Fighting Mr. Knight: A Billionaire Office Romance (The London Mister Series Book 3)

Fighting Mr. Knight: Chapter 40



One week later

The sun shines through the slits in the electric blinds.

My body clock has synced with Jack’s and now I can’t sleep past five. Or perhaps it’s something to do with the massive bulge pushing against my ass every morning.

I can tell by his laboured breathing that he’s still sleeping.

I writhe my ass against him, and he groans in his sleep, his cock pulsing against my lower back. A muscular forearm tightens around my stomach.

A giggle escapes me. The guy has Big Dick Energy even when he’s sleeping.

He stirs behind me, his chest heaving into my back.

“Morning, darlin’,” he says against my neck.

I feel his teeth against my skin and know there’s a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Morning,” I say breathlessly.

Will I ever get used to waking up with Jack spooning me? I hope not.

I clear my throat, trying to sound awake. “Are you getting up to go to the gym?”

“No need,” he murmurs against my ear. “I can work out right here.” The hand that is settled on my lower stomach slides down into my thong.

“Jack—” I gasp as he strokes slow tortuous circles on my clit, still sensitive from last night.  “We’ve literally just woken up.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been dreaming about you all night,” he rumbles grumpily behind me.

I feel his hands move my thong to the side as his cock presses impatiently against my slit.

“Open, darlin’. Let me in.”

My thighs part to let him in. I close my eyes and squeeze the pillow as the tip of his cock nudges my entrance. No matter how many times we do this, I’m always as nervous as I am excited.

With his freakishly long dick and the number of werewolf books I’m reading, I’m half expecting Jack to shapeshift with the next growl.

“Relax, Bonnie.” He chuckles, interrupting my crazed mind. “Stop holding your breath.”

I release the breath I was holding as he nudges my legs wider with his knee and slides his cock inside me.

I’m wide awake now, adrenaline pumping through me.

His fingers continue to stroke my clit with just the right pressure as he slides in and out of me.

It’s a slow, lazy fuck as we haven’t properly woken up yet.

“This angle,” he grunts into my hair. “So deep.” Cursing, he thrusts into the deepest spot in my core again and again.

I could come just listening to Jack’s groans.

The man is an excellent multitasker yet all I’m capable of is moaning into the pillow.

I’ll never get used to this.

My core quivers and tingles with pleasure as his thrusts become more urgent.

His fingers lose their rhythm on my clit as he comes apart.

“Bonnie,” he groans into my hair as he comes hard inside me.

That voice. His cockney accent gets gruffer and thicker when he’s turned on.

I’m done for. I shatter seconds later, squeezing his cock.

My back arches with the force of my orgasm and my legs shake like a freaking woman possessed.

I collapse face-first into the pillow.

“Turn around,” Jack says gruffly. “I need to see your beautiful face.”

Blissfully, I turn to face him.

“I’m the luckiest man alive.” He grins lazily at me, his face inches from mine. “I get to see you first thing in the morning, last thing at night and when I’m sitting in the middle of a fucking ridiculous board meeting.”

“Uh, actually.” I prop myself up on his chest and smile sheepishly down at him. “In a few weeks you won’t see me when you’re in the boardroom.” I swallow thickly, suddenly nervous. “I’m quitting today. I’m telling you first before Max and Bradshaw Brown.”

“Don’t be silly,” he says gruffly. He widens his legs to let mine rest in between them. “Everything’s fine in the office. Nobody passes any remarks on us.” He winces. “Besides the threesome story with us and Michelle Allard.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not that. I’ve learnt not to give a shit about rumours. And for the record, if we were to have a threesome it would be a reverse harem for me.”

He slaps my ass, annoyed. “I don’t share.”

“I mean it, Jack,” I say, steering him back to the original conversation. “I’m handing in my notice today.”

He studies me with a frown. “I thought you were happy.”

“I am happy. But it’s not about the factory or you.” I sigh. “For years I’ve been hanging off Max’s coattails. It took what happened to open my eyes to see that Bradshaw Brown isn’t the best place for me. The partners don’t give a shit and I’m sick of coming second in a boys’ club. They actually started talking to me this week.” I snort. “You know why? Because of you.”

I don’t mention that Max is being so passive aggressive after the relationship reveal that I can’t stand coming into work.

“They are two jackasses.” His jaw flexes. “I’ll sort it.”

“No, Jack,” I cut in quickly, running a finger down to his jaw to relax him. “I’ve been offered an opportunity. You remember the architect I talked to when we went for drinks? Adrian? You probably don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” I feel his chest tighten under me. “He was flirting with you. You gave him your number.”

“He wasn’t. He got me in contact with a design company.” I pause, biting my lips to hide my grin. “Do you know Lauren Torres?”

“Of course, I do.” He looks at me confused then his brows rise.

I smile. Lauren Torres is one of the most prolific architects in Europe. She’s also one of the world’s leading female architects. “I’ve been offered a job at her company. They have offices in London and Paris.”

And it’s a package that left me salivating. Not because of the cash, as good as it is, but because I feel like I can go places there. They’re taking over my sponsorship for the conservation training and a hell of a lot more.

His expression softens. “Then I’m happy for you, darlin’. I like having you close to me at work. I’m a selfish bastard.” He pulls me in for a kiss. “But I want you to be happy and follow your dreams.”

“I’m glad you said that.”

Fuck, how am I’m going to say this?

I have to do this. I’ll look back with regret if I don’t. If it’s meant to be between Jack and me, then it’s meant to be.

“My first assignment is in Astana,” I blurt out.

His frown is back. “Astana,” he repeats. “Astana, Kazakhstan?”

“Yup.” I smile weakly.

He nods slowly. “For how long?”

“Six months.”

“The fuck?” He jerks his head up, nearly headbutting me. He pulls back to stare at me.

“Kazakhstan is leading the way in cutting-edge architecture,” I ramble nervously. “The perfect storm of soviet, medieval and modernism. And, uh . . .” I fade off, wilting under his gaze. He doesn’t want to discuss Astana’s architecture.

“It’s only a ten-hour flight and one stopover,” I squeak.

Fuck.” His head flops back onto the pillow in defeat. With his eyes closed, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Jack?” I whisper, not blinking. I prod his chin willing him to look at me.

Silence.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s shaking his head with a small smile. “I guess I’ll be doing a lot of trekking in the next few months. We’ll get you some good hiking boots.”

I breathe out tentatively. “So, we’ll be okay? You can do the distance for a while?”

This time his smile reaches his eyes. Under the covers, his arms tighten around my waist. “We’ll be more than okay, Bonnie. It’s six months. We’ll make it work.”

Relief floods me.

“I’ll put a picture of you up in my office,” he says with a hint of a scowl. “Since I won’t get to see you. Maybe you can do a mosaic for me. Preferably made up of naked pictures of you.”

I laugh.

“And I’ve got a private plane, so I’ll get the journey down to seven hours.”

The perks of being a billionaire.

I smile brightly down at him, my hand mindlessly circling his nipple ring. “Maybe I’m pushing my luck here but there’s one more thing.”

He groans. “Jesus Christ, don’t say the next assignment is in Australia or somewhere.”

“No.” I laugh. “It’ll be back to London. I’m going on my honeymoon.”

He shakes his head, not understanding.

“Max and I were supposed to go to Svalbard,” I explain. “You know the island in the Antarctic, part of Norway? Max went with Olivia.” I pause. “So, I’m taking myself. When it’s hot enough to go again.”

“I’ll take you,” he says grumpily. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“I know,” I say delicately. “But I feel like I need to do this alone.”

His eyes are stormy as he processes that.

I get it. A large part of me is screaming not to do this. To stay in London and be with Jack every night.

But every decision I’ve made the past few years was influenced by a bloke—my dad, Max, the bloody partners—and I need to do this.

My body rises as he lets out a long breath from under me.

“Okay. But you know my promise extends across time zones. Wherever you are in the world, I’ve got you.” He smirks. “I only have one condition.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Whenever you fly home from Astana, you come directly here to my house in Greenwich. Give up the flat lease in Brixton. You know that place has put me off chicken altogether?”

I barely restrain an eye roll.

My legs spread wide as I star fish on top of him in the luxury super king-size bed.

“Sold.”


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