Neon & Nets (Venom Next Gen #1)

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Sofia

“It’s great to have you here, Sofia.” Kingsley pats the seat between us. “I remember when you were little, and your mom would bring you all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while. School. You know.” I tug at the hem of the jersey Knight gave me. It’s clearly not his because even with his muscular build, I need a larger size to accommodate my boobs. Which means he bought this shirt specifically with me in mind.

I’m trying not to read too deeply into that. After all, we’re talking about the same guy who kept his eyes closed most of the time we were having sex yesterday. Like he didn’t want to look at me. Like he needed to think of something or someone else to get off. What am I supposed to think about that? I might have cried a bit on the Uber ride back to my place after. Good thing it was a self-driving car so I didn’t have to lie and say I had something in my eye.

“It’s so odd to come to these games and have the guys in the stands with us.” Mom smiles down at Cash and Marco, who are messing around at the front of our reserved section, along with a bunch of their friends.

“The weirdest part is hearing someone else commentate,” Kingsley says. “You know, I barely knew Cash during his hockey days. It’s so funny that Dante thinks that his whole legacy revolves around hockey, as if the last, what, twenty-nine years never happened. He’s a musician. A successful one. Half his fans don’t even know he played on the team.”

“Really?” I squint at Cash’s back. “But all his best friends are hockey players. I’m not knocking his music, but don’t you think it’s kind of weird that he never made such good friends in the music industry?”

“It’s a different energy,” Kingsley explains. “More competitive. And then there’s an underlying lack of morality, honesty, and work ethic that he doesn’t particularly care for. Sure, we’ve connected with other musicians over the years, but hockey’s about working together rather than competing for a place on the charts. I think it fosters different kinds of relationships. Instead of being cutthroat, on a team, you kind of have to have each other’s backs.”

She might have a point. I try to imagine Viktor and Knight hanging out in thirty years…

Well, maybe it’s not fair to suggest that hockey players are a monolith.

“We haven’t come to a game in a while, either,” Kingsley admits. “The last few years, the team has been, um. Not up to Cash’s standards.”

“It’s been shitty,” I deadpan.

Mom snorts. “It’s certainly been a deterrent to enjoying live action. But now that Knight’s here with Viktor… Would you look at this!” She waves to the stands. “There are a lot more people here today than there have been in a while, and I don’t think it’s just because a new season’s kicking off. This could be the start of a team rebuilding and re-inventing itself.”

“Can’t be worse than the one three years ago,” Kingsley says.

Mom covers her face with both hands. “There’s a reason Marco decided it was time to retire. Oh, sweetie, look!” She grabs my arm with one hand and points down toward Cash and Marco .

The players have emerged and are making their way onto the ice. Other people realize at the same time, and the stadium soon echoes with cheers and whoops and incomprehensible chirping. There’s loud music, a smoke machine, and a foghorn. I applaud, watching the jumbotron screen more than the players. Especially with so many former players here tonight, it’s almost guaranteed that someone will point the camera our way. I wonder if I’ll have enough time to get small. Go unnoticed. If people see me wearing Knight’s jersey, it’ll blow up on socials, and inevitably there will be weirdos who track me down for the purpose of leaving hateful comments on my page.

Without meaning to, I slip one hand into the pocket of my jeans and fiddle with the chain I’m carrying with me today.

“You have to go down there,” Mom says.

I whip my head toward her. “What?”

“To the ice. You have to wish Knight luck. This is his first game with the team, and that’s important. He invited you specially and gave you his jersey to wear. It’s only polite, Sofia.”

“Oh, but…” I dip my head. “Isn’t that for, you know, girlfriends and stuff?”

“Fuck that.” Knova’s head pops over the row of padded green neon seats behind us, so that her face is inches from mine. “I’m going down there to give Viktor a good-luck dick kick. Wanna join me?”

“I guess.” I get to my feet. “Are we all going?”

“Just you and me, girl.” Knova clambers over her seat so that she’s standing in mine and gives me a nudge. “Keep moving. We’re on the clock here.”

I lead the way down the aisle, then down the cement risers to the ice. Is the Jumbotron focused on us yet? Don’t trip, Sofia. If you do, you’ll wipe out on camera. You’ll become the next great holomeme and live in infamy on the internet. After that shame, it won’t even matter that you have great hair.

This is all so much more pressure than I expected. I feel like our parents are passing the torch to us. The thing is, Knight signed up for it—as in, literally signed a contract—but I’m not sure how I feel about falling in line so easily. Unlike my mom and dad, I never craved the spotlight. Putting on a mask just to make people I don’t even care about like me? That’s not who I am, and I’m not sure it ever will be.

Viktor and Knight are waiting for us at the boards where the arena crew has temporarily removed a piece of the plexiglass, and my heart does this pathetic little flip when I see his smiling face. He’s looking at me like I’m the center of the known universe.

I hope he doesn’t expect me to kiss him in front of all these people. In front of our parents. I stumble over the last step, pulling my hand out of my pocket, along with the present I brought him.

“I made you this,” I blurt.

Knight gives me a bemused smile. “What is it?”

“It’s a necklace.” I adjust my grip on the chain so that he can see the pendant. It’s my take on an Italian cornicello, the horn pendant popular with Italian guys, including my father. Some are made from real horn, others from gold or silver, but as always, mine is a little different. The horn is made from black resin that I mixed myself, set in a gold finding. Next to it is a round emblem the size of a nickel, into which I’ve hammered the Venom logo. One side is plain brass, while I’ve filled in the other with the Venom colors: green and purple. The chain, like the findings, is gold.

Making jewelry for a guy turned out to be harder than I expected. Most of the jewelry that I make is designed for me, so I usually have an outfit or at least a look in mind. Trying to make something that matches Knight’s aesthetic took more creative effort.

It seems from his smile that my work paid off, though. He bends toward me, so a lock of his hair falls into his eyes. “That’s amazing, Sofia. Can you put it on for me? The gloves…”

“Oh, sure.” With shaking hands, I clasp the chain around his neck. Knight grins at me as he tucks it into his clothes, right next to his heart.

Be cool, Sofia. No swooning allowed . I lower my hands to my sides, not sure what to do with them now.

“It’s, uh, for luck,” I mumble. “Have a good season, Knight. Not that you need it. Luck… that is. I know you’re talented.”

“That’s so cute,” Viktor croons. He wraps an arm around Knova’s shoulders and makes doe eyes at her. “What about you? Did you bring me something?”

“Oh, sure. I have it right here.” Knova reaches into the pocket of her pants, feels around, and then pulls her hand back out with her middle finger extended. “Fuck you, Vik.” She returns his simpering smile. “I hope you end up with the most penalty minutes in the league.”

People laugh, and I realize that, at long last, the jumbotron has found us. The commentators are having a field day, although it’s mercifully hard to hear them from the ice. Their voices are reduced to a jumble of phonemes.

Did people see me give Knight the necklace? Is this going to become a whole thing? How many images of us will be distributed across the internet in the next five minutes?

My heart thumps against my ribs. I’m sweating. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

“See you later, losers,” Viktor calls as he turns to leave. Knight’s feet move so quickly that Viktor doesn’t see him coming, and he has to flail his arms to keep from hitting the ice face-first.

“Thanks,” Knova drawls. “I would’ve done that if I could.”

“Come on,” Viktor whines. “That’s not fair.”

“Sure it is. It’s karma.” I blow him a kiss. “Come on, Knova. Let’s get back into our seats.” Back out of the spotlight.

I watch Knight skate away, looking every bit the superstar everyone expected him to be. Cool, calm, collected. Hot as hell. Meanwhile, I’m over here feeling like my insides are doing cartwheels. It’s his first game with the Venom, and I’m trying to act like this is no big deal. Just another night at the rink, right?

Wrong.

I tug at the jersey he gave me, trying to focus on the game instead of how it feels like the whole stadium is watching me. “This thing is too tight,” I mutter.

“Sure, blame the jersey,” Knova says from the seat behind me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s not your boobs that are the problem.”

“Shut up.” I elbow her, half laughing, half mortified. “Why am I even wearing this? It’s not like I need to advertise that I’m a human billboard for bad decisions.”

Knova leans forward, her breath warm against my ear. “Because deep down, you know you’re into my little brother. It’s adorable. Pathetic, but adorable.”

Before I can fire back, Kingsley, sitting on my other side, gives me a nudge. “She’s got a point, you know. Knight’s always been... different with you. Special.”

Just as I’m about to sink further into my chair and avoid all eye contact with Knight’s mom, Molly chimes in, her voice calm and soothing in that way only someone who’s been through this hockey-wife circus can pull off. “First games are always tough, sweetie. Nerves run high. But trust me, Knight’s got this.”

I glance down at the ice, watching as he skates effortlessly past his teammates, focused like it’s life or death. And maybe it is—for him, anyway.

“I know he does,” I mumble. “It’s just... a lot.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Mom says, offering me a wink. “But for now, just enjoy the game.”

The puck drop saves me, and the game’s off to a fast start. My eyes are glued to Knight, even though I’m trying to play it cool like I’m not completely invested in this. I underestimated how hard it would be to keep my feelings under wraps in front of my mom and his. He glides across the ice like he was born there, confident and in control. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying not to chew through my lip from the nerves.

“Are you breathing?” Knova nudges me, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“Barely.” I exhale sharply, adjusting my jersey again. “I feel like I’m watching a gladiator fight, except the stakes are somehow higher.”

“Chill, this is my brother we’re talking about.” Knova leans over, her voice dripping with that casual confidence she always seems to have. “He’s been waiting to be able to impress you his whole life. Let him own it.”

I grunt in response, my heart doing somersaults as Knight gets control of the puck. He dodges an incoming defender. “I don’t know why I’m so worked up. It’s just a game. I used to go to Knight’s games all the time back in high school.”

The crowd roars as the breath catches in my throat. Every fiber of my being tenses as he speeds toward the net.

“Come on, Knight…” I murmur, gripping the edge of my seat like it might save me from spontaneously combusting.

“Go, little brother!” Knova shouts at top decibel.

My heart throbs, and I can feel the tension building inside me, as if Knight’s performance on the ice somehow reflects everything swirling between us. It’s ridiculous. And yet… here I am, hanging on every second.

I want him to do well.

Knight makes a nifty move in the neutral zone, his speed picking up as he heads straight toward the opposing goalie. The crowd’s energy swells, and the noise in the arena reaches a fever pitch. I can’t tear my eyes away from him—every muscle in my body is tensed like I’m the one out there skating toward glory.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Knova whispers, leaning closer.

“I might.” My voice comes out strained, and I bite my lip harder. “I can’t breathe.”

“He’s gonna score,” Kingsley says confidently, a little too calmly for my liking. “Look at him. I know that expression. He’s locked in. Just like his dad.”

I’m not sure how she’s so composed, because I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. Knight’s flying down the ice, laser-focused on the puck. It’s like the whole world narrows down to just him and the goal in front of him. I swear I can see the intensity in his eyes even from here.

Just then, Knight pulls back, winds up, and takes the shot. The puck rockets toward the net, and for a split second, time seems to stop. The entire arena holds its breath.

And then, the puck sails past the goalie and into the net with a satisfying thunk.

As the red light swirls and the horn sounds, the place erupts in cheers, and I’m on my feet before I can even think. The adrenaline rush hits me so hard I feel like I’ve been shot out of a cannon. I scream, clapping and hollering, my heart pounding like I was the one who just scored.

I can barely process the noise, the excitement, everything happening around me. All I know is that Knight just scored his first goal with the Venom, and my heart feels like it’s about to burst.

But as the cheers fade and the moment settles, a knot of emotions tightens in my chest. I care about him. Maybe more than I ever wanted to admit, even to myself. And now that he’s scored, it’s like a switch has flipped inside me. This is real. He’s real. And whatever’s happening between us… I don’t know if I’m ready to face it.

As the cheers slowly die down and everyone settles back into their seats, I can’t shake the way my heart is still hammering against my chest. Knight’s skating back to the bench now, his grin wide, and my stomach flips. He looks up, his eyes scanning the stands, and for a split second, I swear he’s looking for me.

The emotions almost overwhelm me. What do I do with all of this? The line between us has always been blurry, and now it’s disappearing altogether.

As I sit back down, I steal one last glance at him. He’s laughing with his teammates, soaking up the well-deserved glory of his first goal with the Venom. He looks so damn happy, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—there’s a place for me in that happiness too.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling in my chest.

“He did great,” Mom says softly, giving my arm a reassuring pat. “He’s always been good under pressure. Just like your godfather. The apple didn’t fall very far from the tree.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “He really did an amazing job.”

But as the game moves on, the buzz of excitement starts to fade into the background, replaced by a quiet realization settling in my gut. I care about Knight—more than I’ve let on, more than I’ve ever allowed myself to feel.

And the scariest part? I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. For him.

How am I supposed to be a good partner for someone when I’m often confused about who I am and where I’m going in life?

As the final buzzer sounds and the crowd erupts one last time, celebrating a 2-1 Venom win, I know one thing for sure: whatever happens next, I can’t keep hiding behind this wall I’ve built. It’s time to face what’s been simmering between us for so long.

Because this—him, us—it’s real. And maybe, just maybe, I’m ready to stop pretending otherwise.

* * *

“I miss Distill,” Dad complains. He stares into his drink, one elbow braced on the table with his palm propped under his chin.

“Wow, Dad.” I flick his shoulder. “Knight just won his first game with the Venom, and you’re focused on a bar that went out of business two decades ago?”

“Two decades!?” He buries his face in his hands. “Has it been so long? Are we that old?”

“Yes,” Knova and Viktor say in perfect unison.

That earns them both a glare. “Hey, now.”

“Who cares about some crappy old bar?” Viktor asks. “We’ve got The Puck Drop. And Coop catering to us. What could be better than that?”

“With a private lounge for the team,” Knight adds.

Tristan scratches his head and looks around. He leans over to me to whisper, “Doesn’t one of your dad’s friends own this place?”

“Yeah, Cooper Harrison.” I point to the lounge’s bar, where Coop is pouring drinks for the team and their personal guests. “He was on the team back in the day. The Stanley-Cup-winning team.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Tristan asks.

“Nostalgia,” Knova explains. “Our dads are pretty big on sentiment. Which also explains that.” She points to the Wall of Shame.

Of course, that’s not the official name. In theory, it’s the Wall of Fame, but since Cooper and Toni designed it, there are a billion photos of us as kids mixed in with the pictures of our dads, their all-time scoring stats, ticket stubs, pucks, framed jerseys… all the usual sports memorabilia.

“Hey, Sof, let me show you something.” Knova gets to her feet and beckons me toward the wall. The guys watch us go, then immediately put their heads together.

I don’t care so much about the rest of the team, but I wonder what Tristan and Viktor think. Of the necklace. Of me. And, most importantly, of me and Knight. I hate that I care, but I’m also kind of paranoid about the things guys say behind my back. Like if they talk about my body, and make fun of it, or how I don’t fit the norm of the girls they hook up with.

I hate overthinking everything, yet I can’t seem to turn off that part of my brain.

“Check this out,” Knova says. She points to one of the framed photos.

I look up and immediately clap my hands over my mouth to stop myself from howling with laughter. It’s ‘The Photo.’ The one Knova used to threaten Viktor with all the time. The one she snuck into our high school yearbook. An adorable tiny version of the Viktor we all know and tolerate smiles out from the frame wearing a pink wig, a frilly dress, and sporting sparkly pink nail polish. A golden tiara rests on his head .

“I forgot she dressed him up as Princess Bubblegum!” I giggle.

“Thanks to Viv, I think he makes a beautiful princess. And because he’s a selfish asshole, he’s probably a pillow princess in the ‘you-know-where.’ I totally picture him laying back on the pillows with his hands laced behind his head and an arrow pointed to his dick.” Knova crosses her arms and smirks. “It’s a genuinely cute photo though. I would pay money to recreate this photoshoot today.”

“You should ask Stella to do it,” I tease, imagining Viktor actually asking Knova to service him. They’d probably have to take him out of the bedroom in pieces. “She took all those photos of Mom back in the day. Ooh, or the chick from our desert photoshoot!”

“You know Viv would be into it. Although I doubt Viktor could wear it with the same confidence you wore that cactus suit.”

“This picture really is the gift that keeps on giving.” I flip my palm open to snap a photo of the photo. Meta, I know, but it’s always nice to have a little something to hold over Viktor’s head.

We make our way back to the guys, who are being exactly as mature as I’ve come to expect.

“I think you have a crush on the robot server,” Knight says.

“That’s right.” Viktor rolls his eyes. “I want to dry-hump that weird little R2-D2 lookalike.”

“Maybe you should shoot your shot,” Tristan suggests. “She’s smarter than your usual puck bunny.”

Knight nods, looking somber. “It might be the best he can do.”

Viktor scoffs. “Puh-lease. I could have your sister if I wanted to. ”

Knova drops both hands onto Viktor’s shoulders, who jumps so badly that he almost spills his drink. “You lead a rich fantasy life, Viktor. You’ll have me in your dreams and my nightmares.” She bends down behind him and stage-whispers into his ear, “Or maybe I mean in my dreams and your nightmares. Depending on which one of us is calling the shots.”

Viktor chokes on his own spit, and Knight and Tristan laugh as he splutters and protests.

Tristan leans in close to Knight and mumbles, “I know I’m not supposed to admit this, but I fucking love your sister.”

Mom and Dad are over by the bar, but instead of buying drinks, I can tell they’re saying their farewells.

“Looks like we’re about to head out,” I say.

Knight rotates on his chair and catches my wrist gently in his grip. He smiles up at me, his cheeks flushed from drinking, his eyes bright with desire. “I can make sure you get home safely. If you want to stick around for a while.” His thumb skates over the sensitive flesh of my inner wrist.

It’s a wonder I don’t melt into a puddle of goo right then and there, in front of everyone.

“Um,” I say. “Yeah. Sure. O-okay.”

“Girls?” Mom calls. “We’re leaving if you want to come with us…”

“I’ll make some excuse for you, Sof,” Knova tells me. “You kids have fun.” She drums her fingers on Viktor’s shoulders and sings, “Dream a little dream of me.” Then she actually hisses in his ear.

After they leave, I settle back into my seat. Knight doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he slips his hand into mine, keeping a sweet, gentle pressure on my fingers as the conversation unfolds.

I don’t say much. I’m too distracted by the thought of going back to Knight’s place and doing more of what we did last time .

Except that, tonight, I’ll be wearing his jersey while I’m under him. It’s such a fucking cliche, and yet I’m already turned on. I want to belong to this man, even if it’s only in my own mind. I want to leave right now.

But I don’t want to ask for too much, either. I don’t want to come across as needy. I can be patient. Besides, what’s the rush? The more pressure I put on Knight, the sooner this thing between us will break under the strain.

As the last of the crowd trickles out, Knight leans close, his fingers still wrapped around mine, sending warmth radiating up my arm. I can feel the pulse in his grip, steady but insistent, like he’s trying to communicate something beyond words. He catches my gaze, those intense eyes glinting with something I can’t quite name, but that sets my heart racing. The bar’s quieting down, and suddenly, it’s like we’re the only two people left in the world.

“You ready?” he murmurs, his voice low, just for me.

“Yeah,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper, but he hears it. I can see the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes darken, and it sends a thrill through me. There’s something electric, almost dangerous, about the look he’s giving me. It’s a look that makes me feel like if I don’t follow him out of here right now, I might regret it for the rest of my life. Despite my better judgment, I’m going home with him. All I have to do is fire off a text to my mom so she doesn’t worry.

He pulls me toward the door, his hand warm and solid in mine. Outside, the night air wraps around us, cool and biting, but I barely notice. Knight guides me toward the waiting car, holding the door open for me like some kind of old-fashioned gentleman, but the tension between us is anything but old-fashioned. As soon as we’re inside, he slides in beside me, and the space feels too small, too charged with the unspoken things we’re both holding back.

The car hums to life, but all I can focus on is him. He’s so close, and I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. My heart hammers in my chest as he turns to face me, his eyes scanning my face, lingering on my lips, like he’s weighing whether he should close the distance between us right here, right now. The city lights blur outside the window, casting flickering shadows across his face, and I wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s holding back.

As the car glides through the city streets, he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering at my jaw. “I’ve been waiting all night to get you alone,” he says, his voice rough, almost raw, and the honesty in it catches me off guard.

I swallow, trying to keep my composure, but it’s impossible with him looking at me like that. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, leaning in so close I can feel his breath against my skin. “You’re all I’ve thought about since the last time you left. This whole thing with us... I don’t want it to end, Sofia.”

His words wrap around me, filling the empty spaces I didn’t even know I had. “I don’t want it to end either.”

The car stops, and Knight doesn’t waste a second. He slides out, extending a hand to help me, and I take it, letting him lead me inside. The elevator ride up to his condo is a blur of stolen glances, silent promises, and a tension that crackles between us like a live wire. My heart pounds with anticipation, every nerve in my body alive and waiting, craving whatever comes next.

By the time we step inside his condo, I’m already breathless, lost in the intensity of it all. Knight closes the door behind us, and for a moment, we just stand there, staring at each other. The air feels thick with everything we haven’t said, but words aren’t necessary right now. God, how I want this man. How I’ve always wanted him. He takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine, and I know, with absolute certainty, that this is where I’m meant to be. In his arms, in his world, even if it’s just for tonight.

Knight moves first, closing the distance between us in one smooth stride. His hand slides to my waist, firm yet gentle, and before I know it, my back is pressed against the cool countertop of his kitchen. The sudden shift sends a thrill through me, my breath catching in my throat. His lips find mine, a kiss that’s both soft and hungry, and I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as he deepens the kiss.

In one effortless motion, he lifts me onto the counter, his hands gripping my hips as if he’s done this a thousand times. My legs instinctively wrap around him, pulling him closer, and the feel of him between my thighs sends a shiver down my spine. The counter is solid beneath me, but it’s Knight’s touch, his presence, that grounds me.

He moves closer, spreading my legs even wider. Knight’s gaze is intense, locking with mine as if searching for permission to continue. But there’s no need for words between us now, only the unspoken understanding that we both crave this connection, this moment of raw vulnerability and passion.

Slowly, almost reverently, he begins to pull his jersey over my head, his fingers moving with practiced ease as each tug reveals more of my bare skin beneath. His touch is feather-light against my flesh, sending goosebumps in its wake. I tilt my head back, giving him better access as he trails kisses along the exposed curve of my neck.

Every nerve in my body is alight with sensation, every touch sending waves of pleasure crashing over me as my clothes hit the tile floor piece by piece. I arch into him, a silent plea for more as he continues his exploration, mapping out every inch of me with his lips and hands. After I glance down at my nakedness laid out before this man like a human buffet, my hands itch to cover my soft parts.

But as if he can read my mind, he kisses my forehead while his thumb caresses my bottom lip.

“You’re gorgeous, Sofia. Perfect. Everywhere.” he says, his voice laced with a grit I haven’t heard before. “Do you know why I played so good tonight? It’s because you were up there in the stands wrapped in my number.”

“I was so proud of you,” I whisper, cupping the back of his neck.

Knight’s hand trails down my neck and between my breasts, leaving a trail of sensation behind it. He reaches my hips, and his fingers dig into my flesh, causing a moan to escape.

He leans in closer, his lips hovering just above mine. “Do you know what it does to me? Having you here in my house? I’m going to remember this moment every single time I use this kitchen,” he whispers before his mouth descends upon one swollen nipple and sucks. “When I bought it, I pictured you in every single room.”

Then his hands drift lower, hooking under the sides of my lacy thong and pulling them down to my feet. My slit throbs with anticipation as he settles his hands on my knees and pushes. The cool quartz against my bare back and legs sends a little shiver through me as I stare at Knight, wondering about this side of him. Wondering what’s going to come next.

I don’t know if it’s the house, the goal, or the celebration at the bar, but he’s dripping in confidence tonight.

As the cool air hits my exposed flesh, I glance at him. Knight stares at my glistening pussy with dark, hungry eyes.

“You’re so wet for me.” He trails a single finger through my folds and brings it to his lips, tasting my arousal.

“Knight, what are you doing?” I ask, throwing my head back.

He leans in close again, his breath hot against my ear. “Tasting what belongs to me.”

“Knight, please…” I’m close to begging.

He looks down at me with such tenderness mixed with desire my heart squeezes inside my chest. Then his hand kneads my thigh before moving upward to that swollen bundle of nerves where I need him most. With a feather-light touch, he strokes the pad of his thumb against my aching clit, making my body jerk in response.

“Yes, yes.”

“Like this?” he asks, his liquid gaze locking with mine.

Thoughts tumble through my foggy brain as I give a little nod. All I want is for him to keep touching me. To make me come. I need release. I want it so fucking bad.

“Look at how much your greedy little clit needs my touch,” he murmurs, his pupils blown as he continues to tease me with his fingers.

But when he finally slides one inside me, I shift my hips to try to get closer. I need sweet friction. “More,” I plead, reaching out to grip the back of his neck.

“You’re so pretty when you’re dripping wet,” he approves, adding another finger and increasing the pressure and speed of his movements.

I’m not sure where he learned to talk like this, and I probably don’t want to know, but I approve. With one hand still buried inside me, he grabs hold of the nape of my neck with the other and pulls me closer, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue explores every inch of my mouth with a hunger that matches my own, while his skilled hand continues pumping in and out of my channel while massaging my sensitive clit at the same time.

I cling to the lip of the quartz as he releases my mouth. With each thrust of his fingers, I feel myself getting lost in the pleasure. In this. In us. My body rises to seek even more pressure, wanting everything he has to give me.

I imagine what it would be like to live here. With him.

“Sofia, you look so beautiful like this.” Knight’s other hand reaches up to grab my breast and pluck the already erect nipple. “I love the way your tits bounce when you ride my hand. But that’s not even close to being what I need right now.”

In one swift motion, he drops to his knees and yanks me toward him. His lips fasten on to my clit, and waves of pleasure roll through me until I lose focus.

“Yes,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “There’s nothing better than how you taste.”

“Right there,” I push out, arching my back and threading my fingers through his hair as he feasts on me like it’s his last meal. Even the thought of Knight—my Knight—being there between my legs and working my pussy over like he’s never wanted anything more sends shockwaves through my brain and body. I have to keep pinching myself and telling myself I deserve this.

I deserve him.

When his fingers curl inside me, hitting that perfect spot, my orgasm appears before my eyes. All I have to do is reach out and grab it. I know that I’m soaking wet, I know that I’m throbbing, and I know for damn sure that Knight Hale is my medicine. The only thing that always makes everything better. If I let him, he could be the center of my whole world. What would happen if I fell all the way as soon as this release hits me…

“Oh, my fucking God! Knight!” His lips latch onto my clit, and he sucks, sending me into orbit. The peak rolls through me, every single cell soaking up the pleasure.

As I shatter on his face, my limbs noodle-like and trembling, I look into his eyes and I realize it’s already happened. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep it casual. I’m not sure what that means, but I’m just going to adore him for as long as it lasts. He stands and pulls me against him, our mouths meeting in a heated frenzy as I taste myself on his tongue

“Sofia,” he whispers, his eyes locked on mine. “Every orgasm you have from now on, they’re all mine.”

The desire between us flares, consuming me in a thrilling and terrifying ways. As I watch him underneath hooded eyes, he strips out of his clothes and pumps his erect cock a few times, pre-cum glistening at the tip. My pussy clenches in response. Knight drives inside me, his angle perfect, his thrusts commanding. Sensations blind me, and before I know it, he’s coaxed another peak from me with ease. Pleasure rockets through me until I feel like I can’t take anymore. I collapse back onto the countertop as he cries out with his release.

Somehow, I feel changed.

Every touch, every stolen breath, pulls me deeper under, and all I can think about is how badly I want this man—how desperately I want him to want me just as much. Not just tonight, not just in this moment, but in every way that matters. I’m already falling for him, and it scares me how fast it’s happening.

What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if this is just a passing flame for him, while I’m here, ready to burn for forever?

I want more than just the heat of this moment. More than just his body. I want his adoration. His trust. His heart.

Maybe even his soul.