“No, please!” I begged, clawing at the carpet for something to hold onto. But still, my body slid against the carpet, its rough fibers burning the skin on my elbows.
I felt the weight of Knox’s body on top of mine as he released my ankles, pinning me flat against the floor. His hands slid up my arms, holding them both down with an uncompromising grip above my head.
“If you try to run from me again,” he grunted, one of his knees sliding between my legs, “then I’m going to have to remind you of what kind of man I really am. What tools I have at my disposal.”
What was he talking about?
“Confused, sweetheart?”
The hair dangling over my eyes prevented me from getting a good look at his face. When I tried to blow the strands away, I couldn’t even suck in full breath–he was pressing down too hard on my back. He mistook my tiny movement as resistance, so he forced his knee even harder down between my legs. Did he know he was pushing it right against my asshole?
“If you don’t cooperate, I’m going to have to remind you that my gun is never far from reach.”
I shuddered beneath him, a drop of sweat sliding down my temple toward my eye. Knox regularly had a gun on him–I’d almost forgotten about that. He was usually nonchalant about it, and I would’ve never known if I hadn’t noticed his shirt riding up every now and then,exposing the dark metal tucked against his hip. I’d seen it a few times before, just a quick flash that excited me in a way I could never really understand.
And I couldn’t understand why him threatening me with it now was making me clit throb. God,I’m sick. I’m fucked up. I need Brody’s priest on speed dial, because I’m the worst person alive.
I huffed out a breath. “My family would hear it.”
Knox bore more weight down on me, somehow–I hadn’t even realized he was still holding himself up. Beneath him, I gasped for air, my cheek mashed against the musty carpet. And he dragged his nose against my other cheek, his beard rubbing against my jaw. “I wasn’t going to shoot you, baby girl.”
Oh, fuck, fuck,fuck–I couldn’t handle that nickname. If he called me that again, my brain would melt completely. And like he knew the sensation was wrecking me, Knox lightly brushed his beard along my chin again.
“Did you forget I took a man down by pistol-whipping him? I know you remember.”
He lifted one hand from my wrist, and I wriggled beneath him until that hand found my upper thigh. He grabbed the soft flesh just below my buttcheek in a brutal pinch that made me whimper.
My brain screameddanger, but I knew my pussy was already dripping. Knox’s thumb slid along the edge of my panties at the top of my thigh, slowly inching inward toward the swell of my labia. Any second now, he’d know how humiliatingly soaked I already was.
“No,” I begged.
“No?” Without warning, he forcefully dragged his thumb over the wet cotton in the center. And then he moved it in a circle around my swollen clit, his thumb sliding effortlessly over the slick fabric. “You can fight me with words all you want, but your body’s already surrendering. You're a twisted little slut, aren't you?”
“Get off me!” I pleaded, taking in short, shallow breaths. “You’re too heavy.”
He let out a quiet, wicked laugh. “If you’re already complaining, it’s going to be a long night for you.”
A second later, Knox lifted his body off of mine. But he wasn’t releasing me. I wasn’t even given a second to fill my lungs with air before he was grabbing me again, tucking one hand under my arm to yank me upright.
“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” he warned, giving me a shake before holding my half-naked body against his. During our entanglement on the floor, one of my breasts slipped free from my bra, exposing my bare nipple to him. It brushed against his soft black t-shirt as he shifted my weight in his arm, and a rush of heat flooded through my body.
With one arm locked around my waist, he reached out with his free hand and caught the thick rope tieback looped around one of the living room curtains. And with one sharp, decisive yank, it tore free, and he held it in his fist like he’d already decided exactly what it was for.
“Why did you–”
“Shut the fuck up,” he said, his eyes dropping to my nipple for half a second before he made me turn away. “Go back to the bedroom.”
I stumbled through the darkness with Knox’s hand firmly grasped around my upper arm. Just when I entertained the idea of running away again, he tossed the rope over one shoulder so he could grab me with the other hand, using it to push my hip.
“Move faster,” he ordered.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“If you keep asking questions, I'm going to make sure it hurts.” He hadn’t even hesitated before responding that way, giving the small of my back a shove so I tumbled toward the bed.
I caught myself on the edge of the mattress. I didn't dare speak again, drawing in a panicked, shaky breath. Knox dropped the rope on the bedspread next to me.
“On your back.”
