Page 80 of Captive Souls

But he gave in to my delicate request, fingers leaving me empty.

“Take off your boxers,” I told him, intending my voice to be sexy and authoritative. It ended up being breathy and thin.

Knox raised his brow at my making the demands, but with an uptick of his mouth that was incredibly sexy, he obeyed, lifting his body so he could take off his boxers to reveal his magnificent, hard cock.

I smiled at him and licked my lips.

He let out a low hiss of breath as I knelt down on the rug, using my hands to push his knees apart.

My hands met resistance as he leaned forward to tilt my head upward.

“No, Petal,” he shook his head. “You will never be on your knees in front of me.”

I smiled against the feral command, not moving or so much as flinching.

“You get to worship me, I get to worship you.”

I saw the ghost of desire on his face, but it was mostly overlayed with hardness. “I do not deserve to be worshiped, Petal.”

Though the words speared my soul, I kept my sensual, playful expression in place. This was not the time to heal wounds. To convince him otherwise. It was time to show him.

I lifted my finger to place it on his chest, pushing. “I get to be the judge of that, honey.”

He flinched at the term of endearment, his body as rigid as stone. I didn’t think my chances were entirely good at winning this fight, but I wouldn’t back down.

I was shocked and delighted when, after a withering glare, he let me lightly push him back onto the sofa.

I pushed his knees apart to glimpse his impressive length.

“You know, I made myself come on this very couch.” I grabbed the base of him in a firm grip, looking up at him. “Thinking of you. Coming in and finding me. Bending me over.” I thought the admission would be embarrassing somehow, but it was liberating to share sensual secrets with Knox.

His eyes were clouded with need, his body taut. “I know,” he bit out. “I saw you.”

My grip slacked in surprise. Didn’t see that one coming. Hot embarrassment crawled up my neck.

“It was the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” he continued. “I watched you. From the window.”

An admission of his own. Though his voice was strong and masculine, I swore I sensed a little shame in it.

I smiled, my embarrassment gone. “Maybe next time I do it you won’t be watching from the window,” I told him, feeling bold.

His cock twitched in my hand. I was guessing he liked the sound of that.

“You better do something soon, Petal,” he ground out. “Because I’m seconds away from burying myself so deep in you, you’ll feel me in your throat.”

My insides dipped and my mouth pooled with saliva. I quickly leaned forward and took him in my mouth. Fully.

I’d had intended to go slow, teasing him, torturing him. But I no longer had the patience, the willpower for that. I felt rabid, desperate to show him how much I wanted him.

He was too large to take entirely in my mouth, but I took as much as I could, moving up and down his length, my hand following my mouth, tasting his salty precum.

It wasn’t long before his hands went to my hips, and I was up. Kneeling at the feet of a man who considered himself evil, tarnished, had been wonderful. Erotic. Especially since he was the most dangerous man I’d ever encountered. Best of all, though I was the one on my knees, he was the one submitting.

“Bend over,” he demanded, setting me on unsteady feet.

I clung to the arm of the sofa, gaze blurry from the rapid change in perspective, from the lust clouding my vision. My pussy had a heartbeat.

“Like you imagined.” His voice was so hoarse, I barely understood him.

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