Chapter Eleven
SERENITY VEYLOR-KORVEN
Iopened my eyes and realized I was wrapped in strong, warm arms. I couldn’t even tell when I fell asleep, but after the way he fucked me, so hard, so deep, so relentless, I must have passed out. At some point, he’d unfastened my wrists from the cuffs and peeled the nipple suckers off my breasts.
I hadn’t planned to spend the night with him.
I wanted to taste something different, try a new body, but the second he touched me, all my resolve melted.
Every inch of me was pulled to him, hypnotized, like my whole body craved his touch above everything else.
It was terrifying and addictive all at once.
I was scared of getting attached to him… if it wasn’t already too late.
Pathetic, I know. Really fucking pathetic, to feel a knot in your chest for a man you only met yesterday, a man whose job is to fuck every pussy that pays.
But there’s something about him. Something possessive, dominant but intimate, that draws me in, and makes me feel like I belong to someone, like I matter for the first time.
I’d never known what it felt like to wake up in a man’s arms, to feel protected by his body, to hear his breath at the back of my neck.
I felt good, peaceful, spoiled, almost important to him, and I hated how much that meant to me.
But for once, I let myself have a moment of foolishness.
I wanted to pretend, just for this morning, that I could let myself fall, because I loved the way it felt when he touched me, when he was tender, when he held me like this.
I didn’t know Knox could give any more than he gave me yesterday, but he shattered every expectation.
I’d played with toys alone, in the emptiness of my marriage.
That’s how I learned to suck dick. I’d tried to push them inside myself too but never went all the way.
However, tonight, all those silicone dicks, mixed with his real one, his tongue on my clit, the vibrations, the pressure—it all drove me insane.
It was pleasure on a scale I didn’t know existed.
I’d never felt my soul leave my body until then.
When I said I wanted one dick in each hole, I didn’t mean it, but when he slid that butt plug in, God—it was more than I ever imagined.
Knowing it’s still there, still inside me, makes my skin tingle.
I can’t help but wonder what else he’ll do to me before the night is over.
I squirmed against him, letting myself enjoy those arms for a few more seconds.
His breath was soft against my hair as he tightened his hold on me.
His embrace was gentle, everything I’d ever wanted to share with my husband.
I didn’t want to break free. A piece of me aches knowing I can only find this comfort with someone else, not my husband.
I always dreamed he’d look at me, desire me, maybe even love me, if we had the chance.
But that hope drowned the day my father put a bullet in Kate Korven’s chest. I would never forgive my dad for that, not even if I crossed over into death.
“Are you sleeping?” I muffled against his chest.
I needed to anchor myself in something real before the memories swallowed me whole.
“I’m not,” he answered.
I tilted my head up and met his gaze. The golden light in the room caught his green eyes, making them look even deeper, more mysterious.
I knew he must be wearing contacts, but it didn’t matter—those eyes were beautiful.
I’d never really looked at them before, not like this, without his dick in my pussy or my mind in peace.
They pulled me in, hypnotized me, and made me forget I was supposed to keep my distance.
I looked away, suddenly embarrassed by how connected I felt to an escort.
I shouldn’t. It was already reckless, letting him fuck me bare, not caring about anything except the feel of his skin on mine.
It didn’t matter to me because in a few weeks, I’d be dead anyway.
If I caught something, it wouldn’t change a thing.
Besides, I wanted to know what real dick, skin to skin, felt like.
I ran my fingers slowly over his chest, taking in the richness of his flawless brown skin.
Last night, I’d been too far gone to notice the details, but now my eyes caught on the ink above his heart.
There was a tattoo, intricate and bold, a planet etched into his skin.
My fingertip traced the shape, following every line and curve, drawn in by the mystery of it.
I found myself wanting to know what it meant to him, why he’d chosen to carry it so close to his heart.
For once, I let my curiosity take over, lingering on that mark, quietly hoping he’d let me in on the story written there.
“Why a planet?” I asked, needing to know anything he’d give me.
He laid his hand over mine, both of us touching his skin together, his warmth seeping into my palm.
“It’s for someone precious,” he answered.
I couldn’t stop my mind from spinning. Precious.
That kind of meaning was always about a woman.
Surely someone he loved and kept close. The thought made me ache in a way I could never admit.
Here I was, catching feelings for a man I barely knew, who probably belonged to someone else.
All while my heart was still tangled in hope for someone who’d never look my way.
“She must be really precious to you, if you tattooed her that close to your heart,” I pushed, needing to hear it.
I heard him take a slow breath. His hand drifted over mine.
His touch stirring up a deep shiver inside me.
I loved the way he touched me, so deliberate I almost wished he’d reach for me like this every day.
When his fingers brushed over my wedding ring, a wave of shame and sadness hit me.
He knew I was married. He had to know how pitiful it was, a married woman, searching for comfort in a stranger’s arms. The shame burned in my chest.
“She is dear to my heart,” he finally said.
The words broke me just a little more. This was all so wrong. A man who loved someone else, inside a woman desperate for the attention of a husband who’d never give it. Two broken people, pressed together, each aching for someone who would never look back. Pathetic, all the way around.
“She’s lucky.” I drew in a shaky breath. “But I’m wondering why you do this. Why spend your nights fucking someone else instead of being with her?”
He didn’t answer at first, silence stretching between us. Then his hand slid up to my chin, tipping my face up so he could look at me.
“Why are you fucking another man instead of your husband, Venus?”
My throat closed up. Frustration flared so fast it burned. “I don’t owe you my story,” I snapped, trying to pull away because I needed space.
But before I could get far, he caught my wrist and pulled me right back into him.
Then his hands cupped my cheeks, holding me there.
His eyes drilled into mine, demanding the truth I never wanted to say out loud.
The force of that gaze sat in my throat like a stone.
I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, shame, anger, and heartbreak rising all at once.
“Because he doesn’t want me,” I managed to say, my voice trembling.
“Because he hates me so much he wants me dead. He swore I would pay for my father’s sins, even though I despise everything my father stood for.
” I swallowed hard, fighting tears. “My husband makes me pay for things I never would have allowed if I had any power, but he never cared enough to see who I really was.”
Knox searched my face in silence, still holding me captive.
“You hate your father?” The question came out hard.
“With all my heart,” I said honestly. “That monster put me in this hell. He chased a war that meant nothing and killed someone I loved very much. He had my mother killed when I was ten, just because she wanted to leave him for someone else, then he killed the woman who risked everything to care for me. My husband’s mother was more of a mother to me than anyone ever was.
She broke every rule to guide me, to meet me in secret, even though we were supposed to be enemies. She never deserved to die.”
I broke down then, sobbing into his chest and letting the grief I’d buried for months finally tear free.
I’d never told anyone about Kate Korven.
No one knew the truth of how deeply I loved her, how much she meant to me, how I blamed myself for her death.
I carried that guilt so long it became part of me.
“You’re saying you knew your husband’s mother before she died?” Knox’s voice was rough, his jaw tight, his stare darker than I’d ever seen. “You were close to her?”
I wiped my face, forcing myself to meet his eyes.
“I’m saying if my husband hates me, it’s because of me and my father.
If he wants me dead, I’ll take it. I deserve it.
My father took the person he loved most from him.
And honestly, if he doesn’t kill me when all this is over, I might do it myself.
Living with the guilt is already killing me more every single day. ”
He stared at me, eyes stormy with so many emotions flickering through his gaze I couldn’t read them all. But I needed him to know the truth. I needed to let it out, at least to this stranger, before it ate me alive.
I broke the intensity of our exchange by looking away from him. Staring at the ceiling in silence, I replayed the miserable movie of my life. I’d never really had the chance to know true happiness. I wished things could have been different.
The silence stretched between us. Only our breathing could be heard. Then, a jolt of electricity ran down my spine as Knox’s hand gently stroked my skin. He trailed his fingers lightly over my arm, barely touching, then slowly drifted down to my chest, my stomach, and lower.