Chapter 16: Ruby - Keeping Knight

This is another thing I used to think only happened in books.

I would read about it in the romance novels I’d edit—the strong, handsome, muscly hero effortlessly carrying the heroine off to the bedroom, with nary a bead of sweat in sight. He’d often say something along the lines of her not weighing more than a feather. Or that she weighed less than what he lifted during his workouts.

I never liked those descriptions much. What if the heroine weighed more than the proverbial feather? Did that mean she didn’t deserve to be swept off her feet, too?

So I guess I might have been biased against the whole hero carrying his woman off to the bedroom theme. I can walk there on my own, thank you very much, I used to think. I don’t need to be carried.

But that was before Micah. Before I discovered that men actually do carry women around. Or at least, my man does. And I guess those romance authors know what they’re talking about, because it’s a heck of a lot sexier than I ever imagined.

There’s just something about being held in his arms, feeling the play of his muscles as he carries me, looking up at him to see this intense yet tender expression in his gaze, and knowing without question that he’ll never drop me.

When Micah carries me, I feel protected. Desired. Treasured.

Oh, and he doesn’t mention my weight. So that’s a plus, too.

As soon as Micah reaches the second floor of the condo, he lifts me higher against his chest and picks up his pace. “I need a smaller place,” he mutters.

“A smaller place?” I readjust my arm around his neck. “Why?”

“Because it takes too long to get to the bedroom,” he replies. “And it’s just…” He frowns. “It’s just too big. That’s all.”

“Okay.” I don’t care what size Micah’s condo is. “If you want a smaller place, I bet you could find some cool studios. Or a one-bedroom. Something with vaulted ceilings, and maybe some exposed brick. That would be nice. Ooh, or what about a loft? You could use that for an office.”

Micah pushes his bedroom door open with his foot and hurries inside. Then he crosses the room to the king-sized bed and carefully lays me down on top of it. He gazes down at me with an amused smile. “If you’d prefer, we can look at real estate listings.”

All it takes is a quick look at Micah’s bared and muscly chest to get my mind off real estate and back to more important things. Namely, having sex with him after weeks of fantasizing. Giving myself a quick mental scolding—who cares about stupid condos, I tell myself, when the sexiest man in the world wants to have sex with me—I say, “Oh, no. Real estate listings can wait.”

“Okay.” Micah’s smile fades as his gaze moves across my body. His eyes darken. A hungry expression tightens his features. “Good.”

While I watch, he takes his shirt off and drops it to the floor, revealing an expanse of sleek muscle. As he moves, the tattoo on his chest ripples. His abs flex.

And oh, what abs he has. “How many situps do you do each day?” I blurt.

Micah pauses midway through unfastening his pants. “What?”

Why did I ask him that now? “Nevermind.”

He pulls his pants off and steps out of them, leaving him only in a pair of tight black briefs that leave pretty much nothing to the imagination. “Situps? Combined, probably two hundred. But I do different kinds.” Then he flashes me a wolfish smile. “Why? Do you think I should do more?”

“Oh, no. I think that’s plenty.” I steal a glance at my very average, ab-less stomach. Before my life went all crazy, I used to use the little walking treadmill in my office. And when I was feeling stressed, I’d use a yoga app. But my workouts were nothing like what Micah does every day.

“Ruby.” Micah climbs onto the bed and lifts me to my knees. Then he lifts the hem of my sweater and starts peeling it off. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Have I mentioned that?”

“Maybe I should do some situps. And learn how to do those crazy pullups, like you do.”

“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?”

My belly flutters. My core squeezes. “Yes.”

Micah’s gaze flares hot and hungry. “Good.” Then he begins peeling off my pants.

It takes longer than I expected, because he keeps stopping to kiss the bits of bare skin revealed. He traces the patterns of freckles with his tongue. His hands are all over me, exploring. Memorizing by touch.

All through it, I keep touching him. Stroking him. Imagining how he’ll feel inside me.

It seems like it takes hours to get naked, but also no time at all. Time loses meaning when I’m with Micah. It’s like we exist only in our own little bubble.

When I’m fully exposed, I find myself waiting for a surge of insecurity that never comes. Micah makes it impossible to feel self-conscious. Not when he looks at me like he can’t quite believe I’m real.

A little romance for your reading break.

Browse romance novels on Lokepub.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes. I want you.”

“Shit,” Micah breathes. “I want to take my time with you. But you’re so damn beautiful…” Rolling onto his back, he lifts me, then sets me on top of him. “Damn, Ruby. Seeing you like this.” He strokes his palm down my chest, from my collarbone to my belly. “It’s beyond anything I imagined.”

“Seeing you like this is pretty incredible, too,” I reply, which is actually a massive understatement. Between his muscles and his strong features and his piercing blue eyes, Micah is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, both in real life and in the movies. But it’s not just how he looks. It’s everything about Micah that’s making me fall for him.

Setting his hands on my hips, he adjusts me so I’m straddling him. His erection nudges at my center, and I feel myself opening for him. “I thought we could start this way,” he says. “I think it’ll be better for you. Unless you’d prefer⁠—”

Without thinking—probably because I’m so desperate to feel him inside me right now, my body has decided to take over—I rock my hips, so he slips slightly inside ‌me.

And oh.

Oh.

A little voice in the back of my head pipes up. Protection. You need protection first.

But my body doesn’t want to listen. It knows what it wants, and it’s not interested in waiting.

Micah grimaces. “Shit. Protection.”

I glance around me, as if a condom is going to magically appear out of nowhere. “Do you have anything?”

“Yes.” He moves me off him, then reaches into his nightstand to pull out a strip of condoms. Opening one of them, he tosses the wrapper aside and quickly rolls the condom on. With a smile, he settles me back in position again. “I bought them last week. Just in case.”

Using Micah’s chest for balance, I notch him at my center. “Just in case, huh?”

He grabs hold of my butt and pulls me forward, just enough so he’s barely inside me. “Just in case.”

Slowly, I lower myself onto him. “Good thing you’re prepared.”

“Always,” he replies, “when it comes to protecting you.”

As I take Micah inside me, my body stretches around him. It’s been a while, so there’s a tiny bite of pain, but it’s quickly absorbed by the pleasure surging through me. Heat unfurls in my belly and radiates out. My inner walls flutter. My heart races.

“Ruby.” Micah grasps my hips as he leans up to kiss me. “Ah, shit, you feel so good.”

The change in angle sends him deeper inside me. My breath catches. “Micah.”

He reaches between us and finds that little bundle of nerves at my center. First, he caresses it. Then he gives it a tiny pinch. “How does that feel, sweetheart?”

It takes me a few seconds to compose an answer among the fragments of thoughts bouncing in my head. It feels amazing. Breath-stealing. Beyond anything I’ve read in books.

“Perfect,” I finally settle on. “It’s perfect.”

Micah presses hard on my little bud as he thrusts his hips up. Sparks of pleasure erupt into fireworks. The fire licking across my skin turns into an inferno. I rock against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. My breath comes faster. My inner muscles squeeze hard.

We move faster. Harder. Our bodies collide together. Micah’s fingers dig into my hips. My nails drag down his chest.

Micah lifts me, pulling me almost off ‌him before slamming me back down. His mouth comes to my breast, and he takes my nipple between his lips. I arch towards him, moaning, “Oh, more, please. More.”

More of what? His mouth on me? His hands? Do I want him even deeper inside me?

I want all of it. With Micah, I want everything.

Ecstasy teases me; maddeningly close. But I need more.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Micah asks. His gaze burns into mine. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Everything,” I blurt. “Just… more of you. Deeper. I need to feel you everywhere.”

Fire ignites in his eyes. “Ah, Rue. I can do that.”

And he does.

His hands and mouth are all over me. Touching. Stroking. Kissing. Leaving tiny pink marks on my skin like he’s claiming me. He pulls me forward, so I’m leaning over him, and he thrusts hard, plunging deeper inside me.

And that’s when the fuse catches.

A spark that sizzles through me, ready to light me aflame.

My body locks up as ecstasy takes over everything. My eyes slam shut and my vision goes white. My core convulses around Micah, clutching at him. Claiming him. A guttural cry like nothing I’ve heard before spills out of me.

In the midst of my orgasm, Micah flips me over and drives into me. He’s wild. Insatiable. I pry my eyes open so I can look at him, and the emotion in his gaze steals my breath.

“Shit, Rue. Shit.” His chest has a sheen of perspiration. His cheeks are flushed, and his hair tumbles over his forehead. “Shit, you feel⁠—”

Then he comes, going impossibly hard as he lets out a rough shout.

As I feel him pulse inside me, a flicker of a thought appears. How would it feel without protection? How would it feel if Micah was filling me with his seed?

I think I’d like it, I realize. I think I’d like it a lot.

Even as Micah is still twitching inside me, he rolls us over again so I’m on top. Then he drags the comforter over us, bundling us together. His arms come around me. His lips press to the top of my head.

Unexpectedly, my eyes sting. Not because I’m sad. But because this was even more than I ever thought it could be.

“Ruby,” he murmurs. “Ah, Rue.” He strokes my back, sending shivers of pleasure through me. “Was that okay for you? I hope I wasn’t too rough.”

I tuck my head under his chin. “You weren’t.”

His hand stills on my back. “And the other part?”

Lifting my head to look at him, I reply, “Do you even have to ask?”

His gaze turns earnest. “I want to make sure.”

“It was way more than okay, then. At least for me, it was. What about you?”

Micah cups my cheek. His expression softens. “It was incredible, Ruby. It put all my fantasies to shame.”

“All your fantasies?” A smile tugs at my lips. “How many times have you fantasized about this?”

Micah chuckles. “I couldn’t begin to tell you. A lot of times.”

“Me too,” I admit. “Every night, and⁠—”

But I’m interrupted by a large weight landing on the bed, sending the mattress rocking. Turning my head, I find Sampson standing beside us, his head cocked and his ears pricked up. As soon as he sees me looking at him, he starts panting, and he gives me a happy, puppy-dog smile.

Micah chuckles again. “I guess someone got lonely.”

I snake one hand out from beneath the comforter to scratch between Sampson’s ears. “I guess he did.”

“Hey Sampson,” Micah says. “Decided you want some attention?”

Sampson lets out a small woof of agreement.

“Sounds like a yes,” I say.

“It does,” Micah agrees. Then he kisses me. “How about this? I’ll let Sampson out, then we can have a snack. Unless you’d rather go straight to bed.”

“I like the snack idea. But how about after that, we do this”—I squeeze my inner muscles around him—“again?”

Still inside me, Micah twitches. Swells. “I’m definitely up for doing this again.”