, no, no. Don’t skip out on me now, Mon Cherie. I’m just getting started with you.”
I swallow hard. “What does that mean?”
“You think you’re going to get off easy for tonight? No. Now, get on the bike.”
“I don’t like motorcycles. They’re too fast. I’ve never ridden on one. I don’t know how.”
The corners of his lips lift into a wicked smile, and he moves in so close I expect him to kiss me. “You ride it the same way you ride me, by holding on tight. When you get tired, I’ll do the rest of the work, wife.”
My nerves slip at the erotic mental image of us consuming everything else in my mind.
His smile widens, and he pushes the helmet toward me again.
I take it and pray I survive this trip, let alone the night.
He gets on the motorcycle first and slips on a pair of Oakleys.
Taking a deep, deep breath, I put the helmet on. At least it smells like him, and somehow, the scent of woodland and musk gives me comfort.
Knight helps me get on the back of the motorcycle, and I mold myself to him like plaster on a wall, securing my arms around his waist, my fingers digging into the raw granite muscles beneath his jacket.
“Hold on to me,” he reminds me, as if I could forget.
At the roar of the engine, I’m already tightening my grip, then we take off and it feels like we’re going to fly up into the sky.
I close my eyes because everything is going by too fast and too quickly.
My heart is in my throat, pounding right up into my head.
Fear assails my nerves, and I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack, but then I begin to calm slowly, slowly, slowly as I focus on Knight’s scent and his hard body against mine when we cruise down the road.
The thrill of the speed seeps into me, and the trepidation I first felt slips away drop by drop. I even open my eyes from time to time so I can see what everything looks like when it seems like you’re going at warp speed.
I get lost in time until we slow down and turn onto a familiar road. It’s then I realize we’re nearly home. Another five minutes, and we are.
The gates swing open, and we’re rolling down the driveway, then we slow to a stop outside his garage—a place I’ve never been.
The automatic doors open like the entrance to the Batcave, and we drive into the large spacious garage filled with an assortment of cars and motorcycles.
At first view, I count ten cars and six motorcycles, and they’re all of the hundreds-of-thousands-dollar and above variety.
I assumed he had a lot of cars because I’ve seen him with at least three and the garage looked massive from the outside, but this is way more than I imagined.
I can’t believe I’ve lived in this house for almost two months and not known all these vehicles were inside here.
We park. Knight gets off the bike first, then helps me. I’m grateful he’s holding me because my legs give when I try to stand on my own.
“Steady?” The hint of a smile touches his face, but it’s brief.
“Yes.”
“Good. Come.”
“Where are we going now?”
He takes my hand and starts leading me in the opposite direction of where I thought we’d go—which was inside the house.
“I’m going to get that thing off you. I’m not fucking my wife with another man’s name written on her.”
My mouth falls open, and I glare at him, but he’s not looking back at me. Knight has his head held high, his jaw set, and his focus on the door ahead, which must lead to the back of the house.
I keep my gaze locked on him, but it hasn’t escaped me that the mention of fucking has stated his obvious intentions for me later. The anticipation of having him inside me again has me shamefully wet. I’m so wet I can feel the moisture beading between my thighs. My damn mouth is also watering, and my skin is flushing all over with the wild fire of need.
Damn me, and damn him too. I realize I want this man so badly he could walk me to the edge of the earth, and I’d still follow him just for one kiss.
It’s been too long since the last time I felt his lips on mine and even longer
since my body joined with his.
That last time, we made love on the beach just before we left our little paradise island. Now we’re here.
Knight opens the door and ushers me outside at the back of the house. I recognize this section very well after my countless walks to the beach.
Across from us is his workshop. That’s exactly where he leads me.
We go inside but approach the section in the back that houses another worktable. The sculptures of Giselle and the other figures are on the other side, so I can’t see them.
Good. For some reason, since being back in New York and knowing what happened to Giselle, the thought of looking at replicas of her twists my insides. I also don’t want to feel guilty for that pang of envy which hasn’t left me.
It’s there now, even though I can’t see her.
Knight walks me up to the table, then moves to the row of drawers next to us.
“What are you going to do to me?” I watch him rummaging through the drawers. “I’ve had permanent ink on me many times. It comes off in a few days. A week max. Can’t we just go to bed? It’s late.”
He cuts me a sharp glance. “You heard what I said before, Goddess. And like I said, you’re not going to get off that easy.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and like I said before,”—I borrow his tone—“I was looking for you.”
Another hard glance comes my way, but he focuses back on the drawers and grabs a bottle of some kind of solvent and a bag of cotton wool.
He makes his way back to me with it, opening the solvent and dabbing a swab of cotton wool onto the top.
He sets it on the floor then grabs my leg and begins wiping away Luc’s name. The ink fades and blurs out, becoming a dark smudge marring my skin until Knight wipes that away too.
“Good, it’s now gone.” He gazes up at me with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Lesson time.”
“Lesson time?”
He pushes to his feet, towering over me. “Yes, wife.”
My composure retreats like a losing army running for their lives as that darkness I’ve witnessed in him on several occasions returns.
He loops a finger around the back of my shorts and pulls down the zipper in front.
“Take this off for me. And your panties.”
“Knight—”
“Do it. But keep the heels on.” Dark heat pulses in his eyes, reaching out to me with invisible fingers.
I do as he says, rolling my shorts and panties down my legs.
“Good girl. Now bend over the table.”
My breath catches, but the deep sexual hunger stirring within me makes me obey that command too.
I watch him when he walks away again and grabs a mirror that was wedged between the cupboard and the wall.
He sets the mirror down so I can see myself, then he goes back and gets something that looks like a tattoo gun from one of the bottom drawers.
No, it doesn’t just look like a tattoo gun. It is one.
“Knight, what the hell are you doing?”
A heavy hand rests on the center of my back, holding me still, then he glides a finger over the slit of my wet opening, and I can see him smiling in the mirror.
“You’re wet again for me, Aurora.” He rubs my folds, silencing any further protests when he pushes his fingers into my pussy.
God, that feels so good. So, so damn good. And I’m like a hungry dog, salivating for his touch.
“If you want anything more from me tonight, you better keep still.” The deep, dusty murmur of his voice is laced with an edge of control.
I must have lost my mind somewhere in the ocean because here I am again, obeying at the promise of having more of him tonight.
Knight fills ink into the gun, and then he’s grabbing my ass cheek. All I hear next is a buzzing sound as he starts writing something onto my skin.
I keep my eyes on the mirror, but I can’t see what he’s writing/tattooing on me.
“You wanted to talk. How about we talk now?” he says after a few beats of silence. “Lesson number one, you never go to a hockey game dressed like that without me. Luc is my best friend, but he’s a dog.”
“And what are you? Aren’t you a dog too?”
“No, mon cherie. If I’m with you, I’m with you.” He runs his hand up my back and laces his hands through my hair so he can get a handful, then he lowers to the back of my head and makes a point of making sure I’m watching us in the mirror. “The moment you come on my dick without a condom, you’re mine.”
My breath stalls in my lungs at this realization.
“You’re mine, contract or not.” His voice dips low, and I feel it deep in my core, stroking me from the inside out. “You’re mine wife or not, you’re mine till death do us part, but since you call me Hades, I might just keep you in death, too.”
The buzzing of the gun continues, but his fingers on my skin are heated as his meaningful words in my ears awaken every cell in my body.
“Do you hear me, Aurora?” Gently, he tugs on my hair.
“Yes,” I breathe out.
“Lesson number two, mon cherie. If you want my attention, just call me. Don’t do this again to me, ever. I will kill for you.” He licks the lobe of my ear and guides my face to his.
I wait for his lips to press against mine, but they never come. He teases me with the expectation, smiles like the devil he is, and pulls back.
I look at him, taking in those words, but he shifts away, so I have to return my gaze to the mirror.
“Lesson number three: always tell me the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
“I never lied.” I speak to his reflection in the mirror.
“No, but you weren’t completely honest either.” He rubs over my ass and finds his way to my pussy. There he plays with me and lowers his mouth to lick from the start of my clit and suck on the hard nub until I’m moaning. “So, here’s that question again: why were you at the arena tonight?”
“I told you.” I pant when he increases his suckle and begins swirling his tongue around my clit. “I… went looking for you. To talk.”
He stops his suckle and strokes my back. “Talk about what?” A playful smile dances on his lips.
“Sunset Cove. I haven’t spoken to you about it for weeks. I want you to use my mother’s designs. I don’t think it’s fair to push me out. It’s important to me, and I can’t see why you won’t allow me such a small thing.”
He kisses my shoulder. “I’m listening, Goddess, but I don’t believe that’s why you came to see me. If you wanted to talk about Sunset Cove, you would have done so in Saint-Tropez. There were several times when you could have gotten me to agree to anything.”
“Anything?” This new information hits me hard, and I’m listening too.
“Anything.”
His hand drifts down to where my shirt is tied, and he undoes it, sliding it down my shoulders until it comes off.
He takes off my bra next, leaving my heaving breasts bobbling. He catches the nipple of my right breast and massages the tip.
“Now tell me.” He catches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing. “Give me the real reason you wanted to see me tonight.”
His eyes in the mirror’s reflection hold me in place. I stare back at myself, bent over his table, with him fondling my breast with one hand and holding the tattoo gun in the other.
“Tell me, Aurora.”
Tell him and bare my truth?
Do I have a choice? Probably not. I think if I kept quiet, he’d know anyway and try to tease it out of me so he could hear me say it.
He wants to hear me confess that my walls of defense have come crashing down around me and all I want is him.
I’m not the woman who walked into the Astoria months ago, handed him that contract, and told him that all of this was for her father.
The truth is it was, but it wasn’t.
It was for me.
“Say the words,” he whispers over my skin, unlocking the words from my mind.
“I want you,” I say. “I wanted you.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.” He turns me to face him. “Look back in the mirror, Goddess.”
I do and widen my eyes when my gaze lands on my reflection in the mirror and I see he’s tattooed the words Mrs. Knight Grayson on my ass.
The inky black swirling letters on my fair skin should shock me, but they feel so right on me, they look perfect. Everything looks perfect.
He catches my face and guides me back to him.
“Mine. Now you won’t forget who you belong to,” he mutters. “You’re mine. Mrs. Knight Grayson.”
With those potent words spoken, he finally, finally kisses me, sending a maddening dose of need and pleasure rocketing through me.
We kiss like we need each other to survive and like we might die if we stop. Then he sets me on the table, shrugs out of his clothes, and fucks me with the same possession.
His ruthless cock slams into me over and over again, and that’s how we continue the rest of the night.
The sun wakes me the next morning with its luminous rays.
The moment I open my eyes, and my gaze connects with the walnut wood wardrobe and the scent of musk tickles my nose I know I’m in Knight’s room.
I haven’t been in here since before the wedding. When I got back from Saint-Tropez, I didn’t want to risk being presumptuous, so I retreated to my room.
Now I’m here, but where is he?
The last time I woke up in here, he was gone, and it felt like we just had a one-night stand where I was supposed to leave after with no questions asked, no strings attached, and no expectations.
I truly hope this time won’t be like that. Last night was different. Different than even when we were in Saint-Tropez. It felt like I truly gave myself to him and bared my soul.
I roll onto my side and get my answer. My heart lifts with shameless delight when I see Knight sitting on the window bay, smoking a cigar. And good heavens is the man something to look at.
His hair is just-had-wild-sex-with-my-wife messy. His olive skin still has a deeper tan from the island sun, and with his muscles and tattoos on show, he looks like he could have walked out of a fantasy.
Truth be told, he did. He walked right out of one of mine and materialized into the vision before me.
God help me, I want him all over again.
I sit up, pulling the sheets up over my breasts, and we stare at each other for a few languid seconds of silence.
“Sleep well?” Knight asks, taking a draw from his cigar and blowing out a plume of smoke.
“Yes. You?”
“I didn’t sleep all that much. I like watching you sleep more.” He gives me a boyish grin. “You’re like a mermaid.”
I giggle. “Is that good or bad?”
“Good.” His gaze runs over me. “So, last night was intense.”
“And you seriously tattooed your name on me.”
“It will come off in about a month.” His smile brightens with mischief and charm. “That’s the sort of ink I use when people want to test out a design but aren’t sure.”
I pull my knees up to my chest, mesmerized to learn something more about him. “You did tattoos?”
“I used to.” He stretches his arms wide, showing off the display of artwork on his torso. “I did these and the ones on my leg. Jericho did the one on my back.”
I chuckle. “Wow. What else am I going to find out about you, Knight Grayson? Every day there’s something new.”
“There’s so much more. I’m sure there’s more to you too.”
“There is.” Things I want him to know and things I don’t. Like my sordid past with Scott. I’m hoping I can push that into the back of the beyond if I get the job with People Magazine.
“I’m moving your things in here later,” he suddenly declares, surprising me.
“What?”
“This is your room now. We can turn one of the other rooms into an office for you to write in, but you sleep in here with me from now on.” The fervency in his tone suggests he’s thought about this idea a lot. I have, too.
“Really?” I rasp.
“Yes. If there’s anything else you need, I’ll sort it out.”
There is one thing. The one and only thing I’ve wanted from him.
“Last night you said there were moments in Saint-Tropez when I could have gotten you to do anything. Did you mean it?”
He pulls in a slow, measured breath, clearly knowing what I’m going to say next.
“I did.”
“Is that still true?”
“Yes,” he answers without thought.
“Sunset Cove, Knight. I know you hate the forties, but you have so much, I don’t think this would bother you. My mother and I came from nothing.” It’s always so hard for me to talk about that time in my life. It feels like reopening a wound once it’s healed. “We were so poor at one point, we couldn’t eat. Getting a place like Sunset Cove was her life’s work. She couldn’t wait to bring her designs to life. That’s why it would mean everything to me if you could just allow me to use them. It wouldn’t affect any of the renovation work or rebuild. I was going to renovate the place anyway. The plans for the interior design are all I’m asking about. Please.” My voice drops to a hush.
He leans forward, puts his cigar out, and my entire body lifts when he nods.
“Okay, alright. You can do it.”
The exhilaration of hearing him agree has me scrambling off the bed and rushing over to him with the sheet barely wrapped around me.
I rush to his arms, and he takes me, pulling me into his lap.
“Thank you so much.” I touch his face, running my fingers over his beard.
“It’s okay.” He smiles, but there’s an uneasiness in his eyes. “Aurora, I might want to do different things with Sunset Cove.”
“I just want to use my mother’s designs. That’s all. Something from her that will never die.”
“Okay. Looks like you got me wrapped around your finger.” He briefly brushes his forehead over mine.
“Does that mean you’re mine too?”
He touches my face and strokes my cheek. “Do you want me to be?”
The question feels like the most important one I’ve ever been asked. “Yes.”
“Then I’m yours.”
I smile down at him, feeling whole for the first time in forever.
I lean down and kiss him, allowing the thrill of being Mrs. Knight Grayson to steal my heart away, the same way he did.
My Hades.
