I recently unearthed this deleted sex scene from Knight (An Impossible Novel). I love it, but it ended up getting cut because there were just *too many* sex scenes in the last third of the book. This takes place after the *Tucker Incident*, when Lydia and Smith are in the safe house in Chicago. We get a little bit of sexy Clayton in this scene as well. Enjoy!
Master didn’t bother to muffle my sharp cry as he drove into me. He had allowed me a brief respite that afternoon, but he decided to sate his hunger for my body once again after dinner. We had been taking full advantage of the privacy of the apartment; neither of us had worn a stitch of clothing since breakfast. I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week, but I didn’t care.
Now, my body was bent over the arm of the couch, Master anchoring me in place for him with one hand gripping my hip and the other snared in my hair.
My heart stopped at the sound of the apartment door clicking open. I craned my head back to glance around Master’s powerful body. Clayton was standing in the doorway, his expression betraying nothing more than mild surprise.
“Hey, Clayton,” Master said casually, never stopping his steady thrusting. “I’m a little busy right now. I’ll be with you in a while. There’s beer in the fridge, if you want.”
“Master!” I protested. My efforts to squirm out of his grip were laughably ineffective.
I gasped as he gave a sharp jerk on my hair, forcibly redirecting my gaze.
“Eyes forward, sub,” he ordered evenly.
My cheeks burned, and my fingers scrabbled against the cushions as I struggled to escape him, to flee into the bedroom and bury my face in the pillows until my embarrassment subsided.
Stinging pain bloomed across my ass as his hand cracked across it. Truthfully, it barely hurt, but he had never stuck me before, and the sharp sound was shocking.
His fingers found the curve of my hip again, digging into my flesh as he reinforced my utter helplessness in his strong hold.
I whimpered and stopped fighting, giving in.
“Good girl.” He tenderly stroked my back, rewarding me for my good behavior.
To my horror, my inner muscles fluttered around him as my embarrassment doubled. His soft laugh was pure masculine satisfaction. I could almost feel him taking note of my exhibitionist streak and filing it away for later use.
“I’m still on the clock,” Clayton informed Master. “I’ll make a Starbucks run while you finish up. Do you want anything?”
My eyes flew wide at Clayton’s casual remarks. I had thought he was such a nice guy, but he evidently had no problem playing into Master’s cruel game.
“My usual, please,” Master responded as he reached around and tweaked my pulsing clit. I couldn’t hold back my humiliating cry of pleasure as I contracted around his cock once again. My arousal at the situation was undeniable.
No one bothered to ask what I wanted. It was as though I wasn’t even there. I was just an object, an amusing diversion for Master’s pleasure.
The thought made my pussy burn hotter than my cheeks.
A strange whine escaped me at the sound of the door clicking closed behind Clayton.
Surely I wasn’t… disappointed
that Clayton had left?
Master’s hand stroked me again, soothing this time. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll fuck you in front of Clayton some other time.” He chuckled as I clenched around him helplessly. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? I would too. I’d like to take my sub to a club and fuck her in front of everyone. I’ll strap her down and show her off.” His voice turned rougher, darker. “Show everyone what’s mine.”
There was pressure against my asshole, and I drew in a sharp breath as his thumb slowly penetrated me. His fist tightened in my hair, pulling back. I arched in response, and my ass pushed back to accept more of him without my volition.
“Yes, Master,” I gasped out. “Yours.”
His low growl was savagely pleased. He began to pound into me in earnest, his ruthless thrusts alternating with his rapidly pumping thumb. I flew over the edge with an ecstatic scream, and stars burst across my darkened vision as he came inside me, bellowing out his own pleasure.
Yours, Master. All yours.