Page 41 of Pose for Me

I pause, tilting my head as I let her question hang in the charged air between us. My hand remains at her throat, my thumb idly brushing against the delicate skin just below her jaw. Her pulse beats steady now, no longer frantic but full of quiet anticipation. She doesn’t flinch under my grip; instead, her gaze challenges me. My eyes flick to the new book resting on the nightstand next to the bed.

"So are you saying I could have fucked you while you were sleeping and you would have been okay with that? Perhaps I should put on a mask…" I counter, my voice low, gravelly, deliberate. My lips curl into a smirk as I lean in closer, watching every flicker of emotion that crosses her face. "Not let you know who I am while I fuck you… Maybe I should’ve held a knife to your throat…” My fingers tighten ever so slightly on her neck, not enough to harm, but enough to remind her who is in control. “…Cut into all that glorious skin just to paint you in blood and cum."

Her reaction is instantaneous, her pupils dilating until only the faintest ring of blue surrounds the black. Her breathing quickens, though it’s not fear I see in her—it’s something else entirely. Something far darker. Far more dangerous.

"I mean…" she starts, her lips curling into a wicked little smile that sends a jolt straight through me. It reminds me of River. "I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of any of that." Her voice is sweet, saccharine, but there’s a razor-sharp edge beneath it. "I do read a lot of dark romance books, after all."

The sound that escapes me is involuntary—a chuckle, deep and throaty, vibrating from my chest. It fills the small space between us, and I see the way it affects her. Her thighs shift beneath me, the friction sending a delicious ripple of awareness through my body. God, I love how easily she reacts to me, how much control I have over her without even trying.

"Reading it and experiencing it are two very different things. Maybe I should read some to you out loud. Hmmm?" I murmur, amusement lacing my words. My free hand moves to the nightstand, and I pick up the book resting there. Its worn edges and well-thumbed pages tell me it’s been read more than once. Perfect.

"Let’s see what kind of twisted bedtime story you’re reading now." I open the book one-handed, using my thumb to flip to the page marked by her bookmark. The words leap off the page, vivid and raw, and heat rushes through me as I skim the contents. My cock, already stirring from the proximity of her naked body, hardens fully, pressing insistently against her.

"Well, well," I say, my voice thick with arousal as I lower the book slightly to meet her gaze. My eyes burn into hers, taking in the way her lips part, her breath catching as she watches me. She would have to know exactly what I just read. "Is this what you like, baby girl?" My smirk widens, my control slipping now. "Should I threaten to breed this pretty little cunt?"

Chapter 26

Rayne

Idon’tknowwhat’scome over me. I can’t blame it on the alcohol—that had burned out of my system before I crawled into bed and long before I put the book aside and fell asleep again. But something deep and electric has taken hold of me this past week. Maybe it’s knowing how closely they are following me like a predator stalking prey. Or maybe it’s the book I couldn’t resist reading before falling asleep, the one now open in his hands that whispers promises of dark, forbidden urges.

But the moment Knox’s tattooed body loomed over me, that burn—the one I’d tried to ignore—flared back to life. A molten heat that started in my chest and spiraled down between my thighs. His voice, low and gravelly, ignited every nerve ending, making me feel like I was standing too close to an open flame. I’m thirsty, desperate... and somehow, I know he can quench this ache.

The room feels too small, the space between us suffocating. I try to answer, but the words stick in my throat.

I’ve never wanted children—I’ve always been sure of that. I love my friend’s daughter, dote on her endlessly, but I’ve never felt the pull myself. And yet... the way Knox looks at me now, savage and unrelenting, makes my stomach twist with longing I don’t fully understand. Not for the reality of it, no. But for this fantasy, this raw, carnal desire. For him.

My skin flushes hot, mortified and aroused all at once. I jerk my head in protest. "I—I have an implant," I stammer, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "I’m not looking to get pregnant."

"Good," he growls, closing the book with a snap and setting it back on the nightstand. The sound makes me jump slightly, but his attention never wavers. "Because I don’t give a damn about the reality of it. What I care about is the way you look at me when I say it. Like you want it anyway, like you want me to ruin you."

It’s true. God, it’s so painfully true.

"Well?" he murmurs. His voice is low, rough-edged, as though dragged over gravel, and it vibrates through the small space between us. His face is so close now, I can feel the heat radiating from him. His breath fans across my lips, intoxicating and maddening all at once. But he doesn’t close the distance. He hovers, waiting, teasing.

I lift my head instinctively, desperate for contact, but he matches my movement perfectly, keeping that unbearable sliver of air between us. The corner of his mouth twitches, and I realize this is exactly what he wants—to watch me squirm, to make me chase something he’s not ready to give.

"Well?" he repeats, his tone sharper now, more commanding. The question lingers in the haze clouding my brain. What was he asking? My thoughts stumble over themselves, tripping as I try to gather them. I want him to kiss me. I want him to do everything I’ve only ever imagined before. Every instinct in me screams to just throw myself into the fire he’s ignited, but…

"River," I blurt out, my frown deepening as the name tumbles unbidden from my lips. "Does he even know you’re here?"

Knox chuckles—a dark, rasping sound that scrapes against my nerves and sets me alight all over again. His grip tightens ever so slightly, a warning, though his thumb skims my jaw in a way that feels almost tender.

"Ohh little Rayne," he drawls, leaning closer until his lips hover near my ear. "He knows exactly where I am, and he wishes he were here too. Not being here is his punishment… for teasing me with the thought of fucking him while his cock is buried deep inside your delicious pussy." The confession hits me like a lightning strike, and I swear I feel it all the way down to my core. My thighs clench involuntarily, need coiling tighter and tighter inside me.

I shudder at his words, my breath hitching. There’s something wickedly intimate about the way he says it—as though there’s no room for shame or hesitation. Before I can stop myself, a vivid image of Knox and River together flashes through my mind, their bodies entwined, all raw power and unrelenting heat. A broken sound escapes me—a whimper—and Knox hears it, of course. His smirk sharpens, predatory.

"Now," he says, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with me again. His gaze burns, fierce and unyielding, pinning me in place. "Answer me. Tell me you love the idea of me taking you, owning you, ruining you..."

Yes. God, yes. That’s what I want. All of it. Every dark, depraved thing I’ve only ever read about in secret and never dared to dream of experiencing. My heart races as I force myself to meet his gaze, drowning in the molten promise behind it.

"Yes," I whisper, the word slipping out before I can second-guess it. My voice is barely audible, but it feels deafening in the charged silence between us.

A slow smirk curls at the corner of his mouth, wicked and knowing. He tilts his head slightly, his lips still hovering achingly close to mine, but making no move to bridge the gap. "Beg me," he says, his tone calm, controlled, yet laced with a challenge that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly.

My breath catches. He doesn’t move, doesn’t push further. He simply waits, his gaze locked onto mine, daring me to take the next step.

I blink up at him, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat. The word reverberates in the charged air between us, a challenge that has been thrown at my feet.

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