Page 78 of Entombed In Sin

“Strikethree, Pretty Boy,” I whisper into Knox’s ear as I wrestle him to the ground in the middle of the old landing strip. Quickly, I procure his wrists and pull them back behind him.

“Oh no, the big bad Hunt has me. Whatever will I do?” Knox says, not sounding all that upset about it. “I don’t suppose I can plead my case?”

I chuckle, transferring his wrists to hold them with one hand. With the help of experience from years of doing it, I manage to undo my belt buckle with one hand. I slide my belt out of the loops of my jeans and use it to bind Knox’s hands behind his back.

“You most certainly can,” I chuckle. “But you might want to save your breath. You’ll need it.”

I stare at the red cuts of flesh slashed through the skin on his back. My cock grows painfully hard at the sight of them. They’re shallow and will heal without scarring, just like the two on Beatrix’s back. Unable to stop myself, I reach forward and drag my short nail through the red marks.

Knox hisses in pain. “Yes. You make pain feel so fucking good. More,now…” Then with a thoughtful pause, he adds. “Please?”

My cock twitches at the sound.

“Fuck, you have such a pretty mouth. It makes such sweet sounds,” I growl. “I can’t wait to hear more of your begging.”

Knox chuckles. “You’re starting to sound like Thatcher.”

“The pitfalls of always hanging out with my brother,” I grumble in mocking disgust. Thatcher has always managed to come off as charming and kind. It’s a mask, of course. He’s just as cruel as I am—he just likes to hide it. He likes to fuck with people’s heads that way.

“You could change that,” Knox offers lightly.

Yeah, I definitely can.

I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for several days now.

There’s been a shift in the dynamics between my Pretty Boy and my pet. At first, I didn’t notice—given its subtlety. Knox teases and taunts Beatrix, just like he does with us, and he’s just as demanding and haughty as ever. If I wasn’t so in tune with the both of them, I might’ve never noticed a change. But it’s there. I’ve caught the fleeting, yet heated looks they trade with one another. And then there’s the way Knox seems to unconsciously drift to Beatrix’s side whenever she enters the room. They way the two of them move around one another, it’s like they’re trapped in each other’s gravitational force.

The biggest change, however, is how Knox reacts to touch.

With the slightest brush of Beatrix’s fingers across his back or chest, Knox melts. The way his face twists up and body shudders—one might think he’s in pain. But then he leans into it, breathing easier than ever. Sometimes, he reaches up to grab Beatrix to hold her hand there, against him. Other times, Knox looks up at Beatrix with those bright blue eyes, so full of adoration, and I swear I see the raw and unhindered view of hissoul. In those moments, he's just as vulnerable as when I have him pinned beneath me, with my hands on his bare skin as he screams in agony.

And my Little Viper? Her need to reach out and connect with him is just as beneficial for her as it is to him. She’s earned his acceptance and now she gets to reap the reward: Knox’s affection. She’s soaking it in like a dry sponge and it’s giving her an eternal glow.

I’ve let the two of them have their moment. Now I want my own. Has my Little Viper’s venom burned away all of Knox’s reservation? Is he free from his past demons?

Forgoing my knife, I reach out to touch Knox. My palms rest between his shoulder blades before skimming down to rest on his ribs. My Pretty Boy’s back bows, and he hisses. The muscles beneath my palms grow taut. Then I feel it. The hard tremor, the way Knox’s back expands as he fills his lung, and there’s the tell tale sign—a whimper that warns of the prelude to come. A smile creeps across my face. I guess Knox is still my Pretty, yet broken, Boy.

Just before Knox screams, a loud crash comes from nearby. Excited hoots and howls litter the night before gunshots follow.

“Shit,” Knox hisses weakly as I get to my feet.

As he gets to his, I untie his hands and push him toward the hangars. “Get in there and stay low.”

We both dart for the protection of the abandoned building just as headlights flash and there’s a yip of excitement from the car that skids across the width of the landing strip. I push Knox into the shadows of the hangar just as someone shouts, “Look, there’s someone!”

I fling myself into the darkness and dive to the side, accidentally tackling Knox as I do. We tumble to the ground just as bullets pepper the spot I’d just been. Laughter follows.

“Fuck, who are these guys and where did they come from?” Knox hisses.

Bullets hit the side of the building. Two make it through, but at a safe distance away.

“How wouldIknow?” I demand.

“Think this has something to do with whoever’s been messing with us?”

I don’t answer him as I get to my feet. Before heading home from our night out on the town a few nights ago, we threw the trackers in Lake Eerie. It’s possible we’re still being watched. I doubt whoever’s been lurking in the shadows has turned in the towel. Then again, this could be a situation where we’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time. These could be kids out joy riding, looking for trouble. Either way, we need to get out of here. There’s been too much commotion. I’m sure the cops are on their way. If they are, we don’t need to be anywhere near here.

Behind us comes the sound of tires screeching as the newcomers come barreling toward us. Their headlights brighten the interior of the hangar. There’s a door on the other side from where we are, just barely hanging off its rusty hinges.

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