Only With You (The Knights, #2)

by E. Salvador

“It’s mesmerising…the sound of your voice.” I stop rubbing my hands. “What colors do you see?” “That’s for me to know and for you to never find out.”

I’ll always come.”

“So…you’ll be okay with just sleeping with me?” “Julianna, you’re all that I think about. There’s no room left in my mind for anyone else. I’m more than okay with it.”

I don’t know if Landon does girlfriends, but I know the day he has one, she’ll be in the best hands. He’s not only insanely perceptive, but also thoughtful. She’ll be a lucky girl. That makes me irrationally jealous, but I stamp the feeling away.

Now, shut the fuck up and ride my hand.”

“Just because I told you not to speak doesn’t mean you should withhold your moans from me. Let me hear what I do to your needy, slutty pussy.”

“So fucking good. Like that,”

“Fuck my hand like that. Show me how badly you want to be fucked. Show me how much you want my cock in your pussy.”

“So fucking good.” Then drags his slick index finger down the column of my throat. “I own you. Say it.” “You own me,” I hoarsely say and shudder at the wave of satisfaction that rolls over me.

“Such an obedient slut. I can’t wait to own every part of you.”

“I have an extensive nightly skincare routine.” “I’ve seen you do it.” “I sleep with a body pillow.” “You used me as your body pillow the other night. That’s not a problem.”

“I need a light on.” “If that’s what makes you feel safe and comfortable, I’ve no problem with it.”

“I like to listen to music before bed.” He shrugs, determination flaring in his eyes. “Good, me too. Anything else?”

My room is still off-limits to anyone, except for Julianna.

The level of serotonin I feel when I’m around Julianna is beyond me.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel blasé to life. I actually look forward to tomorrow and the days after.

Fuck, she’s so hot.

Vivacious aurous and intense impetuous cherry red.

I’ve never loved the taste of pussy as much as I do now. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of hers.

“I swear, I love your pussy,”

“I’m not fucking you on this chair. It’ll be on my bed, but before you do that”—I tip my head to the side and zero in on one of my pillows—“I want you to use one of the pillows. Whichever one you want. I don’t care, take your pick, but I want you to ride it. I want to see if you’ll be good enough to ride my cock.” And because I’m a dick with occasionally no moral compass, I add, “I want to see if you’re worth it.”

probably wondering if I’m worth it, because if we’re being real here, there’s no question, she is.

Julianna is the kind of girl guys beg for a speckle of her attention. She’s the kind of girl who could easily, and without trying, have anyone she wants. I would know, her public Instagram account says so. Those daft motherfuckers are always leaving stupid comments under her posts. And it’s not just her Instagram, but outside of it, too. I’m a male athlete, around a lot of other guys. I know what they say about her.

And it’s not just because she’s beautiful; she’s so smart and confident. But because we’re in the moment, and she, like me, thrives on degradation, and...

She’s unreal. Fuck is right, because nothing will ever be the same. That sends an odd wave to my chest, but I shake it off.

“Good, now lean back for me. I want to see all of you. I want to see the way your soaking wet cunt takes my cock.”

“It’s too much. You’re too big…I can’t…I can’t…” she cries breathlessly. “You fucking will. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be this wet, this willing, this easy for my cock,”

“I know, but I want to take care of you.”

“Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum. It’s the least I could do.”

“I hope you raise your standards, because this is nothing.”

“You matter to me Landon. Your life has so much purpose, and I’m thankful your my best friend. I’m here for you.” Then he hugged me and I let him. And that was the last time I’d let someone hug me.

“Do you think maybe you’re feeling that way because you like her romantically, and you feel like it all happened too fast?”

“It’s okay,” he assures me. “I think you’ve developed feelings for her and it’s a little hard for you to process them. I think you feel overwhelmed, because it triggered memories and you panicked.”

“She came out of nowhere…” I trail off, quietly chuckling to myself as I think back to the day I met her. “And I’m not referring to the car accident itself. She came out of nowhere and it was so unexpected. It’s not like getting a bucket of cold water poured on you. It’s unexpected in the way you see a picture of a breathtaking view. You know what to expect when you get there because you’ve already seen it, but once you get there, you realise the picture didn’t do the scene enough justice. Because once you’re there, once you’re really taking it all in, it’s much better than any picture or anyone could have ever described it.”

That’s what she does to me, how she makes me feel. She’s not the embodiment of the sun. She is the sun and all I want to do is keep rotating around it—around her.

“I like her, but I can’t afford to emotionally attach myself to someone who might not feel the same. Someone who will eventually leave. I watched my father pack his stuff and promise me that he’d be back, but he left and never returned. My mum died in my arms. And I almost lost myself in the process of trying to keep myself tied to them. I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

I think the distance is good for us. I’ve been missing her a little too much lately.

“You know I cleaned up her vomit almost every bloody day. I learned how to cook at the age of seven. I begged her to get better for me because she was all that I had. You know I was picking out shards of glass from my fucking face because she hated when I smiled because I look like you. You aren’t my father, because if you were, you would have prevented me from having to put up with that. And a father doesn’t make their kid feel like a burden for existing. And how dare you ask me to forget…”

“How fucking dare you when you know I can still smell the vomit, I can still hear her choking on it, every day.”

“If you were my father, you wouldn’t have been absent for most of my life, but instead, you were playing house with a whole other family. So no, John, I can’t meet you halfway and I don’t ever intend to. Fuck you. You’re a bloody pathetic, shit excuse of a person. Nothing but the man who produced the sperm.”

Julianna wearing my jersey? Now that’s a fantasy I’d like to make a reality.

Angel: I’m a big fan of number 55. I grimace. Me: That’s Malik’s number. Angel: I’m aware. Me: Do not think of showing up with another guy’s jersey. I’m not playing Julianna.

Angel: Attachment: 1 Image My jaw tightens as I look at the screen. She sent me a picture of her middle finger, but in the background, it’s her laptop showing that she purchased a jersey.

“You better move before I run you over.” I try to shut the door, but he holds it in place. “Let go.” “No, why did you leave?” My body turns ice cold, my eyes narrow into slits, and my fingers fidget on my lap, baiting me to slap the shit out of him. “I’m really tempted to commit manslaughter, so I advise you to back up.” “You mean, homicide. Manslaughter is killing someone without intending to do so.”

“I’ve no intention or desire of touching anyone that isn’t you. I’m sorry you thought I did,

I’m proud of you.”

“Grab the square, not her.”

“You look pretty.

I notice everything about you,”

I like knowing you’re mine.”