Knight Awakening (The Scorpius Syndrome Book 6)

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Then give it to me, you—”

  “Not another name. Don’t even think of calling me another insult.” He shook her for emphasis.

  “Pussy, butthead, wimp, jackass, Neanderthal, dickhead loser,” she spat out, kicking him in the knee.

  He couldn’t think. Fire swept through him, engulfing every good intention he’d ever found. For weeks he’d had his brain delved into, his thoughts and dreams, his past and pain. His mind hurt, his body ached, and his good intentions were killing him. But at least she was still secure and whole. That’s all he wanted for her. “I’m trying to keep you safe,” he growled, seeing safety rapidly disappear in the rearview mirror.

  She kicked him in the side of the thigh. Hard. “I don’t need you to keep me safe. My risks are mine to take, and you’re not smart enough to know what I need or want. Jerkwad.”

  It was the jerkwad that did it.

  He took her mouth, hard and fast. Every fear of the last few weeks, every hint of anger, every slash of pain, he poured into the kiss, taking everything he wanted. Everything he needed. Her taste, her touch, just…her. Emitting a low growl from somewhere deeper than his chest, he let the beast inside him take control.

  37

  I remember that some philosopher said that Mother Nature beat out man’s nature every single time. That philosopher definitely hadn’t met Marcus Knight.

  —Doctor Penelope Kim, Journal

  Penelope’s head smacked against the door from the force of his kiss, and she didn’t care. He was finally touching her. She dug her fingers into his clavicle, kissing him back with all the pent-up frustration she’d endured the last weeks.

  Desire took her, stronger than any other force right now.

  He tilted her head to the side with just his jaw, delving deep, all command.

  Finally, he wrenched his mouth free and leaned back. Crimson stained his high cheekbones, and his nostrils flared, giving him the look of a warrior. “You made your point. Now get your sweet ass back to your apartment and get some sleep. We can talk about this in the morning.”

  Her body ached for him with a fine edge of irritating pain. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “No.” He started to release her.

  She jerked her legs up and locked them against his hips. Then she jabbed her finger into his ribs.

  “Goddamn it, stop poking me in the fucking ribs,” he growled, fury darkening his eyes to an intriguing green not usually found in nature.

  He’d never sworn like this at her. She must be getting to him. “Then stop being a moron.”

  His breath sucked in, and somehow, his eyes darkened even more. “Enough, Penelope. Enough poking and enough name calling. You’ve pushed enough.”

  Not even close. If she had to tear apart his ribs to get him to let her in, she’d do it. He’d heal. “What are you going to do about it, monkey boy? You’re so intent on keeping me safe, even if it makes us both miserable, that I’m feeling pretty damn safe right now.”

  “Your sense of safety is misplaced,” he said, his mild tone belied by the tensing of his shoulders. “Monkey boy?”

  She was running out of insults. “I’m just getting started. I’m not afraid of you, Marcus Knight. So get over yourself.”

  “Then you’re not as smart as I thought.” His voice lowered to rough sandpaper, sexy and sure.

  The sound licked along her skin, and she fought a moan. His strength in holding her aloft turned her on even more, as did the warning in his eyes. She’d figure out the screwed-up pathology of that later. Right now, she had to get into his head, and she was close. So close. “Either you have a gun in your pocket, or you’re not unhappy to see me.”

  He didn’t smile. “I’m not messing around here. Enough.”

  If his eyes didn’t shine with lust, and if an obvious bulge of an erection wasn’t pushing against her core, she’d feel some self-doubt at the moment. But he wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and this self-sacrificing baloney of protecting her for her own good was just insulting. “You might as well knock it off. You can’t scare me away because I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” he asked silkily.

  She blinked. That tone was new. For the first time, she measured his physical strength against hers. She didn’t stand a chance against him. “No.” She lifted her chin. “You would not.”

  When he only stared at her, his body in perfect control, her temper blew. She jabbed him in the ribs, frustration coating down her throat.

  He snatched her wrists, pinning her hands on either side of her head, holding her aloft with only his groin pinning her to the door. “That’s it. You’re acting like an unbelievable brat, and the only way I know how to get you to see reason is to drop and paddle your ass until you can’t sit for weeks. Considering we’re about to travel a hell of a distance in busses, you might want to give this some serious thought.”

  That was not what she wanted. Even so, the intimacy in the threat spiraled need right to her core. “Marcus. I can’t do this anymore.” Tears filled her eyes.

  Panic filtered into his. “Don’t do that. Don’t cry. I won’t spank you.”

  “I don’t care about that.” It might even turn into sex. Finally. “I can’t fight this world without you. It’s you and me, remember? You keep pushing me away, and we’re both fighters. There’s no reason to fight alone.”

  “I don’t know what’s in my head,” he admitted, his grip still firm on her hands. “There’s too much. I’m not in control.”

  “So what?” She leaned forward and kissed him, sweeping her tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like whiskey and Marcus. Where had he found whiskey? She moaned and pressed closer, her body shooting to full arousal so fast her ears rang.

  He kissed her back, holding her against the door, so hard against her. “This is a bad idea,” he whispered against her mouth.

  “I don’t care.” She leaned down and bit his neck. Hard. He’d wear her mark for a week.

  His control snapped with a movement that made her dizzy. One second she was against the wall, and the next he’d carried her into the bedroom, taking them both down to the bed. His mouth was ferocious, his hands everywhere.

  Pleasure zipped through her, and she closed her eyes, just letting herself feel the storm he unleashed. His touch was rough, his movements strong.

  He ripped her shirt over her head, palmed her breasts, and flipped her over onto her stomach. She landed and then bounced, lifting her head.

  His thumbs tucked into her yoga pants and he jerked them down, tossing them to the corner of the room. One rough hand palmed her entire butt, and he smacked her, the sound echoing around the apartment. Pain flared through her lower half, culminating in a hot pulsing right between her legs.

  He turned her over again, his teeth sinking into her right thigh.

  She gasped. More pain spread out, mixing with the blade of desire. “Marcus.”

  “Too late, Penny. Way too late.” He dipped his head, sucking her clit into his heated mouth, his rough tongue lashing her.

  She exploded almost instantly into an orgasm that had her whispering his name, her body shaking, her breasts jiggling with the waves. She had almost come down when he pressed two fingers inside her, shooting her right back up again.

  He reached up and tweaked a nipple, sending a bite through her chest. “I can’t go back after this,” he warned, his mouth right above her mound.

  “I don’t want to go back.” Whatever they could have, she wanted to try.

  He nipped her, sending aftershocks of electricity down her thighs. “I ain’t holding back any more, Penelope.”

  Thank God. Maybe. What did that mean? Her body rioted with so much need, she couldn’t hold a thought in her head.

  She reached for him, tunneling her hands in his thick hair and pulling.

  He responded by smacking her square on the mound, his fingers clapping against her clit.

  She cried out, arching toward him, pain and pleasu
re blowing together and fuzzing her mind. Her hands dropped to the sheet.

  He did it again, and she tried to roll over, but he held her in place. “I think you’re starting to get it.” His contrasting kiss against her clit was soft and gentle.

  She held her breath.

  He kissed her again. “If we’re gonna do this, I’m in charge. Your safety is all that matters, and it’s in jeopardy with you being in my bed.” He licked her, making her legs shake against his smooth skin. “If you really want me, really want to take this risk, you’re getting all of me.”

  What had she shaken loose?

  “Marcus.” What should she say? She couldn’t think, much less find the right words. Her hands clenched into the sheet on either side of her body. “I—“

  “In or out?” he asked, his heated breath stirring her most tender parts. “Right now. No more waffling or indecision. Are you in or out here?”

  “In.” She didn’t know much, but she gave him that. There was no way she wanted to be on the outside of Marcus Knight’s world. It had hurt and been cold out there, and even with this wild passion and fully unleashed male, she wanted inside. “Definitely in.”

  “Good enough.” He flipped her over again, his hand palming her ass this time. One strong arm banded around her waist, and he jerked her to her hands and knees, leaning his powerful body over her until his mouth nipped the shell of her ear. “You’re mine, Penny. I don’t know any other way.”

  He pressed against her sex and started to push inside her.

  She swallowed, her body vibrating with a need so deep she might just implode. “Marcus.”

  He worked inside her, holding her tight, his body giving no quarter. “Give that to me. Now. Say it.”

  The pressure was so intense, her body fought them both, slowly softening and accepting him. Her ears rang and her nipples hardened until they hurt for any touch. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. He was all around her, over her, so strong and sure.

  So primal.

  Was he like this before or had Scorpius just increased this inside him? Not that it mattered. This was the Marcus Knight of now, and he was hers.

  He paused, deeper inside her than she’d thought possible. He pulsed, thick and full, his groin against hers. “Say it, Penelope.” His hand slid up, and he palmed a breast, providing some relief and yet prodding her hunger to a desperate level.

  “I’m yours, Marcus.” She had no problem with that fact, although instinct whispered a warning. But it was too late for warnings, too late for caution.

  He pulled out and powered back in her, setting up a hard and fast rhythm with no prelude. His hand curled over her entire shoulder, hauling her back to meet his powerful thrusts and keeping her from plowing into the wall. The hard slap of flesh against flesh echoed throughout the near-empty room.

  Energy corkscrewed through her with sharp talons, taking her higher than she’d ever reached.

  He was rough, he was hard, and he was all male.

  Taking her.

  No doubt, Marcus Knight was taking her, and wherever they ended up, he’d be with her. Electricity gathered into a ball inside her, blowing into a million pieces. She cried out his name, shutting her eyes, taken over by an orgasm so brilliant, she could only gasp and let it have her.

  Her arms gave out, and she fell, turning her head to land on the pillow.

  Marcus switched his hold to her hips, gripping with a strength that was unreal. He pounded, even harder, his grip absolute. Then he stilled. With a rough groan, he jerked inside her with his own release.

  Thunder rolled outside, and rain splattered against the window.

  Penelope gasped, her body satiated and her mind buzzing nicely. Marcus withdrew, nudged her to her side, and curled around her. The veins in his hand bulged as he reached down and drew the sheet up to cover them. She yawned and looked at the open window. Moonlight still lit the stormy clouds, creeping inside just enough to show rain gathering on the sill.

  He kissed the top of her head and caressed down her arm to take her hand, his strong body cradling her from behind.

  Her heart just flipped up, turned around, and flopped. Right then and there, for Marcus Knight.

  He leaned down and nuzzled her ear. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she yawned. “Are you finished with staying away from me?”

  “Apparently,” he said, the tone dry. “But it’s my way. Got it?”

  She shouldn’t, but she kind of liked the bossy side of him. He didn’t seem to care enough about most people to make an effort of introduction, much less one of possession. “Fine by me, but don’t go nuts with it.” She knew what she meant, and hopefully he’d figure it out.

  “Don’t ever call me monkey boy again, and we won’t have to worry about it.” Now amusement and a shared intimacy hinted in his tone.

  She’d have to hold that one close to her chest for a while.

  “Promise me you understand what happened here tonight,” he murmured.

  She nodded, snuggling her butt against his groin. “I understand. Promise me you’ll open yourself to falling in love with me.” Before he could remind her that he didn’t have feelings, she pressed on. “Just be open and willing. Maybe you feel love like others, maybe you don’t. Maybe your love is different, and that’s fine. All I’m asking is that you don’t stop yourself and that you be open. You can do that.”

  “Baby, I’m already open. Anything inside me, you can have. No holding back.” He threaded his fingers through hers.

  She had words she wanted to say, but she wasn’t ready. Or maybe he wasn’t ready. She closed her eyes, ready to fall into sleep.

  He rolled her onto her back, pressing against her. “Oh, we’re not sleeping yet.”

  She perked up. “We’re not?”

  “Not a chance. It’s been a rotten two weeks without you.” He proceeded to show her exactly how much better the next two would be.

  Hopefully.

  38

  Hello, other shoe. When are you going to drop?

  —Doctor Penelope Kim, Journal

  “Okay. Take that box to the second storage bus,” Penelope ordered, pointing to another box of bandages.

  “Sure thing.” Byron hefted that and two more boxes to head out the front door of the clinic, his boots light on the worn tile.

  Lynne carried out two more bins of her lab equipment and notebooks. “I think I might actually miss this place.” Without waiting for an answer, she followed Byron, only tripping once. The scientist had been obsessive about making sure her research was exactly where she wanted for the trip north. It was nice to see Lynne Harmony act a little looney, for once. She was always so put together.

  Penelope grinned and poked her head in Vinnie’s office, where Lena was helping to pack all of the office supplies. The little girl’s blond hair was up in a ponytail, and a purple kitten had been embroidered on her small shirt. “How’s it going?”

  Lena gave her a thumbs-up and didn’t look away from the sticky notepads she was putting in order of color in one bin.

  Penelope turned back to her office, still having a couple of drawers to empty. Jax was serious about getting on the road at first light, and the entire camp had devolved into chaos during the day of packing. It reminded Penelope of one of the many times she’d helped somebody in her family move residences. A lot of people giving orders and stuff getting lost. No wonder Lynne was packing her research herself.

  Penelope picked up a pink laundry basket and walked toward her desk. She had to figure out a way to hide the bourbon she’d been storing for a while. It was her stash, and she was okay with that.

  “Hey.” Larry stood in the doorway. “Jax sent me to help with the heavy stuff. We’re not going to be able to take the safe, but once we’re settled, we’ll find one close by to haul. There will be one in a home or business. Don’t worry.” His blue eyes were earnest and his blond hair had grown out even more. He smiled.

  She returned the smile. Had she given him
a fair chance for friendship? Everything had been so up in the air with Marcus that she’d only had the mental bandwidth to deal with him. Thank goodness they were finally on the same page, and Larry had been a perfect gentleman while guarding the clinic for the last several weeks. She’d never made an effort with him. “Did you surf, Larry?”

  He chuckled. “No. I grew up in South Dakota, actually. I just look like I should surf.” He looked around. “Where’s Lynne? Jax wanted me to see if she was finished with their personal belongings in their quarters.”

  “She took a couple of boxes out front.” Penelope still needed to finish with her apartment.

  Larry turned toward the storage room. “Do you want me to take any of those boxes? Are they ready?”

  “The two on the right are ready, but I have room in the other three still.” Penelope ran through the schematics of the vehicles. “The first two go in the blue truck with the yellow license plates.”

  “I can do that.” He stepped away and into the storage room.

  A crackle hissed from his pants.

  Penelope chuckled instantly. Then she sobered. Wait a minute.

  Larry’s smile disappeared. “Well, shit.”

  She blinked. “What was that?” It had been a crackle. Some sort of radio? Nobody should have a radio right now. Who was he corresponding with? Oh, God, this was bad. She opened her mouth to yell, and he lifted a small pistol from his pocket.

  “Not a word. I have no problem shooting that little girl in Vinnie’s office,” he whispered, still looking like a damn surfer.

  She looked frantically around for anybody. Lynne would be back in a second, unless she’d decided to reorganize the truck holding her research materials. Totally possible. “There is no way out of here for you,” she whispered, looking for a way to get Lena to safety.

  Larry grabbed her arm, setting the small gun in her ribs before turning her toward the back door. “Don’t let size fool you, Doc Penelope. This is a Glock G42 nestled against your rib cage, and it’d destroy your innards if I fire it. So we’re going to calmly walk out the back door. In fact, keep that basket in your hands.” He reached down and snagged a box for him to carry with his free hand. “If anybody asks, we’re getting more supplies from the back medical warehouse.”