Broken Knight (All Saints High 2)

I tossed, turned, and sweated out my fever the entire night, my eyes closed, the rest of me awake. Thinking, wishing, willing myself to sweat Luna out of my system the way I did the fever, but knowing damn well that some syndromes were incurable, and she was one of them.

The next morning, I woke up groggy and disoriented. Luna brought me clear broth, tea, and two Advils. Then she sat at her desk and refused to look away until I’d consumed all of them. I still felt like shit, but better.

She stood up as soon as I was done with the tea, moving for the door. “I’m going to go grab a shirt for you from my dad’s closet. I don’t want you to walk around shirtless, even if it’s just to Vaughn’s house.”

“Not so fast.” I held up a hand. She stopped at the threshold, turning around to me.

“Your tit—” I pointed at her nightgown-covered chest. “—and I have a date. Now, I have no actual preference for which tit you’re giving me, but I drank two teas and that broth that tasted like sewer water. I think that qualifies for something.”

“For what?” She crossed her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow.

“Sucking your nipple.”

“Dream on.”

“Dreams are just our reality on hold, Moonshine.”

Hesitating, she peeked into the hallway, then closed the door behind her, locking it for good measure. I crooked a finger in her direction, coaxing her to come closer to the edge of the bed, where I sat. She took measured, careful steps, stopping about a foot from me. I could hear her heart beating. Or maybe it was mine.

Silently, she slipped off the straps of her nightgown, letting it slide down her thighs. Her body was glorious. Curvy everywhere, with a flat stomach and wide hips. I leaned forward and reached for her, hooking my arm around her lower back and jerking her to me. Her abs were in my face. I looked up at her. She was breathing fast and heavy.

“How far can I take this?” I murmured into her navel, my tongue playing peekaboo and darting into it for a delicious stroke. Her throat bobbed.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

“Well, you won,” she finally groused.

Fuck yes, I did.

Tentatively, I pressed my hot, pierced tongue over her hipbone, slowly dragging it up her stomach. She shivered and tried to pull back, but my hands slid from her lower back to her ass, cupping it to keep her pressed against my face.

When I reached her breasts, I traced the outline of her right tit with my tongue before pressing my piercing to her nipple and playing with it, sucking and tugging with my teeth.

“Ah,” she shuddered against my face, and I hungrily swirled my tongue around her puckered nipple, again and again, until her thighs shook and clenched.

“Knight,” my name fell off her lips like a broken prayer.

She yanked my hair. I was still sick, my head still pounding like a drum, but I could be in the middle of open-heart surgery and still suck her nipples like it was my job.

Her sweet cunt taunted me, and I moved to tease her other nipple, sucking on it hard and slow, building pressure, wondering if I could get away with more. She was moaning, raking her fingers over my hair and back, when I started rubbing her ass cheek with my thumb, back and forth, casually moving my hand to the front. It took me a few minutes to gather up the courage to dip my hand between her thighs and press it against her panty-covered pussy. Even though I still worked her nipples, I held my breath, knowing she was going to shoo me away in a second.

Only…she didn’t.

Her thighs opened up for me in silent approval, and I fell backward to the bed, taking her with me. I kissed her everywhere but her mouth—not because I didn’t want to devour her, but because I was sick. I still had my hand between her legs possessively, even though I didn’t exactly do anything about it yet. I just didn’t want to retreat. It was a parking space in downtown LA. I’d worked hard for this spot.

Moonshine was on top of me, tilting her head to the side and letting me kiss her neck, shoulders, and tits, when I figured out the best way to get my fingers in her cunt would be to flip us over. So I did. Now I was on top. I shoved my big palm into her small panties, dipped one finger into her pussy, and it was so wet and warm, I wanted to die inside it.

“You’re dripping,” I breathed. It almost sounded like a cry.

She bucked her hips toward my hand, and I started fingering her, my dick pulsating against my briefs with every kiss and thrust.