Page 72 of Keeping Knight

“If you want.” He removes my bra, then ducks his head to take my nipple into his mouth. One big hand splays across my stomach. “But I think you’re perfect. Just like this.”

I trail a finger down his chest to his abs, tracing each muscle as I go. When I reach the line of golden hair that disappears beneath his waistband, Micah sucks in a breath. His gaze lifts to meet mine, hot and dark with desire.

“Ruby,” he murmurs after he releases my nipple with a little pop. “I love feeling your hands on me. It’s⁠—”

My fingers slide underneath his briefs, dipping lower still. Wrapping them around his thick length, I stroke his velvety skin. He jerks in my hand and goes slick with arousal. “I love feeling you, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Micah asks roughly. He cups my breast with his big hand and lightly tweaks my nipple. “What do you love about it?”

My core squeezes as his other hand moves between my legs. “So hot for me,” he continues. “So damn hot.”

A desperate, throbbing ache is building deep inside me. My inner walls squeeze around nothing. Knowing how he feels, how big and thick and ready he is, my body begs for him. My hips thrust forward, wordlessly asking.

Micah nips at the sensitive skin beneath my jaw. Then he swipes his tongue across the same spot to soothe it. “I love how you respond to me,” he says. “How your cheeks flush and your pulse jumps whenever I touch you. I love tasting you. Putting my hands and mouth all over your perfect skin.” He kisses my neck again. “Your skin is the softest thing I’ve ever felt.”

I stroke his erection, experimenting a little to see what he likes best. When I add a little extra pressure, he grows even thicker. The tendons in his neck go tight. His stomach muscles quiver. “I love feeling what I do to you,” I tell him. “I love knowing I can make you feel good.”

“Rue.” The blue of Micah’s eyes is nearly swallowed by black. “You make me feel so much more than good. The way I feel with you…” Emotion flickers across his face. “There aren’t words for it.”

Gripping the back of his neck, I drag his mouth up to meet mine. Then I kiss him hard.

Micah rises to his knees and tugs me against him. His hand comes to my ass and gently squeezes. “I love your ass,” he murmurs when we break apart for a breath. “It’s the perfect size.”

“The perfect size for what?” I ask.

“For my hand,” he replies. Then he pulls me against his erection, so it juts thick and insistent between my thighs. “But everything about you is perfect, Ruby. Your mouth.” He kisses me again. “Your breasts.” He ducks his head to suckle my nipple again. “Your freckles. That little tattoo.”

“It’s a quote from my favorite poem.” My head falls back as Micah rolls my nipple with his tongue. “I took a class on Thoreau in college. And the line just stuck with me.”

Micah lays me back on the bed. He presses a soft kiss to the tattoo just below my left breast. “It’s perfect, Rue.” Then he smiles. “I wondered, you know. If you had any tattoos. And about your freckles.”

“What about my freckles?” I ask. I’ve had thirty-plus years to get used to them, but I still carry the memories from when I was a kid and I wished more than anything for an expanse of unfreckled skin that would tan in the sun instead of immediately burning.

“I wanted to know if they were everywhere,” he replies.

I glance down at my body. “They are.”

His smile expands. “I know.” Micah leans over me and kisses a trio of freckles near my belly button. “And I can’t tell you how happy I am about that.”

Flattening my hand across the tattoo inked across his chest, I say, “I wondered about your tattoos, too.”

“Do you like them?” he asks. “They all mean something.” Glancing down, he adds, “The knife in the arrowhead represents my Delta team. Sine Pari was our motto. The stars and stripes and the falcon… they’re pretty self-explanatory.”

“I love them,” I reply. My lips curve up. “But I think you’re missing one.”

“Oh?” His brows rise. “What am I missing?”

My hand moves to the uninked side of his chest. “A knight.”

“Rue.” His gaze softens. “Hearing you say it…”

“It’s true.”

“With you it is,” Micah replies. “I would do anything for you.”

Grasping his briefs, I work them down his hips. His erection springs free, long and thick and leaking steadily. “I would do anything for you, too.”

He helps me to remove his briefs, then rocks back on his heels to look at me. “I’m going to take the rest of your clothes off,” he says. “Are you ready for that?”