Depravity

Chapter 9 Knox #2

“I don’t.” She’s being quiet as she moans. As she lies. “You’re going to kill me. You manipulated me. With the green charm. With this. This is fake. You’re fake. Fucking fake.”

“Liar. My hand is soaked, down to the wrist. Your pussy”—saying that word out loud stirs something in me—“grips my fingers. It means you want it, right?”

“My sister. Please, stop.” Her voice is beautiful. So full of ache. Of confusion. “I have to get her.”

“She has no place here.”

“She does. She’s my twin.”

“Just you.” I’m locked onto her, a predator sighting prey. The desperation in her eyes, I can’t get enough of it. Her fear and need, they’re mine. “Now shut up.”

The head of my cock leaks with precum.

I ache all over as I try to make her come.

Yeah, she hates me. She’s said no a few times. She fights this pleasure, but it won’t help her. Whether she wants this orgasm or not, she’s getting it.

She’s getting me.

“Shut up… That’s what you need from me?” Skylar’s breathless, yet somehow able to talk while I plunge my fingers in her as brutally as I can. “To be quiet because you’re scared of them? Is that why you’re doing this? Why you stalked me? Why you’re hurting me? Because they told you to?”

“Hurting you?”

“Yes, you’re hurting me.”

“Doesn’t feel like I’m hurting you.” I buck my hips, eyes on her, catching on the conflicted expression on her pretty face. “Are you in pain, Skylar?”

“You’re making me feel”—a suppressed moan propels me to finger-fuck her faster—“all these things. How you’re touching me. It’s wrong.”

“Wrong doesn’t mean I’m hurting you.” I pull out, my fingers hovering over her clit. “I bet this won’t hurt either.”

That’s all the warning I give before I pinch that hard little thing that makes her writhe.

“Fuck.” She grips the wall tighter, squeezing her thighs. Like I thought, she isn’t in pain. Still, she refuses to give me what’s mine. “No. No. Let go.”

“Never, Skylar. The only thing you get to say to me is yes.”

“Please, I—”

The rest of her sentence turns into a gasp when I shove her shorts down her legs.

“No.” Her panties are thin. I tear them, fist them. Tuck them in my jeans. “I’m a virgin. My sister—I can’t lose my virginity here. Like this. They’re killing her, and I can’t. Don’t make me. Don’t, please. My first time can’t be here while my sister’s dying. With someone who fucking tricked me.”

Her first.

A visceral growl rips past my lips, echoing inside my mask. Possessiveness curls around my lungs.

“Stop.” Skylar’s breath quickens, her eyes stay locked on mine as I drop to my knees. As I flip her to face me. “No. No. Fuck you.”

Flames lick at my skin while I strip her. Sneakers, socks, those damn shorts, gone.

I toss them aside, impatience clawing at me.

I can’t fucking wait to taste her.

I used to think the rest of my life was out there somewhere.

But my fate is right here.

With Skylar.

The future doctor.

The one thing I never planned for.

My woman.

“Wish I could.” I drag my hands up the backs of her trembling thighs, pressing my masked face against her dripping hole. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to bury myself inside you, Trouble.”

I haul Skylar down to the floor with me. Flat on my back, I manhandle her, leveling her pussy over my face.

She still doubts me. Her fists are tight at her sides, gaze flickering to the door.

If someone comes in here, they’re dead. I’m not worried.

I just want her.

“Look at me. I didn’t trick you.” I shove her lower, fastening both hands around her hips. Gorgeous hips that were made to carry the babies I’ll put inside her. “I own you. Every sound that spills out of you. Every clench. Every shiver. I’ll have you screaming on my cock.”

I’ve heard this kind of talk before, similar lines from Jett’s movies, the ones he left playing on his laptop. Back then, the words didn’t make me feel a damn thing.

With Skylar, I get it. She’s the first and last girl I’ll ever want to talk to like that. Just her.

“Bronwyn…” Her head drops, hair draping over her breasts.

She looks in pain, but her need runs hot down her thighs. I free one hand, slide my fingers over her soaked skin, then dart my tongue through the slit in my mask, tasting her off my fingertips.

“More,” I groan, feeling high on her sweetness. I’m wound up, cock pulsing. Needing.

“Bronwyn,” she repeats, with far less conviction than before.

“No Bronwyn. There’s only me here, and I’m taking all of you.” I clamp my hands back on her hips and drag her lower. “Come here.”

“Please.” She puts her hands on mine, not to push me away. To beg me. “I have to help her.”

“Fuck. Your. Sister.” My breath heaves as I force her down to my mouth. “She’ll still be there when I’m done with you.”

She freezes for a beat, weighing her options, as if she has any. As if she doesn’t already belong to me.

Then she squeezes my hands, and I know.

She’s run out of excuses.

“So wrong.” The moment she gives in is beautiful. Tension leaves her body. Her pussy lands on my mask and my tongue. “Oh, fuck. So wrong.”

Her scent engulfs me, more intoxicating up close. The weight of her on my face, her trembling thighs, it turns me right the fuck on.

But she isn’t here to sit.

Where my inexperienced fingers failed, my lips, tongue, and the ridges of my mask won’t. I want to try, want to give her that friction. To touch every inch of her at once. I’ll make her come for me if it’s the last thing I do.

My primal instincts tell me what to do, my eyes studying Skylar as I rock her body on top of me.

Even if there’s no rhyme or reason to this face-fucking, I’m getting it fucking right. Her lips part in a silent scream, more wetness dripping onto me.

More precum wets my boxers at that. Nothing feels better than taking what’s always been mine.

“Who”—gasp—“are you?”

She’s so sweet. The way she keeps asking questions. The way she talks between one labored breath and another.

Like she’s trying not to think about my tongue flicking and swirling over her pussy. Like riding my mask doesn’t send shivers through her.

Like she isn’t soaking my mouth and clutching onto my hands for dear life.

I pull her off me to tell her, “I’m the man who’ll make you come,” before yanking her back to where she belongs.

I help her fuck my mask faster. Harder. Faster.

Muffled thuds and cries drift up from below.

They’re hurting Easton and Bronwyn.

Skylar would’ve heard it too, would’ve demanded that I stop.

If she wasn’t coming apart all over my mask.

This has to be it, what’s happening to her. Her clenching thighs, the juices that fill my mouth, making a mess of my mask.

Skylar scratches my hands, whispering, “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.”

She has no control over her body, leaning her weight on top of me.

Flushed cheeks. The hint of her stomach, that soft skin. I want more of that.

I keep licking her, my cock thickening with each one of her spasms.

I—

Fire shoots up my spine, locking my jaw.

I want—

My balls tighten.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I’m coming too. My orgasm chases hers, brutal and mind-numbing. I’m holding Skylar up so she won’t fall to the side, but it’s a struggle.

Cum soaks my boxers as my dick empties itself.

This has never happened to me, but it’s so right.

Because it’s with her.

“Good girl,” I say.

Pulling her off me is agony. But I’m not away from her for long as I rearrange her on her back, then straddle her. Both my forearms cage her face, and just like that, I’m home.

The fact that she’s crying, that her breath hitches, I’m good with that.

She’ll learn to love me.

There’s no escaping this.

The bond between us is unshakable.

My bones vibrate with it. I cradle her face roughly to show her just how mine she is.

“What did we just do?” she demands.

When I stay silent, saving my answers for later, she blinks.

Her lips settle into a fine line. “Could you at least tell me your name?”

My name. That’s one thing I can tell her. One thing I want to say to Skylar. “Knox.”

“Knox.” Her nose twitches, fingers curling around my wrists. Hoping to appease me. Can’t she tell that she already does? That I’m losing my mind for her? “Could you please spare me, Knox? Could you help me save Bronwyn?”

“You’re polite. I like that.” I don’t. I like her fucking wild. But for now, this compliance is good for us. “Keep it up, and I might not turn you into my next belt.”

A scream lodges in her throat. I see it in her wide eyes. Her quivering chin. Her mouth that parts.

Not the time to kiss her, I tell myself, even as I shake her off me. My hand lifts the mask slightly as my body leans in like it’s been waiting for this all my life.

It has, that’s why I press my lips to hers. I kiss her because she’s fucking mine. That scream, it belongs to me too.

My mouth opens wider on instinct. Driven by lust and some primal need to taste more of her, I swipe my tongue over hers.

No time.

I pull back, loving her swollen, wet lips. The darkness and shock in her eyes.

“We’re going to give them a show downstairs.” I slam a hand over her mouth. Fuck, I love owning her. “You’ll pretend that you hate me. That you fear me. Then we’re going home.”

She shakes her head, her little fists punching me.

Dammit, I’m hard as if I didn’t just climax a second ago.

“A beautiful belt.” Since my mask has remained halfway up, I bare my teeth to her, instilling fear in her. “A beautiful, beautiful belt. And a lampshade. Yes, you’ll be a great addition to my home.”

My lies silence her. Still, I don’t let up. Her fear has to look real.

“See, I won’t sell your skin. I’ll tan it, turn it into leather. Keep you with me forever.”

At the final threat, she nods. I snatch the little charm I gave her from her bra and stuff her mouth with it.

“Don’t spit it out.”

She nods.

So do I. Then I reach for the pile of her clothes and wrench them over her. With her sneakers on her feet, she’s ready.

I haul her over my shoulder and wipe my mask clean with her panties before pocketing them again. Then I stomp out of the guest room.

My pulse is steady. Senses sharp.

I’m going to get us out of here.

Either that, or I’m killing everyone who dares to touch her.