Page 77 of Doomed
“Bianca,” he whispers against my lips, my name a prayer on his tongue.
Knox is flush against me, his weight a delicious anchor. His hands are everywhere at once—tracing the curve of my waist, cupping my breast, tangling in my hair. Each touch ignites sparks beneath my skin.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. “The way you respond to me, like you were made for my touch.”
Gone is the frantic urgency from before. This feels like worship.
“Knox,” I gasp, digging my nails into his shoulders.
His mouth finds mine, swallowing my moans. “That’s it, princess. Say my name like it’s the only word you remember.”
The tenderness in his eyes contrasts with his wicked smile. He’s still Knox—the arrogant, teasing man who pursued me relentlessly—but he’s unguarded now.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs. “Every inch of you. The way you taste, the way you feel around me.” He rolls his hips, hitting a spot that makes me cry out. “The little sounds you make when I’m deep inside you.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. The pleasure builds slowly, inexorably, like waves ebbing from the shoreline before a tsunami, gaining strength for the intensity of what is to come.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his voice rough with desire. “Take what you need from me.”
His fingers find where we’re joined, circling with just enough pressure to have me riding the edge between pleasure and pain, my clit hypersensitive having had so many hours of devoted attention already. I’m trembling beneath him, hovering on the edge of something monumental.
“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” Knox breathes against my skin. “Your body, your mind, your fierce spirit. Everything about you calls to me like a starved man in need of a feast.”
He kisses me deeply, our tongues tangling as our bodies move together in perfect synchrony. I feel completely consumed by him, yet somehow more myself than I’ve ever been.
The pleasure builds inside me like a gathering storm, every nerve ending alive and singing. Knox’s rhythm is perfect—deliberate and deep, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Knox whispers, his voice husky against my ear. “I can feel you tightening around me, like your cunt is begging me not to stop.”
I can only whimper in response, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Such a good girl,” he continues, his words sending shivers down my spine. “Taking me so perfectly. Knew you’d feel this good from the moment I saw you—all fire and talent wrapped in a package made for sin.”
His lips trail down my neck, teeth grazing my pulse point. “Going to make you come around my cock, princess. Want to feel you fall apart while I’m buried deep inside you.”
I’m trembling now, hovering right at the precipice. Knox shifts slightly, changing the angle, and stars flash behind my eyelids.
“That’s it,” he growls, pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at me while you come. Want to see those gorgeous eyes when you shatter.”
I pry my eyes open to find him watching with intensity. The vulnerability behind his desire catches me off guard, pushing me into freefall. Pleasure washes over me in powerful, consuming waves.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Knox murmurs, his cocky smile softening at the edges. “Like a fucking renaissance painting—art coming undone for me.” His pace quickens slightly. “My Bianca. My masterpiece.”
My name on his lips sounds like a revelation. In the very next breath, my pussy clenches around his cock, sending me into a dizzying spiral of pleasure. He kisses me deeply, swallowing my cries.
“I could watch you come for me forever,” he says against my lips, his usual arrogance tempered with wonder. “I’ll never get tired of knowing I’m the one who makes you feel this good.”
I cling to Knox as he follows me over the edge. A deep, guttural groan escapes him, and knowing that I give him as much pleasure as he gives me makes my heart constrict. For once, there’s no performance. Simply Knox, stripped of his arrogance and masks, coming undone in my arms.
His forehead presses against mine, our breath mingling as we both tremble with aftershocks. I’ve never felt so completely seen by another person.
“We will stay here together until the feast,” he whispers, brushing his lips against mine. It doesn’t sound like a command—more like a plea.
I nod, unable to form words. Knox rolls to his side, gathering me against his chest. His heartbeat thunders beneath my ear, gradually slowing to a steady rhythm. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare skin.
“What are you thinking about?” Knox asks.
I hesitate, unsure how to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know.”
