Page 42 of Pose for Me

"Wh-what?" My voice cracks slightly, and I hate how small it sounds.

Knox doesn’t answer immediately. His piercing eyes—predatory and unwavering—remain locked on mine, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around my throat. My pulse hammers against his palm, betraying the storm inside me.

"Beg me," he repeats, his tone deliberate, gravel rough, each syllable dragged out as if savoring them. "Beg me to ruin you."

The heat of his body is suffocating, every part of him pressing into me without apology. His hard length digs into my stomach, nothing separating us. It sets my nerves alight, makes coherent thought impossible.

"Please," I blurt before I can stop myself, my voice trembling, but there's no hiding the need behind it. The sharp edge of amusement glints in his eyes, daring me to continue.

"Use your words, Rayne," he challenges, lowering his face until his lips are so close I can feel the ghost of his breath brushing mine. "Tell me exactly what you want."

The command sends a shiver down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. My mind spins, torn between defiance and surrender, but my body has already made its choice. Everything in me aches for him—for the kind of destruction only he can offer.

"Ruin me," I whisper finally, the words tumbling from my lips unbidden, raw and desperate. "Please."

Knox's eyes darken at my words, molten gold flecks dancing in their hazel depths. A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against me. But he doesn't move, doesn't give me what I crave. Instead, his grip on my throat tightens just a fraction more, his thumb pressing against my thundering pulse.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You can do better than that."

His free hand trails down my side, fingertips barely grazing my skin. The feather-light touch leaves goosebumps in its wake, my body arching instinctively into his caress. He chuckles darkly, clearly pleased by my responsiveness.

"Beg harder," Knox commands, his tone brooking no argument. "Make me believe you want this as badly as I do."

The weight of his body pins me to the mattress, every inch of his skin searing against mine. I can feel the coarse hair on his chest brushing my nipples, already painfully tight and sensitive. His cock, hard and insistent, presses into my stomach, a reminder of what awaits me if I can just find the right words.

I squirm beneath him, desperate for friction, for relief from the aching need building inside me. But Knox doesn't budge. His muscular thighs bracket my hips, holding me in place with effortless strength. The moonlight filtering through the curtains casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp planes of his cheekbones and the hungry glint in his eyes.

"Use that pretty mouth," he coaxes, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. "Tell me exactly how badly you want me to destroy you."

When he reaches my hip, his grip suddenly tightens, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise.

The pain mingles with pleasure, drawing a gasp from my lips. It's like a dam breaking, unleashing a torrent of words I didn't know I had in me.

"Please, Knox," I whimper, my inhibitions crumbling under the weight of his gaze. "I need you. I need you to ruin me, to break me apart and put me back together. I want your marks all over my body, inside and out. I want to feel you for days, to ache in places I didn't know could ache."

My cheeks burn with each confession, but I can't stop now. The words pour out of me, raw and unfiltered.

"I want both of you to use me, to take everything I have to give and demand more. I want to be yours and River’s, completely and utterly. Please, Knox. Please ruin me. Make me yours."

His smirk deepens, and the hand around my throat flexes again, possessive and unrelenting. The control fraying at the edges now, tightening like a coiled spring, moments from snapping.

"Good girl," he growls, and the sound alone nearly undoes me.

Without warning, his lips crash into mine in a ferocious, devouring kiss. There's no gentleness, no restraint—only the raw, primal need to possess, to dominate. His tongue thrusts deep, tangling with mine as he swallows my moans.

I'm drowning in the scent of him, the taste, the overwhelming physicality that pins me in place. His hand tightens on my throat. The lack of air is dizzying, disorienting, but his lips are even more intoxicating.

I'm lost to everything but the feeling of him consuming me.

His free hand finds my breast, squeezing firmly, fingers kneading the soft flesh with delicious pressure. My back arches instinctively into his touch as he palms the generous curve, thumbing over the taut peak. A white-hot jolt of arousal lances through me at the rough caress.

His fingers twist at my aching nipple, the sharp pinch going straight to my throbbing core. A desperate whimper escapes me, my hips rocking uselessly against empty air in search of any friction. He chuckles darkly, the vibration sending tremors through my very bones.

I've never felt smaller or more deliciously overwhelmed by his sheer size and intensity. Every nerve is alight and hyper-aware of the hard planes of his body blanketing mine.

He lavishes the same rough attention on my other breast, squeezing and plucking until I'm writhing beneath him. I'm not a small woman by any means, but he makes me feel delicate and desired, as though I'm made to be devoured

When his mouth leaves mine again, he sits back, releasing my throat. Both of his large hands engulf the swell of my breasts, fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he watches me arch helplessly into his touch.

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