Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
“You’re not mad at me?” I asked, breathy at the gravity of his words.
“Oh, I’m fucking livid at you,” he gritted out, eyes glowing with that lividity. “Not for that, though. For putting yourself in the line of fire in the first place. For not trusting me to take care of you.” There it was. Hurt. He was hurt that I hadn’t trusted him.
“I trusted you to take care of you,” I quickly countered. “I didn’t want you to have to. I wanted to save you.”
Knox didn’t belittle me with an ‘oh, you’re so cute, you’re a woman who thinks you can save a man’ type stare. No, his brows bunched as he searched my eyes. “You save me, Piper.” He leaned forward so our lips almost brushed. “By breathing. Existing. You do not save me by giving me the abject terror of watching another man take you from me without the grace of watching that man take his last breath. You stole his death from me. Worse, you marked your soul when it is my job to keep it pristine.”
He lowered his hand to my chest, which was soaked and crusted with blood. I hadn’t exactly forgotten about it, but I hadn’t fathomed the sheer amount of blood I was coated in. I looked like Carrie at the prom.
Knox’s hand skimmed over my body, his face impenetrable. The power in which he was holding himself still made his entire form seem to vibrate. I could feel the furor.
“I should probably change, shower.” I was suddenly uncomfortable, shy under his intense gaze.
“You’re not leaving my sight,” he growled. “I can’t fucking breathe properly until my cock is inside you, Piper.” I gasped as his hand skimmed down my skirt, hiking it up.
“He had you for eight hours and thirty-six minutes.” He fisted my skirt, eyes locking with mine. “What did—”
“He didn’t rape me,” I interrupted him in order to banish the misery I saw chaining his soul.
He exhaled heavily but didn’t relax. “There are other things—”
Again, I cut him off, but I didn’t do it with words; I did it by taking hold of his wrist and pulling it upward to where my pussy was wet and waiting for him.
Knox let out a low snarl as he felt it.
“He didn’t do anything to me,” I told him. “I did it all. I killed him with my bare hands. He didn’t lay a finger in any places that belong to you.”
Maybe a little white lie since Stone technically had touched me, but dead men kept secrets.
Knox’s gaze zoomed in on me as he searched my pussy, finding the string of my tampon I’d hid with an expert hand. Inconvenient to be on my period when I was supposed to be taking down a criminal enterprise. But I’d managed it despite men’s favorite line, using our menstruation as the reason why we couldn’t be trusted with power.
I did it all while wearing white too.
Knox swiftly drew my tampon out, flinging it carelessly across the room. Though I was near mad with desire, I made a mental note to retrieve it after we were done. I didn’t have shame over Knox handling my used tampon, but that’s where my comfortability ended.
Knox rubbed my aching clit, and I let out a strangled moan as I realized just how keyed up I was. How desperate I was for his merciless touch.
“You killed him.” Knox continued rubbing.
“Yes,” I rasped.
“How did you do it?”
I tilted my head at his request, asked in a guttural tone.
He stopped rubbing at my pause, stopped delving into my arousal, no longer coating me with it and blood.
“How did you do it, Petal?” he repeated, teeth grazing my lip.
“I-I ruptured h-his artery.”
Knox’s hand resumed its stroking.
“Which one?”
My eyes were in danger of rolling to the back of my head from this sordid, forbidden, depraved conversation happening in tandem with this overt and delicious sexual act. And I liked it.
“Femoral,” I gasped, my pleasure building, the edge rapidly approaching.
Knox didn’t stop his vicious assault, didn’t take his gaze from mine, yet he slowed his circles, stealing my imminent climax.
“So you had to get close,” he deduced, his words smoke and iron.
I nodded.
“Where were you?” He leaned forward, inhaling my neck, lips grazing the skin.
Even through my haze of feral desire, I knew answering this question was dangerous. Knox was thirsty for information that had the power to unravel him. But also, if I wasn’t mistaken, it was turning him on. A whole lot. I’d never felt such unrestrained, wild hunger from him before.
And that was truly saying something.
“On my knees,” I whispered, barely audible, terrified my answer would make him stop. Make him angry enough to punish me with no release to this almost painful buildup of tension.
He pulled back, jaw marble, nostrils flaring, eyes pits of wantonness. “You brought down one of the most powerful men in the country … on your knees.”.