Entombed In Sin (Graveyard Games Duet #2)

21. Knox

21

KNOX

T he Molly in my system lasts maybe another hour after I drop onto the couch in the office. During that time, Thatcher stewed. I don’t know why he’s upset, but I don’t have it in me to worry about it. If he’s concerned about me, it’s a waste of energy. I’m more than alright. I just can’t vocalize how I feel at the moment. My mind’s too preoccupied by the kaleidoscope of shapes and vibrant colors to really stress how perfectly perfect everything is. By the time the colors, shapes, sounds, and just the awe of it all faded away, he was gone.

As I blink awake, having dozed off a bit, my head is not only clear, but my heart is beating a new rhythm. A shiver rushes over me as I get used to this change in my body. I stare up at the drop ceiling as wonder balloons in my chest. As I think about it, I know that feeling inside me isn’t wonder, but something stronger and thicker than that. I frown as I consider the substance coating my insides. It’s hot and sticky as it clings to every organ, muscle, tendon, and bone. It drips deep into the crevices and fills me slowly. It’s not necessarily a comfortable sensation, though it’s not entirely painful either. It feels like there are sharp pieces mixed into the molten gooey feeling, like shards of sugar not quite melted down yet.

I smack my lips.

The taste of Sagan’s cum lingers there, and I can’t help but smile.

But there’s something else on my lips too. Something sugary sweet. Did Beatrix pop some candy into my mouth before leaving? It’s possible. That would be generous of her and not completely unexpected. She’d taken care of me after the twins left. I look down at myself, half-expecting to find her hand prints burned into my flesh, but I’m dressed now. She did that too. She’d cleaned me up, dulled the lights in the preparation room so they wouldn’t blind me, and allowed me to recover in peace.

A chuckle of disbelief slips past my lips. She tortured me, then cared for me tenderly afterward. Fuck, that’s… that’s weird, right? Or maybe not. At least, when it comes to Beatrix, it isn't.

None of us would’ve done the same for her. Thatcher had taken and cared for her in the shower after I’d buried her alive, but that wasn’t aftercare. Not really. He wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t let things go too far. That was an apology for not being there to oversee the punishment.

Starr Girl is too good for us.

The amusement slips away. Starr Girl. The nickname feels impersonal now. After what she put me through today and after the fun we’d had last night, it feels wrong to refer to her so callously. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub the heels of my hands against them. She’s so real, raw, and impossibly good despite the life we’ve dragged her into. She’s nothing but kind even when she’s mad. Beatrix is nothing like us.

We shouldn’t be here corrupting her, twisting her mind with thoughts of death and sin. She’s the light to our dark. We’ll snuff her out. A smidgen of panic wells up and I gasp at the chill it brings. I should try to save her from us. We're a snowstorm and she’s been adrift in us. What good could we bring to a person like Beatrix? Sure, we can offer her company and protection, but she deserves happiness and affection and some light of her own in her dark world, not shadows. Not the ghosts we carry with us.

I don’t deserve her in my life. The reality of that shakes me. Selfish, superficial, and needy—I’ve never put another’s needs first. Not even the twins. Even allowing Beatrix to punish me was selfish. The point of all of this was to make amends with Beatrix so I could be back under her spotlight. I wanted her attention, the awe I inspire in her, her sweet smiles and genuine compliments. I wanted the softness she brings to the life of sharp edges I live with.

But I’ve never considered what she wants. What she needs .

Beatrix is selfless in ways I could never be. She took my greatest weakness and turned it into an experience that set me free. I can’t feel Greg’s hands on me, or the hands of the men that came a few years later. I can breathe because of her and her punishment.

Ok, maybe I don’t deserve her, but I want her all the same. And who says I have to be a good guy? I’ve never been before. Why should I start now? If I want something, I should go take it. And right now, I want Beatrix. All of her. Every fucking inch of her, inside and out. I want to hollow her out and climb into her husk, where I can be cocooned by her greatness. Sure, that’s not feasible but I want it all the same. Pushing myself up, I get to my feet.

I need to talk to Beatrix. About what, I’m not sure. But I just…I need to look at her. Understand her. Or… or… I don’t know. All I do know is that I need her.

My feet tingle ever so slightly, but I ignore the lingering sensation of the drugs and head for the office door. I fling it open and call out, “Beatrix!”

There’s no response. Frustration causes my feet to move quickly down the hall toward the preparation room. She hadn’t been in there when I left but maybe she’ll be in there now. I poke my head in a few minutes later, but the room is empty.

I huff and step back out into the hallway. “Beatrix?!”

“She’s not here,” Sagan calls back, prowling down the hallway from the opposite direction I’d come from. His shadow follows behind him, growing large as the lighting down here warps it into a dark, malevolent thing behind him. He reaches up and rakes his fingers through his thick, dark bangs. When they fall back into his face, he adds, “She went up to the house. Said she was taking some time to herself.”

He stops in front of me, but I don’t linger. I start to turn around, but Sagan catches my wrist and spins me back to face him. His eyes trail over my face, seeing too much. He always sees too much.

“Sagan.” I try to tug my wrist away from him. “I need to go find Beatrix.”

“Oh yeah? Why?” His pupils narrow. Sagan pulls me closer and rests his hand on my hip. It’s a safe zone. I breathe easy, though I don’t know why I thought he’d attempt to touch me now that my punishment is over. “You’re not looking to get revenge for what she did, are you?”

The unexplainable frantic need to find her stalls for just a second as I realize his concern.

“No.” I shake my head hard. “I’m not mad at her.”

Sagan lets go of my wrist and takes hold of my chin. His grip starts off so gentle, but then it tightens as his jaw ticks.

“You look a little on edge, Pretty Boy. You sure you’re not looking to sink a blade into my pet?” Sagan raises a brow as his jaw ticks. My answering sigh is loud and overly exaggerated.

“I promise I’m not going to go kill her, ok?” I offer. “I just want to talk.”

He lets go of my chin but stares hard at me. I know I’m prone to being rash and lashing out. Under different circumstances, the stunt Beatrix pulled would send me into a murderous frenzy. I’m sure that’s what Sagan’s contemplating. Or that’s what I think he’s considering until he reaches out. At first, I don’t know what he’s doing. I watch, baffled, as Sagan’s hand slowly inches toward my chest. Then it hits me. Sagan wants to touch me. He’s deliberately slow with the movement, giving me time to object if I want. His expression shifts curiously, and for a split second, I’m curious too.

Beatrix’s touch had been… otherworldly. An experience like none other. It had been like I’d stood on the sun and rather than burn to a crisp, I shone just as brightly. I could endure a lifetime of Beatrix’s touch. But if I thought she’d broken the curse that hangs over me, I’m wrong.

Panic wells up like lava in an active volcano. A choked noise slips past my lips as I scurry backward, out of reach, just before Sagan can make contact. My heart races as I stare at him, my breathing erratic. I don’t know what the difference is between Sagan and Beatrix, but what I do know is that if I let him touch me, it’ll be like before. The pain, the memories, the wild despair that sends me spiraling into the past… I can’t let him touch me. Not right now.

Immediately, Sagan’s hand drops away before he can make contact. The minute it does, I suck in a deep breath and force myself to relax.

“Sorry,” I mutter, though I don’t quite know what I’m apologizing for.

Sagan shrugs, unperturbed. “Go find Beatrix, but behave, Pretty Boy.”

“Behave? Where’s the fun in that?” I call over my shoulder as I take off down the hall with a breathless laugh.

“Beatrix!” I bellow as I throw open the front door.

Somewhere in the house, there’s a squeak of alarm. I slam the door shut behind me and call out once more.

“Beatrix Starr, where are you ?” I don’t feel like combing through every room of the house for her, but I will if she doesn't answer right away.

“W-why?” she calls back.

Immediately, I zero in on the conservatory’s open door down the hallway. That’s where her voice came from, so that’s where I need to go. Rather than reply, I head in that direction. My feet are quick as my heart races. I don't even know why I’m so jittery and desperate to see her, but I just know I have to lay eyes on Beatrix Starr.

When I get to the conservatory, I fling open the door wider as I enter. Beatrix yelps in terror and jumps back. Outstretched in her hand, like a makeshift shield, is a small potted plant. It shakes as her eyes widen. Her shoulders come up to her ears as she takes another step backward. A sweeping glance over her body has me noting the change in her attire. She’s forgone her dress for a flowy gray blouse and casual trousers. Her bare feet must be cold on the tile floor, but if they are, she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s just as pretty dressed down as she is in her work apparel.

“We need to talk,” I tell her through gritted teeth as I storm toward her.

She scrambles back quickly, holding out her pot—that’s full of dirt with not a sapling insight—and cringes away.

“Knox, you said I could do anything. I’m sorry if I took it too far! I didn’t mean to?—”

“ Shut up ,” I order, snatching the pot from her hand—ready to toss it away.

Only at the last second do I remind myself that this room and the things in it are one of the few things that really matter to this woman. My body is stiff as I carefully place the pot on the floor by our feet and then straighten. I take another step toward her, forcing her to step back. The movement causes her back to bump into the glass wall behind her. My hands come up on either side of her face, my palms coming to rest on the cold surface.

With a pounding heart, I tell her, “I don’t want to hear an apology.”

She blinks rapidly as she stares up at me. Her rich, light brown eyes try to search for answers on my face, but good luck to her trying to find them. I don’t even know what I want in this moment. Her lips part ever so slightly as she waits for me to say or do something. My gaze drops to them. Those full lips had skimmed over my skin with a searing heat only a short while ago. They felt amazing then. Would they feel the same way now?

My cock swells swiftly at the thought.

“Knox…” I watch Beatrix’s lips move as she speaks my name.

Energy crackles around and over us. I can feel it creeping along my skin. The electricity that arches back and forth between us has me moving just a little closer. Then a little more.

“You drugged me,” I say finally as my head dips slightly.

“I’m sor?—”

“What did I say about an apology? I don’t want it,” I cut her off sharply. With a deep, shuddering breath, I push on. “You touched me, Beatrix. Your hands crawled all over my skin. Do you know what it feels like when someone touches me?”

Beatrix winces before she shakes her head.

“It’s like a hot poker dragging over my skin. Or like long, sharp, jagged claws digging into me, no matter how light the touch is. Physical contact hurts , Beatrix,” I tell her through clenched teeth. I’m so amped up that I feel like I’m vibrating. It’s taking everything in me to hold still as I speak. “Ever since Greg and his friend beat me, sodomized me with whatever they could fucking get their hands on, it’s been like this, and it just grew worse the longer I tried to avoid touch. The twins know where and how long I can take it, but even they’re careful. They know I can’t stand it. Not for long, and yet you touched me for an hour!”

I don’t mean to shout, but I end up doing so anyway. Beatrix flinches, her head turning to the side as she cringes away from me. I watch her pulse gallop frantically as a vein in her neck jumps out. I love fear. I could drown in it and I’d still want to drink more of it down. I’m an addict, and fear is my drug of choice.

Seeing Beatrix’s fear, though, makes me feel dirty and gross.

This woman just flipped my entire world upside, shaking away some of the shitty pieces of myself to make room for something better. I’m reeling from the experience, breathing easy around someone who isn’t Sagan and Thatcher. The reality of that is surreal and mind blowing. But while I’m overwhelmed with excitement and nerves, wonder and whatever that hot sticky sensation is inside me, Beatrix is cowering away from me. She’s not wrong to be scared. Look how I’ve treated her since we arrived. From day one, I told her that my loyalty is to the Hunt twins, not to her. Around her, my mood swings go from hot to cold and back again at the drop of a hat. I nearly slit her throat in a panicked rage, then I left her in the ground to suffocate to death. How I’ve treated Beatrix Starr is radiating from her body language now. It’s clear I’ve been one of her worst tormentors.

I hate it.

My whole being shies away from being that person to her now. There’s just something about her that makes me want to lean in and just… relax. I’m safe with her. I feel that deep down in my bones. I’ve only felt this strongly about two other people in my life. It's terrifying, and it’s beautiful. I want her to feel that way with me.

I also want her heart. It’s only fair to covet it because I’m pretty sure she’s stolen mine.

Swallowing hard, I try to rein in my enthusiasm. Lowering my head beside hers, I speak.

“It wasn’t like that with you,” I whisper into her ear. “God, Beatrix, I-I don’t know what to think or how to feel. I’m all sorts of fucked up in the head right now. But I’m curious, I just have to know if you feel just as good now as you did when I was on that table while I was high as a kite. W-will you touch me? Please?”

I can hear Beatrix’s breath catch. She doesn’t move right away, and I pull my head back to study her expression once more. Beatrix turns, so she’s facing me again, her eyes full of wariness.

“Knox…” she starts, her voice small as she begins to shake her head in objection. “I don’t know how to play this game with you. I feel like whatever I do right now is going to be the wrong thing, and I’ll get punished. Please don’t make me play.”

Her soft plea makes me feel nauseous.

“It's not a game,” I promise vehemently. “I need this. Touch me, Beatrix. Let me feel your hands on me again. Let me explore if it was you or the drugs.”

Beatrix takes her bottom lip between her teeth while indecision wars on her face. Her brows slowly pinch together before they curl upward.

“I want to touch you, Knox,” she confesses. Her voice is so soft I can barely hear her.

Fear and uncertainty linger in her gaze, but that energy between us thickens, and I can see her nipples poking through her shirt and the slight pink creeping up into her warm brown cheeks.

“Come on,” I urge. “Do it. I promise I’ll be good, no matter what happens.”

Even if her touch causes pain, I refuse to lash out like I had before.

Beatrix swallows hard but, cautiously, she reaches up with a single hand. Immediately, I flinch. I can’t stop the reaction, and I inwardly curse when Beatrix yanks her hand back while she mirrors my reaction.

“Fucking touch me !” I shout, letting my fear and hope and desperation pour out. “I need to feel that rush again. That sweet, agonizing bliss as it burns me! I need this, Beatrix. I need you . Please tell me there’s a chance that I’m not so fucking broken I can’t accept the touch of a goddamn angel. Touch me, Beatrix!”

Confusion washes over her face. For a second, I’m not sure what she doesn’t understand. Then it dawns on me, and I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. For her entire life she’s dealt with a town that’s wary of her, a neglectful mother, a handful of stepfathers who abused her, and had to deal with my bullshit and the Hunt twins’ games… It doesn’t take a lot to realize that Beatrix has never once felt appreciated or needed.

Her words from earlier come back to me: about the lack of friends she has and how she thought everyone last night was watching me. I don’t know where she got that idea from. If she really looked around, people were watching us . Beatrix doesn’t see herself clearly. She’s gone so long without anyone on her side that she simply doesn’t see or value her worth.

I get it, to some extent. I’d felt the same way for a while. But I’ve had the twins on my side for years now, replacing that heavy weight of isolation. Beatrix didn’t have that. Now that she has us, I wonder if we’re really enough to beat through her insecurities. I know, as great as the twins can be, there’s nothing incredibly sweet about them. They’re intense, demanding, all-consuming in the best possible ways. And me? I’m a fucking dick. She deserves better.

“Has no one ever told you that you’re an angel?” I ask.

She shakes her head. Doubt and suspicion flickering in her eyes as she stares up at me.

“Well, you are,” I assure her.

Her smile is small, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. Before I can press the issue, Beatrix’s right palm comes to rest right over my heart. The touch is unexpected, causing me to flinch violently. I almost jerk away but stop myself at the last second. Instead, I go still. My breath catches as I brace myself for the pain to come. I stare down into Beatrix’s eyes, and she looks back up at me, watching with dread—expecting the worst from me. Time comes to a grinding halt. I don’t know if it’s seconds or minutes, but for a while, neither of us moves.

For Beatrix, I’m sure freezing is a survival tactic. Like a deer staring into a pair of headlights.

It’s different for me. I’m too preoccupied by the internal barrage of chaos rioting through me to do anything else but stand here and just take it.

My body reacts to her touch. It’s a throat punch, a kick straight to my balls, the burn as lightning plows through me. But it’s also the kiss of warm sun rays, the caress of a feather, and a balm to an ache that’s soul deep.

If I wanted to, I could let the pain consume me. I could fall into the familiarity and scream, giving voice to the horrors of my past. If I’m being honest with myself, I like the pain. It brought me back from hell and made me strong. And I like how the twins wield this power over me, allowing me to suffer like a fucking masochist in my own ways, but being there to stop it whenever I’ve reached my breaking point.

But pain has been a constant in my life. Why not accept something else for a change? What would it be like to fall into the pillow-soft affection that sweet, young Beatrix gives so freely? She’s been offering me a warm place to lay my head since we barreled into her life without looking for anything in return, and I, stupidly, have been fighting it every step of the way.

My heart shudders at the intensity of the hot, sticky feeling filling my chest. Oh god… I just… I need this. I need her. I need Beatrix Starr.

Before I know it, I’m bending down and stealing a kiss. My lips press against her soft, full ones. I lean into her palm and groan as the conflicting emotions bring my blood to a boil and my heart to riot in my chest. This can’t be real, it’s not happening. But how can I deny the warmth radiating from her palm? That’s certainly real. Even with the flimsy barrier of my shirt, I can feel the blaze of heat.

Beatrix doesn’t kiss me back right away. She goes rigid and her breathing stops. It doesn’t deter me. I nip at her bottom lip, demanding a response.

“Knox.” Beatrix breathes against my lips.

I groan at the husk in her voice. “Come on, Beatrix. Let me in. Give me more .”

I’m being greedy. In the back of my head, I know this. Still, I won’t take less from Beatrix. And, because she is who she is, she gives me what I want.

Her free hand comes up, and she places it on my other pec. My body reacts, flinching again, but neither of us notice as my tongue dives into her mouth. My kiss is possessive, hungry, full of desperation.

Beatrix’s kiss is tentative, but when she commits, she allows me to take control and guide her. I shiver at her fluidity. One minute she’s wholly in control of the situation, doling out my punishment like a vengeful goddess. In the next, she is this sweet, innocent woman melting into me. I deepen the kiss, loving all the different sides of Beatrix Starr and needing to be close to every one of them.

This is how she’s gotten the twins so besotted with her. They saw all sides of Beatrix so clearly. How is it that it’s taken me this long to see how perfect she is? We might be the darkness and she might be the light, but that doesn’t matter. Because together is where we belong. I was just too stubborn to see that. Too selfish to care.

Maybe I was blinded. She’s lit up my world like a shooting star in an otherwise black sky. I’m certain that if I ever let her go, the world would plunge into perpetual night. And while I thrive in the dark—easily with the twins—I know I would never be happy again. I’d remain frozen and stuck.

I groan against Beatrix’s lips before pulling away and lower myself to my knees in front of her. As I kneel, I reach out and take the hem of her pants to pull them down with me.

“Knox!” Beatrix yelps breathlessly. “What?—”

“The first time I tasted you, I almost came right then and there,” I admit. I know I sound a bit crazed, but my head has never been clearer. “I’ve been between the legs of other women, but you? You tasted so damn good. Like a dessert. You taste like peaches and cream but, like, with extra cream, and the cream’s my favorite part of that dessert. So please, my Starr, my beautiful, shining Starr, let me taste you again,” I plead, needing this.

I don’t wait for her to answer—I simply continue pulling down her pants and then her soft, pink cotton panties. My left hand cups the back of her left calf before I slide it up slowly. Beneath my touch, Beatrix shivers.

“I thought you’d be mad at me,” she whispers. “After what I did to you.”

“I’m very much not mad,” I promise before leaning forward and kissing her thighs. I leave a trail of them as I move upward. She lets out soft gasps with each kiss. Bumps raise on her skin and trail behind where my lips have touched. When my hand gets to the back of her knee, I grab and lift it to place it over my shoulder. I glance up at her. “Hands in my hair, Shining Starr.”

Before she can move, I lean forward and take Beatrix’s swollen clit between my lips and suck. Beatrix’s scandalized gasp quickly shifts into a soft, husky moan. Her fingers dive into my hair as she arches her hips and rocks into me.

The fingers on my other hand come up, and I slide two into her wet pussy. The movement is unhindered, and her body clenches around me. I groan, remembering how good she felt wrapped around my cock. She was so warm and perfect. I need to be buried inside her again, minus the drugs this time. I want to feel this with a completely unaltered mind.

Deep inside her body, my fingers curl and caress Beatrix’s wet core, and my tongue swirls over her clit. While I work her up, her fingers dig into my hair. I groan as her nails scrape against my scalp. Her arousal drips down around my fingers and into my palm. Hungry like a ravenous beast, I lick it all up. She’s just as delicious as I remember. My cock strains against my pants, screaming for release. But as I devour and tease the woman standing above me, I know I need more than this. I need her touch. I insert a third finger, coaxing her body toward an orgasm.

Beatrix rocks her hips against my face, her moans of pleasure growing louder.

“Knox… I’m going to… to. Oh, yes!” she gasps, her breath hitching. Her grip tightens in my hair and she tenses. When she cries out, her body convulses, and her grinding becomes more intense. I pump my fingers in and out, dragging the pads of them against her inner walls, prolonging her orgasm all while I continue sucking her clit. I keep going until her body stops milking my digits. When her pussy stops fluttering, I pull my hand away, remove her leg from my shoulder, and stand.

Beatrix stares up at me, her gaze hooded as she breathes hard. I hold it as I lift my fingers and suck all her juices off them. Her mouth pops open in surprise.

“Fucking, delicious ,” I tell her. “Want a taste?”

“Ah, I don’t?—”

I shove my index finger into her mouth before she can object. “Suck, my Shining Starr.”

Beatrix’s eyelashes flutter before her lips wrap around my finger and she does what she’s told. Her tongue curls around my finger, making sure she gets every last drop. When she’s done, I pull my finger free.

“See? Don’t you think you taste good?”

Beatrix licks her lips, not speaking right away. When she does, she tilts her head to the side and asks, “Why are you calling me your Shining Starr? What happened to Starr Girl?”

“You’re not just some girl,” I tell her firmly. “You’re the light in my dark world. That ok?”

Her shoulders creep up and her eyes drop to our feet, but she nods.

“Hey, none of that. Believe it, alright?” I grab Beatrix’s hips, lifting her up and to me. Instinctually, her legs wrap around my waist. Her hands start toward my shoulders, but she thinks better of it, letting them fall back and slap against the glass wall behind her. The redirection infuriates me. “ No , touch me, Beatrix. Touch me everywhere . There are no limits for you. Never for you.”

Her eyes jump nervously to my face, but she complies, her hands coming up to rest on my shoulders. A full-body tremor rushes down me, but it’s followed by a jolt to my heart that sends heat coursing through me.

“Oh fuck,” I rasp out, stepping forward until her back hits the cool glass. I use it to help me hold her weight while I reach down, unzip my fly, and let my cock spring out. “You have no idea how it feels to be touched like this by you. It’s like… Like I’ve been jolted back to life and I’ve been given a second chance at it.”

It’s clear by the way Beatrix’s expression crumples as she ducks her head that she doesn’t believe me.

“I’m fucking serious,” I snap. “In this family, we don’t lie to each other.”

I can’t tell her that lying or secret keeping goes against our communication rule—that’s something she’ll have to find out on her own. But I have to make sure she believes me now. After this, there’s no going back to the way things were between us.

“So, when I tell you that you’re special, that you’ve unlocked something inside me that makes me want… want to be better, at least for you, I mean it. Understand?”

Slowly, Beatrix nods. “Yeah, I get it…” She swallows hard as a blush erupts beneath her cheeks again. “I guess you know how I feel about you, then. You heard it all?”

I shiver in delight. Rather than respond, I brace a hand to the glass beside her head, then shove my cock up her tight, hot pussy without warning. The wet sound of me sinking into her body is masked by her cry of surprise and delight. I echo it as the warmth of her core sinks deep beneath my skin.

“Yeah, I heard you,” I tell her through clenched teeth as her body grips me. I drag my cock back out of her slowly, then slam into her. “I heard every word that came out of your mouth. And you know what?” I step forward, pressing my hips hard into hers so her lower back is pinned to the glass. “I heard you like my face and my body. I also know you have a fondness for the jewelry I wear.”

I grind my hips into Beatrix, allowing the balls that decorate the head of my dick to massage her from the inside. She cries out in pleasure. Without seemingly being aware of it, her hands slide down to rest on my chest. A fountain of euphoria bubbles up inside of me, leaving me feeling lightheaded and weak.

“Yeah,” I growl, pleased as I watch her throw her head back. “That’s the same sound I heard when you realized how special my cock is. I like that noise a lot. Maybe I can get you to make it again and again and I’ll make it my ringtone.”

Beatrix laughs breathlessly. “You’re crazy.”

“Yup and proud of it,” I assure her. In the back of my head, I marvel that I can even speak. I should be screaming or writhing around in pain. Her hands haven’t left my chest and I’m talking , fucking, and… and…

Falling deeply in love with her.

The thought should frighten me. I’d sworn to myself long ago that I wouldn’t love anyone ever again. Clearly I failed, since the Hunt twins have my undying devotion and heart. But again ? God, and their rule about… I cut off the thought. It’s too late to worry about that now. My punishment will come, in time. Until then, I’m going to just marvel at this new revelation.

Beatrix tilts her neck as she relishes the jewelry rocking her world. I take the opportunity to lean forward and kiss along the exposed skin. I’m rewarded by a breathy sigh of contentment. My lips split into a smile between kisses and I grind deeper into her body. The smell of sex overpowers the rich soil that permeates the conservatory. With a deep inhale, I let it fill my lungs and hold it there, savoring this moment between us.

Beatrix starts to pant. Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders, then they creep down my back to pull me closer. I let out a sound that’s something between a growl and groan. The sound escapes from my lips again as her nails sink into my back.

Yes , fuck yes . Her touch is just as fantastic now as it was while under the influence. I stop grinding to really begin thrusting into Beatrix. Her body jiggles and shakes as I forgo any finesse to become the monster I hide behind my pretty smile.

“Knox,” Beatrix pants my name, adding a sweet whine of desperation to it.

“I got you, Shining Starr,” I promise breathlessly. “From here on out, I’ll be your good doll. Your favorite plaything. I’ll make you smile, laugh, drown you in the blood of our victims, and make you cum hard enough to see real stars.”

She groans and her nails dig deeper into my back.

Her pussy grows impossibly wet. Her thick thighs fill my hands, the soft flesh of her lower belly presses into my stomach. It’s such a nice change. Thatcher and Sagan are all hard muscles with no give anywhere. But Beatrix? She’s like fucking a pillow, and I’m a dog who can’t help but hump it.

Our mouths find one another, and I kiss Beatrix deeply. Just then her body clenches down, almost painfully, around my cock, and she falls apart once more. As she cums, Beatrix’s body releases a torrent of fluid. I groan loudly, loving the evidence of how she and her body enjoy me inside her. I thrust a few more times up into her pulsating pussy before I find my release. The eruption of pleasure that follows it is mind blowing. I throw my head back with a cry. Beatrix’s hands continue to claw at my back and the touch only adds to the intensity of my release. I love it. I love all of this.

When I finally stop cumming, I lean forward into Beatrix, my body pinning her in place against the glass wall. In the back of my head, I realize we barely removed any articles of clothes. I don’t like that. I want the skin-to-skin contact.

I dip my head to kiss just beneath her ear. Beatrix shivers and I smile, not taking my lips away from her flesh.

“Upstairs for round two?”

“I think this is well past round two for me today,” she replies, her body trembling from her soft giggle.

I laugh, pulling away just enough to look down at her. Beatrix’s eyes sparkle and I can see that she’s forgiven me. Well, not completely. There’s a small flicker of reservation in the very depths of them. That’s ok, though. I can work with this. It took time to win over Thatcher and Sagan. With hearts as cold and hard as steel, it had been a challenge, but worth it. Beatrix is their exact opposite. And judging by that beautiful twinkle in her eyes, she won’t be so hard to win over. I know, though, fighting for her affection will be just as worth it.

Flashing her a cocky smile, I say, “Let’s see if I can catch up, then.”