Knight's Dominion (Knights of Hell Book 4)

by Sherilee Gray

  Chaos dipped his head and drew in her scent again, he couldn’t get enough of it. She was covered in fuck knew what from the filthy alley floor, but her scent was stronger, and the vibrations of her power were like a siren’s song designed only for him, drawing him closer, making him weaker and stronger at the same time.

  Grace was his.

  The idea of finding a mate had terrified him for centuries…and yeah, a lot about the whole mating thing still did. But fuck, it was like a limb or some vital organ—a piece of his goddamn brain—had been missing, and he hadn’t even known it until now.

  With Grace he could feel whole, for the first time in his life.

  He landed on the balcony of the control room and was thankful when he found it empty. He strode through, out into the hall, and took the stairs down to the next level, where their living quarters were located. Grace had lost a lot of blood. She needed food and rest, time to heal.

  “She okay?” Laz asked, coming out of nowhere.

  Chaos shook his head. “Keep looking for the beast. I want any updates you have, otherwise I’m not to be disturbed.” He strode into his apartment, kicked the door shut behind him, and throwing out a hand compelled the lock to slide home.

  Grace stirred as he carried on through to the en suite bathroom. Dirt and grime covered her. Her pale blond hair was streaked with filth, and the scratches on her thigh needed to be cleaned. There was also an underlying scent of demon on her skin. Chaos needed to wash that off because every time his own demon smelled the venious who clawed her, he wanted to kill it. And since the fucker was already dead, that was causing some serious problems.

  She was also cold, so fucking cold, and he needed to warm her up.

  He carefully lowered her to her feet, but her knees buckled, which meant the shower was out. Holding her to him carefully, he turned on the water to fill the tub.

  “Grace?”

  Her eyes opened, lids heavy, mahogany eyes dull. “So cold,” she whispered.

  Fuck. “I know, angel. I’m gonna warm you up.”

  He grabbed the bottle of heavy-duty painkillers he had for when he was seriously injured and sat on the bathroom floor, cradling her to him. He gave her one. He usually took two or three, but he was a lot bigger than her and also immortal.

  When he was satisfied she’d swallowed it, he stripped off her shirt and bra. Next her leather jeans. He was working them down her long legs when she whimpered. That sound of pain distressed him in a way he’d never experienced in his life. He sure as hell couldn’t bear to cause her more of it.

  Sliding the knife free from his boot, he carefully cut the jeans from her body. The pants were already destroyed, so he didn’t think she’d care. He cut off her underwear as well, then realized he’d have to get in the water with her or she’d fucking drown.

  He kicked off his boots and managed to get his shirt off while holding her. But his jeans, covered in demon blood and fuck knew what else, were a no-go. Reluctantly, he laid her on a towel, his gut clenching when she curled into a ball, shivering. She was pale, so delicate and fragile he couldn’t fucking take it.

  Stripping quickly, he turned off the water, scooped her onto his arms, and climbed into the massive tub with her. He rested her between his legs, against his chest. She hissed when the water hit her wound, and he winced, feeling fucking ill that he was causing her pain but knowing there was no other choice. This was the best way to clean out the scratches, to warm her up.

  She thrashed in his arms until the pain obviously eased. She was barely conscious, and still she shivered almost uncontrollably.

  He sunk down lower in the water so she was submerged to the base of her throat, willing it to warm her. Chaos held her like that for a long time, until the shivers fucking finally subsided.

  It wasn’t long after that she went rigid in his arms.

  “Don’t freak out,” he said against her ear when he thought she was about to try and stand. “You lost a lot of blood, you were freezing and I needed to clean your wound.”

  “And you needed to be n-naked for that?” she said, voice raspy, no doubt from her screams.

  “We were both covered in blood and you couldn’t support your own weight.”

  She was silent for several long seconds. “Right. Well, thanks…for this, then, b-but I need to…” One of her hands went to the edge of the tub, attempting to climb out, but she was still too weak.

  He tugged her back against him, not ready to let her go, even though he knew he needed to. “For once stop fighting me and let me do my job.”

  She tensed again. “What job is that?”

  I’m your male, it’s my job to take care of you in every way I can. To fulfill all your needs, to provide your comfort. He ignored the words ringing through his skull and said instead, “I’m a knight. Looking after demi is what I was born to do.”

  “And how many demi have you stripped naked and climbed into a tub with lately?” she said, her voice gaining strength and teeth no longer chattering.

  He grinned. “Just the one.”

  More silence, then, “Okay, I’m just gonna say it. There’s no point ignoring the elephant in the room…well, there’s no ignoring its”—she wriggled against him—“trunk anyway.”

  He choked, then cringed. “Grace…”

  “I’ve heard the rumors. The effect a knight’s er…female has on him, especially when they first meet.”

  “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Yeah, he did, and he was currently fighting it like hell. Not that fighting it seemed to be working. She’d obviously felt his raging hard-on against her back, it was impossible to miss. But he didn’t want her to think he was some creep or an animal that couldn’t control itself. “Ignore it.”

  “Seriously?”

  He cleared his throat. “We’re naked and wet in a tub together. Any male would be hard. You have nothing to fear from me. I am actually capable of controlling myself.”

  More silence, and he noticed she didn’t try to pull away.

  “Chaos…we need to talk about what happened out there,” she finally said.

  “We will,” he agreed as he encouraged her to tilt her head back so he could wet her hair thoroughly. He ran his hands through the soft strands, then started lathering it with soap since the shampoo was in the shower and there was no way he was moving from this spot.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, sounding confused and a little shocked.

  “Washing your hair. There’s dirt in it from the alley.” And not touching her right then was an impossibility.

  “You don’t need to do that…I can wash my own…” She tried to face him and whimpered again.

  He cursed. “You’re injured, in pain, and you stink like alley and demon. So just this fucking once, would you stop fighting me.”

  She grumbled something but did as he asked. She didn’t relax against him fully like she had before, and he found he missed it.

  What a fucking mess. Everything, all of this.

  But it also felt so damn right.

  He worked the soap into her hair, massaging her scalp with his fingers since there was grime along her hairline as well.

  She resisted, holding herself away for a while longer, but in the end, she gave in and relaxed. He knew it was because she was weak from blood loss, but his demon started purring again, fucking thrilled at her closeness, that she was letting them take care of her.

  Chaos tried hard to ignore the silkiness of her skin against his, how pale she looked against him, how small, the way her scent had grown stronger, filling his head, making him dizzy, like he was the one who’d lost blood.

  He’d gotten his dick somewhat under control, until he gently scooted her down the bath so she could tilt her head back in the water and rinse off the soap. Over her shoulder, he could see her nipples just below the surface of the water. He swallowed, watching as the necklace she wore slid across her chest—no
t another male’s diamonds—but two rings, both gold.

  He wanted to ask about them but didn’t think she’d welcome his questions, so instead he worked his fingers through the silken length of her hair, supporting the back of her neck with his other hand, massaging lightly.

  She moaned.

  It wasn’t pain, it was all pleasure, and his body responded instantly. It didn’t help that her long hair was kind of tickling his balls.

  When Grace slid back up, her cheeks darkened. The female actually blushed.

  Whether it was because of her response to his hands on her or to his physical reaction to her feeling pleasure, he had no idea, but there was nothing he could do about his cock now. Not with Grace pressed against him.

  “Ignore it,” he said again roughly, as he began running the soap over her shoulders, trying and failing to do what he was asking her to. Not easy when his throbbing cock was aching for her so badly his mind kept throwing up images of him cupping her ass and lifting so he could slide inside her.

  There was no getting his dick back under control now.

  She made a sound, a mix of astonishment and humor. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  “Try harder,” he said, oddly amused himself, despite the pain he was in.

  “Your dick feels like it’s pointing at me, like it’s accusing me of something,” she said, and her head lolled to the side.

  A laugh burst from him. “What?”

  “Why is your dick angry at me, Chaos?” she said, teasing and sounding drowsy. The painkiller he gave her was finally kicking in, and going by how out of it she suddenly seemed, he probably should have gone with half, not a whole one. “Doesn’t surprise me. Your dick is as arrogant as you. Heh.” She giggled.

  “You think my dick’s arrogant?” She was funny and relaxed, and he wanted more.

  “It probably scowls like you, too. Can penises scowl? I bet yours can.”

  She turned suddenly, easier, her side now to his front and she looked down at him through the soapy water. Trying to see his penis scowling? Yep, she was totally out of it now.

  “I can’t see,” she said, frowning, then giggled again. “Maybe I can—”

  Her fingers wrapped around him under the water. He jolted and hissed.

  She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Yep, it feels angry, too.” Then giggled some more.

  “Fucking hell.” Her fingers gripped him tight, and he was ashamed to admit that he was close to coming.

  He reached down to dislodge her hand, but it slid lower, then back up, and his eyes rolled back in his head from the pleasure of it. When he finally managed to open his eyes again, she was looking up at him with that wide-eyed stare again.

  “I thought it must be, but damn, it really is,” she whispered.

  “What?” he whispered back.

  “Big. It’s really fucking big, Chaos.”

  He quickly pulled her hand away before he disgraced himself. He stood, taking her with him. “Okay, time for sleep.”

  Grace shook her head. “No, I’m not tired. I need to go home.”

  He threw a towel over her and carried her from the bathroom.

  She was out cold before he reached the bed.

  Laying her down, he quickly dried her and tugged one of his shirts over her head, covering her naked body.

  She wasn't going anywhere, not while she was so vulnerable, not until she’d fully recovered.

  Maybe not even then.

  Chapter 12

  Chaos couldn’t make himself move, hadn’t left her side in three hours. He wanted to dress her wounds, but he also didn’t want to disturb her. Grace needed her sleep. So he’d sat frozen beside her, his mind in turmoil, not sure what to do. Wanting desperately to look after her, yet knowing that whatever he did would cause her some kind of pain or discomfort.

  He’d lost his fucking mind. Obviously.

  He should be demanding answers from her. For instance, what the fuck had happened back in that alley? And he didn’t mean the simple answers, like why she engaged a demon with no backup, or even the fact that she was his mate and she chose to keep that from him. What he really wanted to know was what the fuck that power was she’d used on him before throwing him clean across the alley.

  Grace was full of secrets, and he wanted to know them all. Every last one.

  She stirred and he was drawn closer, watching…fascinated by every subtle movement, the way her breathing had quickened, lips parting slightly. Her lashes were thick half-moons on her smooth cheeks, and they trembled before her eyes finally opened.

  Rich brown irises locked on him and knocked the wind from his lungs.

  She sat bolt upright and they narrowly avoided cracking skulls. He reached out to steady her and she brushed his hand away, her eyes on him but unseeing for several seconds.

  “Grace?”

  He saw the moment it all snapped back into place, what happened, where she was, why she was with him?

  She shoved her hair back. “What time is it?”

  “Four in the morning.”

  Grace looked down at herself and frowned at his shirt that she was wearing, then looked back at him. “Have you been sitting there the whole time?”

  “Yes.”

  Her chin jerked back. “Why?”

  Because I couldn’t make myself leave your side. Because all I wanted to do was climb in bed with you and feel you against me. He shrugged, then stood. “Waiting for you to wake so I could dress your wounds.”

  He forced himself to leave her and grabbed the first-aid kit from the bathroom.

  She eyed him warily when he walked back in, which pissed him off. No, he had no right to feel that way. He hadn’t exactly worked to build her trust, had undermined and berated her every chance he got. Public relations weren’t his strong suit. As far as he’d been concerned, Grace was getting in the way of him doing his job and putting herself at risk every time she went out in the field.

  He’d been wrong, of course. She was a skilled fighter, determined, relentless. He’d just been too stubborn to see it.

  Her eyes narrowed and hardened at his scrutiny. “I got injured, it happens. I’m sure you’ve been injured a million times, so don’t you even think about telling me not to fight.”

  He shook his head and dropped to his knees on the floor beside the bed, flicking back the covers to get to her injured leg. “I won’t get in your way, not anymore,” he said, even as his instincts screamed at him to keep her locked safely in his room and never let her out of his sight. But Grace was a warrior. Who was he to stop her if she wanted to fight? “You have every right to defend the demi in this city. I’m sorry I didn’t see your side of things sooner.”

  Grace stared at him, astonishment written all over her face. “The catch?”

  “No catch. You were right. We need to work together, knights and demi. It’s the only way we can win this war. I know that now.”

  It felt wrong even saying it. But he had no right to lock her up and hide her from the world, no matter how he might want to.

  “I’m not mating with you, Chaos,” she said into the heavy silence.

  “I know,” he rasped, even as it cut him to the quick. He had no right to ask that of her, either. After the way he’d treated her, the things he’d said, he wasn’t surprised she’d hidden who she was, that she would reject him.

  Though, right then it didn’t matter that they weren’t mated, he needed to take care of her.

  "Lie down, Grace."

  "Whoa. Hold up. I’m not sleeping with you, either.”

  He deserved that, too. She didn’t trust him, not one bit. “I want to tend to your injuries, that’s all.”

  It was a lie, of course, he wanted inside her, to feel her wet heat wrapped around him so badly he throbbed from it, his blood so hot and thick with lust he burned and ached all over. But she'd made it clear that wasn't going to happen, and he'd have to find a way to live with it.

  “Just get me something to wear, my leg’s fine
.” She glanced down at her ravaged flesh, getting a good look at it for the first time and winced.

  “Will you let me help you?” he said, close to begging.

  She let out an agitated breath and nodded, reluctantly.

  Thank fuck.

  “Roll onto your stomach.” The worst of it was on the side and back of her left thigh, and though he’d cleaned it, it would still need antiseptic to prevent an infection.

  Her long legs were smooth, her muscle definition proof of her commitment to her training, and he guessed the dancing didn't hurt, either. He knew she wasn’t wearing underwear and the urge to tug up the shirt and bite into that firm, pert little ass was so strong he groaned.

  Grace glanced over her shoulder. “All right?”

  No, I’m not inside you. He dipped his chin and crawled onto the bed, straddling her just above the knees, to keep her still. This would hurt. The cuts he’d been forced to make were deep.

  Who was he kidding? The position wasn't necessary. Grace could handle whatever he was about to do, but it turned out he was a glutton for punishment. He needed to be close to her. Had to be. Fuck, his dick was rock hard and the heat of her body seeping through his jeans wasn't helping one damn bit.

  "Are they bad?" she asked, voice nothing but a husky whisper.

  "You'll live." He carefully applied the antiseptic.

  She hissed. “You saved my ass out there."

  He could think of a few other things he'd like to do with her ass and bit back another groan. “If you hadn’t called in your location…if he'd managed to get the upper hand—”

  She stiffened and growled, and her body jerked beneath him. "Who the hell’s fault is that? If you didn't give sanctuary to every demon that gave you puppy-dog eyes, this wouldn't have happened in the first place."

  He was so turned on, he almost missed what she'd said. "We’d never give sanctuary to a Venious demon. They’re flesh eaters. Their nature will never change.”

  She made a scoffing sound, suddenly on the defensive. “You expect me to believe that bullshit? If you're not letting them in, then obviously, you need to up your game. Demons are crawling all over this city. How many do you let by when the portal opens?”