Page 39 of Doomed
“Always.” I flash her my most wicked grin. “So, what’s it going to be, Bianca? Are you brave enough to take your chances and play the game with me?”
I can see the wheels turning in her head, and I already know her answer. The fire in her eyes tells me everything I need to know. She won’t be able to refuse—not when I’ve made it a challenge.
She pulls back enough to create a sliver of space between us while remaining in my grip. The defiance in her eyes is intoxicating.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” she says. “I need time to think about it.” Bianca steps away, attempting to slip out of my grasp and turn toward the door.
Like hell she’s walking away from me now.
I move quickly, catching her before she makes it three steps. My hand wraps around her throat—not squeezing, holding her in place with enough pressure to feel her swallow nervously. Her eyes widen as I back her against the wall.
“I’ve waited long enough,” I murmur, my thumb tracing her jawline.
I crash my lips against hers, not bothering with gentleness. I’m done playing nice. I feel her posture change in an instant, her frame tenses with her hands frozen at her sides like she can’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.
For a moment, I wonder if I’ve miscalculated and pushed her too far. Then I trace my tongue along the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and her defenses melt away.
Herlips part beneath mine, and fuck—the sound she makes. A soft, desperate moan vibrates against my lips as she melts forme. Her hands find their way to my chest, fingers curling into my shirt like she needs an anchor.
The noise she makes when I deepen the kiss sends heat straight to my cock. I can’t help but chuckle against her mouth at how quickly her resistance crumbled.
That seems to snap her out of it. She stiffens in my arms, and before I can react, she shoves me back hard enough to make me stumble. Her chest heaves as she glares at me, lips swollen and eyes blazing.
“You think this is funny?” she demands, voice trembling with anger. “You can’t just—just grab me whenever you want! You’re so fucking insufferable,” she spits out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You think you can manhandle anyone you want because your last name is Blackwood? God, you’re such a toxic man-child.”
I can’t help but laugh at her modern terminology. “Man-child? That’s a new one.”
“Stay away from me. I’m not some object to be used and discarded.” She snatches up the invitation from where it fell during our kiss, shoving it back into her portfolio. “I haven’t decided if I’m signing this yet, but if I do, it won’t have anything to do with you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Keep telling yourself that, princess.”
“Go to hell, Knox.” She straightens her shirt, which my hands have wrinkled, and storms toward the door. “And don’t call me princess, asshole!”
The door slams behind her with enough force to rattle the framed artwork on the wall. I stand there for a moment, my cock throbbing painfully against my zipper. Fuck.
I sit down in my chair and pull up the security feed on my computer. There she is, marching through the main floor of Purgatory, her whole body rigid with fury. Watching her hipssway as she stomps toward the exit makes my dick throb harder. I palm myself through my jeans, hissing at the contact.
“Run all you want, Bianca,” I murmur to the screen, squeezing myself as I watch her disappear through the front doors. “But we both know you’re coming back.”
She’ll sign those papers. She’s too proud to back down from the challenge I’ve thrown at her. And once she’s in the Hunt, there will be nowhere to hide. I’ll find her—I always find what I’m looking for.
The thought makes me groan, my hand pressing harder against my erection.
I click the mouse, eyes locked on the security feed where Bianca stares directly into the camera before storming toward the parking lot. I rewind and pause the feed so that those hazel eyes meet mine through the screen, and my cock throbs painfully against my zipper. Fucking minx knows exactly where the cameras are—we all monitor them, but she’s looking right at me.
The ache becomes urgent, demanding attention. All I can think about is painting that beautiful face with my cum. That’s an art exhibit I’d pay to see daily—her lips parted, skin glistening with my release. Now that would be a masterpiece worth collecting.
I press the door lock on my phone, making sure no one interrupts my private viewing session. My zipper slides down with a satisfying rasp, and I take my cock in hand, stroking it to the fire in her eyes and those pouty lips made for fucking. Christ, she doesn’t even know what she does to me.
The pressure builds as I work myself, eyes never leaving her face on the screen. That defiance, that fucking attitude—the same one she had when she slapped me at the gallery. My strokes increase in speed and pressure, base to tip, thumbrolling over the sensitive head before plunging back down. Over and over until my thighs shake with need.
I know it’s coming, but it’s not enough. It will never be enough with Bianca. My need to mark her, to see my cum on her skin, is beyond control. With the final three pumps of my fist, I stand up and cum all over the monitor, watching as it drips down her face frozen on the screen.
“FUCK,” I growl as the tension ebbs from my body, pleasure pulsing through me in waves. Soon, my beautiful princess. Soon.
I grab a glass of whiskey once my heart rate begins to settle, wiping the screen clean with a tissue. The grin on my face is practically feral as I run through the possibilities in my head. The Hunt is less than two weeks away, and I’ve never been more fucking excited for it. The anticipation has been building ever since Xavier confirmed he’d invite Bianca as the fifth prey.
She hasn’t officially RSVP’d yet, but she will. That kiss in my office confirmed what I already knew—she wants me as much as I want her. She’s just too stubborn to admit it. The way she melted against me, that little moan she couldn’t hold back... yeah, she’ll be there.
