Page 83 of Doomed
“I...” The words catch in my throat as I watch Julian drive into Elliot.
Julian tightens his grip on Elliot’s hips, his thrusts becoming more forceful. “Show them,” he growls, his voice echoing through the hushed room. “Show everyone what happens when you’re mine. Come for me. Now.”
Elliot tenses, back arching as he cries out—a sound of surrender and release that makes my own body clench in response. His climax erupts across the mirrored surface beneath him, thick ropes of white painting the reflective platform.
Julian doesn’t slow his pace. If anything, he drives deeper, his fingers digging into Elliot’s flesh hard enough to leave marks. “Mine,” he snarls, his composure fracturing. His rhythm falters, becomes erratic. With one final, brutal thrust, Julian presses himself flush against Elliot’s back and shudders. Though I can’t see it, I know exactly what’s happening—Julian marking Elliot from the inside, claiming him.
The room is silent except for their ragged breathing. Julian withdraws, allowing everyone to see the physical evidence of his claim as it trickles down Elliot’s thigh.
My heart pounds against my ribs as Knox’s hand slides up to cup my face, turning me toward him. His eyes burn with an intensity that steals my breath.
“It’s time, princess,” he whispers, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip. “Let’s give them a show and prove how much you love getting bred by me.”
The crude words should offend me. Instead, they send liquid heat pooling between my thighs. His grip on my waist tightens as he guides me toward the platform. I’m surprised to find myself moving willingly, eagerly, toward my public claiming.
Knox steps forward, pulling me alongside him. His presence is commanding as we approach the mirrored dais, my legs trembling with each step. The room falls silent, all eyes focused on us.
“I claim Bianca Hayes for one full year,” Knox announces, his voice ringing through the chamber.
He guides me onto the mirrored platform, the cool surface shocking against my heated skin. With deliberate movements, Knox positions me on all fours above the reflective surface.
“Look down,” he commands, his voice pitched to carry across the silent room. “I want you to watch yourself being formally claimed by me.”
I lower my gaze and gasp. Below me is a perfect reflection—my flushed face, parted lips, and eyes wild with desire behind my blue mask. Knox kneels behind me, his muscular thighs bracketing mine, his arousal evident.
“Do you see how perfect you look?” His hands slide down my spine, leaving trails of fire. “I want you to watch me fill this tight, owned little cunt while everyone watches you surrender it to me for breeding like the dirty girl you are.”
Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I can’t look away from our reflection. It’s mesmerizing seeing myself this way—vulnerable, exposed, and undeniably aroused.
“You pretended you didn’t want this,” Knox announces, his fingers grasping my hips. “But look how wet you are for me. Your cunt is dripping at the thought of everyone watching me fuck you.”
His crude words echo through the room, and I should be mortified, but I moan pitifully, begging him to fuck me with that one sound. The knowledge that everyone is witnessing this—witnessing me surrender to him is thrilling.
“Beg for it,” Knox demands. “Let them all hear how much you want my cock.”
“Please,” I whisper, then louder when his hand connects with my ass. “Please, Knox. I need you inside me.”
He positions himself at my entrance, the blunt head of his cock pressing against me. “Watch yourself take me,” he growls.
I keep my eyes fixed on our reflection as he pushes forward, filling me completely in one powerful thrust. The sight of him entering me, combined with the sensation, pulls a desperate cry from my lips.
I can’t tear my eyes away from our reflection. Every inch of his thick length disappears inside me before pulling back, glistening with evidence of my arousal. The sight is hypnotic—the contrast of his tanned skin against mine, the way I stretch to accommodate him.
“Look at you taking every inch,” Knox growls, his fingers digging into my hips. “Your body was made for this—made for me.”
He slows his pace, making each stroke agonizing. I watch, transfixed, as he withdraws until only the tip remains before sinking back in with excruciating control.
“Feel how deep I am?” His voice drops lower, meant only for me despite our audience. “I’m going to plant my seed so deep inside you, it’ll take root. Fill you up until your belly swells with the evidence of how completely you belong to me.”
A whimper escapes my lips at his words. What he’s suggesting shouldn’t excite me this much, but my pussy clenches.
That’s it,” he hisses, feeling my reaction. “Your body knows what it wants. Knows you were designed to carry my legacy inside you.”
He reaches around to circle my clit with his thumb, and I nearly collapse at the dual sensation.
“Every drop I give you is a promise,” Knox continues, his rhythm never faltering. “A promise that you’re mine to mark, mine to fill, mine to watch grow round with what we create together. God, you’ll look so fucking pretty pregnant with my baby.”
The intensity of his words, combined with the visual of him claiming me so thoroughly, pushes me toward the edge. I’m vaguely aware of the audience watching. Still, all I can focus on is the exquisite fullness each time he drives forward and the fire his words ignite within me.
