The fan creaks, its slow rhythm clashing with the obscene wet sounds of Knox thrusting into my palm.
Then there’s my pulse. I hear it too, the loud, demanding, clinging beat.
“You did?” The question escapes as a breath. A plea.
“Couldn’t think of anything else.” His fist tangles in my hair, his other hand coaxes me to pump him, never to stop, while he basically tells me that he’s been stalking me. “Your eyes. Your lips. Your life. They were mine the minute I looked you up.You’remine.”
He’s done more than stalk me. He hunted me. And yet here I am, on my knees, the desperate need to be his fueling my following question. “I am?”
The air crackles between us. His nostrils flare.
“The first. The last.” Precum beads at the crown of his cock. He yanks my hair until the roots burn. “The only one.”
My pussy clenches, and it hurts. This emptinessaches.
The need he awakens in me, I’ve never felt that way before. Never thought I could.
More than anything, it’s wrong.
In a last-ditch effort to revert to my old self, I try to pull my hand back.
“Never. You don’t get to tell me no.” His glare pins me, pure command, dark and unyielding. “Unless you want that wound festering…”
Knox tilts his head, voice low, unreadable. I can’t tell if it’s a bluff, and I don’t dare test him.
“You’re gonna pump me until my cum marks your pretty face,” he groans, his speech soaked with lust. “You’ll do it my way. Slow when I say slow, rough when I say rough. Don’t make me repeat myself, Trouble. Understood?”
I whimper. I nod. Desire and fear pull me into the depths of his insanity.
My hand works him through the tremors and the need. Heat sears from the strip of my flesh pressed into my palm.
Jerking him off with my blood as lube is vile. An unspeakable violation. Something that should never exist.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done.
Every rugged groan from him is like a wildfire spreading through me. His thighs twitch, his cock pulses in my hand, and I want more.
His pleasure drives me higher. With every drop of precum, with every smear of my blood on his cock, he pushes deeper into me. Past my body and into my soul.
Maybe that’s why I come to terms with the worst of all the wrongs I’ve done here.
Why I give in. To this madness, this arousal. All of him belongs to me too.
Real ropes and chains aren’t what’s tying us together. His threat isn’t what’s keeping me on my knees, jerking him off.
In fact, this isn’t even about the handjob itself.
This is something else entirely. Something that makes my pulse race and my stomach flutter.
We connect. Spiritually. Viscerally.
In a deranged way that shouldn’t exist.
“You see it too,” Knox deadpans, his hand squeezing over mine, forcing my strokes to keep steady.
“See what?”
“That we belong together.” His thumb rubs my bottom lip, then brushes over the path of my dried tears. Softness against the filthy act he’s making me commit. “That you’ll have me even if it hurts.”
