The Knight (Stolen Duet 2)

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. He removed bacon from the packaging and placed the slices in the pan. “He doesn’t regret not choosing you, Sprite. He just regrets you.”

“Your parents didn’t love you enough,” I countered. “I get it. It made you sad, so I’ll excuse your ignorance, but my father loves me.”

“You’ve never considered that maybe he wishes he didn’t?” He continued cooking as he coldly ripped apart my father’s love—love that always made me feel safe without fail. “It would be easier for him to walk away and forget you. He’s tried every day since that summer afternoon nine years ago.”

“Stop it.” My throat was clogged, so I had to force words through.

“He even married you when you were only sixteen fucking years old to a man he knew would corrupt you so he wouldn’t feel responsible for you.”

“Please. Just—”

“Would he die for you, Sprite?” I couldn’t take anymore. I pushed away from the bar and stood up from the stool with Caylen in my arms. He was still hungry and started to cry and fight to free himself from my arms. I just needed to get away.

I hurried from the kitchen just as Angel snatched the pan from the burner and started after me. He caught me just outside the kitchen just as Z appeared. Before I could do anything, Angel gently pried Caylen from my arms and gave him to Z.

“Leave us alone!” He ignored me as he gave Z orders to finish feeding Caylen before dragging me up the stairs.

We were back in his domain, but this time, the air was heavier and more dangerously charged than before. “Why are you crying?” he demanded.

“You had no right to say those things!”

“Why? Because they were true?” He shoved all ten of his fingers in my hair and forced me against his chest. “Do the lies your father tell hurt less?” I pushed against him until he growled and shoved me on his bed. “Your father is not a man. He abandoned you when you needed him most, and who did he give you to?” I crawled through the rumpled bedding to get away from his possessive energy before it consumed me, but he caught my ankle and dragged me back as he growled, “You have no idea how hard I’ve tried not to hurt you.” He lifted me up by the front of my shirt and nipped my bottom lip. “But what’s control without a little chaos first?”

Brutally, he pressed his lips against mine. When I refused to kiss him back, he ripped open the shirt he’d given me. My lips fell open from shock, and his tongue found mine, coaxing me to play. We fell so deep that I feared we’d never find the surface again.

Eventually, I needed air, but the kiss went on until I was beating on his chest, begging for it. I drew in gulps of precious air when he finally let up.

“Every breath you take is a show of mercy, Mian.”

“I hate you,” I confessed to his beautiful, scowling face. “Why do you care if I love my father?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Your father will die, and you’ll still be mine.” I felt his promise seep into my veins and warm my blood. I was Angel’s, body and soul. He’ll possess one or destroy the other. “I want to hurt you for what you did in the warehouse.” His lips coasted over my throat as he pushed me on my back and slipped my panties down my thighs. “I just might.”

“You think I chose him?" I didn't recognize my quaking voice. "I love him because he’s my father. I never had a choice. I’ve loved you since I was twelve. That was my choice. You were a choice.” And a bad one.

“And what do you choose now?” His kisses trailed to my breasts, and then he slipped my nipple into his mouth as he moved between my thighs. He took my hands and moved them to his hips. My fingers had a mind of their own as they gripped the waistband of his sweatpants. Fucking was the only thing that could calm our storm. It was wrong, but it was ours. When his head lifted, brown met green. “Right now is when you decide how your life with me will be.”

“I could give you what you want, but you’d never believe it was real.” I didn’t break our stare as I pushed his sweats down until they stopped under his ass. “You shouldn’t.”

“There’s nothing about us that will ever be anything but real.” Slowly, he slid inside me, making me feel every hard inch of him as he did. Soft lips brushing my ear, he whispered, “You wouldn’t fit so perfectly if you weren’t made for me.” I didn’t have time to argue his point when he flipped us over leaving me on top and him smiling sexily from below me. “Ride me, Sprite.” He gave my ass a hard slap. “Fuck your husband.”