As I think about it, something unfurls inside me.
Knox’s spirit is giving me strength…while he’s still alive. There’s something about the mask, about him, that’s turning me colder. Stronger.
“Better.” His entire face tightens. His resolve is an impenetrable rock. “Fucking better. And so goddamn beautiful, Trouble.”
His gaze is unyielding. Consuming. Promising me that with him, I’ll always be protected. That he won’t hesitate to kill if it means I’ll be safe.
His darkness is my light. My warmth.
We should strategize. I have to brace myself for what I’m about to witness.
I rebel against doing either.
There’s something else on my mind.
A sharp memory of the first night I was here.
In the guest room.
The way he played my body, how he used his mask and tongue to make me come…
Jesus fuck.
As if having a mind of their own, my fingers drift up, brushing the mask just above my lips, right at the slit. Just like his tongue licked me, I swipe my tongue over my fingers, then my entire palm as Knox’s stare stalks my every move.
He’s eating it up, his breathing as labored as mine. As I make love to my hand, the sheer depravity of the moment becomes a third entity in the room.
There’s no stopping this, all this lust and murderous energy.
The fire we’re creating stokes higher when Knox grabs my wrist and shoves my wet hand to his crotch.
He’s hard, throbbing. Constricted by his jeans and begging to be taken out.
I’m just as eager to have him in my palm.
“I could help you.” I don’t sound like I did the first time I offered him help. I hardly recognize my own voice, it’s so rugged.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yes.” I’m breathless, my fingers closing over the button of his jeans, my eyes pleading with him to let me. “You know I can. Here, if I could just…”
“No time. I want to get it over with.” He scowls, looking just as agonized as I feel. “But when we’re back, I’ll fuck your hand. And I won’t stop there.”
When we’re backfeels too far away. Like it might never come at all.
Like there’s a chance I might lose him.
And that’s where the mask fails me.
As empowered as I feel, I can’t stop worrying about Knox.
His family might’ve lied aboutjustmaking me watch my sister’s murder. Sick bastards they are, they might take it further.
If they touch me, Knox would try to protect me. He might fail.
The image of him paralyzed and at their mercy sends shivers down my spine. Bile rises in my throat. I think I’m going to be sick.
“Come on.” Confident and fearless, he cups my cheeks, his touch hot despite the mask separating us. “You’ll be better off once it’s behind us. Let’s go.”
