Chapter 6
Knox
I trust you,
Three words. Three impossible words that echo through my skull as I press forward, the head of my cock notching against her entrance. Sarah looks up at me—no fear in those eyes. Just want.
I push in. Just the tip.
Her gasp fills the room. Her fingers dig into my biceps, nails biting crescents into my skin, and I freeze.
"You okay back there?"
"Yes." The word comes out breathless, broken. "Don't stop. Please, Knox."
I couldn't stop if I wanted to. The feral thing in my chest has slipped its chains completely, flooding my blood with heat and want. But I force myself to go slow. Inch by inch. Watching her face for any flicker of pain, ready to pull back the second she needs me to.
Her pussy grips me tighter than anything I've ever felt. Hot. Soaking wet. Squeezing around my cock like she never wants to let go. I grit my teeth and fight for control—all I want is to bury myself to the hilt and fuck her until neither of us remembers our own names.
But she's so small beneath me, and my body is built for war, not tenderness.
Another inch. Her back arches off the mattress, pressing those perfect breasts against my chest.
"God, Knox, you're so—"
"I know." I drop my forehead to hers, breathing hard. "Relax for me. Let me in."
Her scent floods my lungs—thick with arousal, rich with satisfaction. And underneath it, something else, like surrender. Like belonging.
I push deeper. Another inch. She moans, her hips lifting to meet me.
"Taking me so fucking good. Look at this perfect little pussy stretching around my cock."
I glance down between us. Watch my thick shaft disappearing inside her, her pink folds spreading wide to accommodate me. The visual nearly breaks me.
Another inch. Halfway in.
She wraps her legs around my hips, pulls me closer. "More. Give me more."
I thrust forward and seat myself completely.
Sarah cries out—not pain, pure pleasure—her inner walls clamping down on me as her whole body shudders.
The sensation rips a groan from my chest. So fucking tight.
Her pussy squeezes me like a fist, fluttering and pulsing, and I have to hold perfectly still or I'll come before I've properly started.
"Knox—" My name breaks on her lips.
"I know, little human." I brush sweat-damp hair from her face. "Give yourself a second. Let your body adjust."
She breathes. Once. Twice. Then her hips rock against mine, testing the fullness.
"Move." Her nails rake down my back. "Please, I need you to move."
I pull back slow—dragging every inch of my cock along her sensitive walls—then thrust deep. Her moan echoes off the ceiling. I do it again and again. Finding a rhythm that makes her writhe beneath me, her hips lifting to meet every stroke.
"That's it." I grip her hip with one hand, anchoring her in place while I fuck into her deeper.
The wet sounds fill the room—slick and obscene. My cock drives into her pussy over and over, and she takes everything I give. Her scent thickens with every thrust. Arousal layered on satisfaction layered on raw need that makes the feral thing inside me want to roar.
I lean down and capture her mouth. Kiss her deep and filthy while my hips keep moving, swallowing every moan she feeds me. Her tongue slides against mine, desperate, and her hands grip my hair like she'll die if she lets go.
"Knox—" She breaks the kiss, gasping. "Can we—"
"Tell me." I slow my thrusts, circling my hips, grinding against her clit. "Whatever you want. It's yours."
"I want to be on top."
The request sends a spike of heat straight to my cock. I pull out—she whimpers at the loss—and roll onto my back, settling against the pillows. My shaft stands rigid against my stomach, gleaming with her wetness.
"Come here." I reach for her hips. "Take what you need."
Sarah climbs over me, her thighs spreading wide across my hips. She positions herself above my cock, one hand wrapping around the base to steady me, and sinks down.
The angle lets her take me deeper than before. Her head falls back, a broken moan spilling from her throat, and I watch—utterly transfixed—as she impales herself on my cock inch by inch.
"Fuck." The word punches out of me. "Look at you. Taking all of me like you were made for it."
She plants her hands on my chest and starts to move. Slow at first. Lifting herself up, sliding back down, finding her rhythm. Her breasts bounce with every motion and I can't stop myself—I reach up and cup them, thumbs circling her nipples until they peak hard against my palms.
"Knox—" She rides me faster, her pussy gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing. "You feel so good. I'm so full. I can feel you everywhere."
I watch her chase her pleasure. This small human woman taking what she needs from my body, using me, losing herself in it. Her eyes glaze. Her rhythm turns desperate. She's close—I can smell it thickening in her scent.
"That's it." I grip her hips and thrust up to meet her. "Ride my cock. Take what you need."
Her pussy clamps down on me, milking my shaft in waves, and she screams my name so loud the whole clubhouse probably hears. I hold her hips and fuck up into her through every tremor, wringing out every second of her orgasm.
Before she can come down, I flip us. Pin her beneath me, my cock still buried deep, and hook one of her legs over my shoulder. The new angle lets me sink even deeper.
"One more." I pull back and thrust hard. "Give me one more."
"I can't—"
I pound into her, relentless, my thumb finding her clit and rubbing in tight circles. "You will. Come for me again, Sarah. I need to feel it."
She tries to hold back—can't. Her whole body convulses, her pussy clamping down on me like she'll never let go. The pressure at the base of my spine builds to breaking point.
"Mine." The word rips from my throat—primal, possessive, unstoppable. "You're fucking mine."
Her hands cup my face. Her eyes lock on mine—glazed with pleasure but somehow still seeing me. Seeing everything.
"Yes." She breathes the word against my lips. "I'm all yours, Knox."
I bury my face in her neck and let go. The orgasm crashes through me—I spill inside her with a groan that sounds more animal than man, my hips jerking, my arms shaking as I try not to collapse. She holds on through all of it. Takes everything. Wraps herself around me and refuses to let go.
When I can move again, I roll to my side and pull her against my chest. My arms refuse to let go, my fingers tracing patterns across her skin like they've forgotten how to be still.
Her breathing slows. Her heartbeat steadies against my ribs.
I'm in love with this woman.
The realization doesn't frighten me. It settles into my bones like truth—heavy and certain and inevitable. Twenty years of walls. Twenty years of keeping everyone at distance. She's demolished all of it in a few weeks.
I don't say the words. Not yet. Too soon. She'd run.
So I press my mouth to her hair, breathe her in, and let her sleep.
Dawn paints her skin gold.
Sarah sleeps curled against my side, one hand splayed across my chest, breathing slow and steady. My arm wraps around her waist. Hasn't moved all night.
I watch her breathe.
This small human woman. Running from something that terrifies her, but still brave enough to reach for me. Still trusting enough to fall asleep in a monster's arms. To let me inside her body and hold nothing back.
My fingers trace her shoulder blade. Light enough not to wake her.
I can't remember the last time I slept beside anyone. Can't remember the last time I wanted to.
She's demolished it all.
She stirs, eyes fluttering open to meet mine. The smile that curves her lips is slow and intimate and just for me, and something in my chest stumbles.
"Morning." Her voice rasps with sleep.
"Morning."
She stretches against me. My cock twitches. Not yet. She needs food. Coffee. Time to breathe before I worship her again.
"Sleep okay?"
Her smile widens. "Best I've had in years."
The great room buzzes when we emerge. Brothers crowd the kitchen island, plates piled with eggs and bacon. Coffee scents the air, cutting through everything else.
Finn spots us first.
His smirk could light the room on fire. He raises his mug in silent toast, eyebrow climbing toward his hairline. Doesn't say a word. Doesn't need to.
Rex catches my eye across the room and nods once. Garrett—massive and silent in the corner—tilts his chin in approval. From the minotaur, that means more than a standing ovation from anyone else.
My palm finds the small of Sarah's back, possessive and unmistakable. My brothers don't need words to understand what they're seeing.
Diesel bounds over with his usual puppy energy, practically vibrating. "Are you staying? You're staying, right? Knox never brings anyone here—like, ever. This is huge. Do you like waffles? I made waffles. They're pretty good. The old ladies taught me."
Sarah laughs—bright and genuine—and warmth floods through me.
"Diesel." I keep my voice even. "Breathe."
"Right. Yeah. Sorry." He grins at Sarah. "Waffles?"
"I'd love some waffles."
Lisa appears from the kitchen and pulls Sarah into a hug before I can blink. "About damn time," she announces, loud enough for the whole room. "I thought I'd have to lock you two in a closet."
The old ladies fold Sarah in without hesitation. Lisa presses coffee into her hands. Maria steers her toward the breakfast spread with promises of the best bacon in Oregon. Betty—arrived early with fresh pies—beams at her like a proud mother.
Sarah blushes but doesn't pull away. Doesn't look for exits.
She belongs here.
The thought hits me again, harder than before. She fits into this space I built like she carved it herself. Like she always belonged here and I just didn't know to look for her.
My throat tightens. Hope. That's what this feeling is. Dangerous, fragile hope.
We slip away after breakfast, back to my quarters where it's just the two of us.
I pace the room, hunting for words that won't come. I've faced down threats that would make most men piss themselves. Made decisions that determine lives. And I can't string together a simple sentence.
"Stay." It scrapes out wrong. Too rough. I try again. "I know I'm too old. Too damaged. I've done things that would—"
Sarah crosses the room and stops my words with her mouth.
Her hands frame my face. Her lips press soft against mine—gentler than last night, but no less certain. When she pulls back, her eyes hold steady.
"I'm not going anywhere."
The fist around my lungs loosens. But she's not done.
"But you should know what you're getting into." Her voice drops. "There's something I haven't told you."
I wait. Give her space.
"My ex. Peter." The name falls from her lips like poison. "I got a restraining order, but he treated it like a suggestion."
"Okay, tell me everything."
She sinks onto the edge of my bed. Hugs her arms around herself—the gesture makes her look smaller, younger, more fragile than I know she is.
"We were married for three years. It started small—controlling where I went, who I talked to.
Then the money. His family has so much of it, old money, and he used every cent to trap me.
Expensive lawyers. Witnesses who changed their stories overnight.
Every time I tried to leave, he made sure I couldn't."
Her voice cracks. I settle beside her.
"What happened?"
"It escalated." Her hands shake. "The first time he hit me, he cried afterward.
Promised it would never happen again." A bitter laugh tears from her throat.
"It always happened again. I documented everything—pictures, records, medical reports.
His family's lawyers made it all disappear. Charges never stuck."
Cold fury coils in my gut—not the hot rage I expected, but something worse. Patient and calculating. The kind of anger that plans and waits and strikes when the target least expects it.
"How did you get out?"
"He passed out." She swallows hard. "One night he came home drunk—worse than usual. I thought—" Her voice breaks. "I thought that would be it, it would be the night he went too far and killed me. But he passed out before he could finish what he started—"
She can't finish.
I pull her against me. Hold her while tremors run through her body.
"I packed one bag and drove for three days straight." Her words muffle against my shirt. "I thought I'd finally outrun him. But he has money. Resources. Private investigators who don't stop looking."
"Look at me, Sarah. He'll never touch you again."
Tears swim in her eyes.
"Do you understand me?" I grip her chin, gentle but firm. "Never. I will burn down everything he loves before I let him near you. I will end him."
She nods and buries her face against my shirt.
I hold her until the shaking stops.
Evening settles over Nightfall Cove. I'm in my office reviewing parts invoices when my phone buzzes.
Finn: Sarah's shift ended. She's at her place. Jax's on the building.
I text back: Good. On my way.
The invoices blur together. Can't focus on anything but getting back to her.
My phone buzzes again.
Sarah: Can you come over?
I'm on my bike before the phone hits my pocket.
Her building looks quiet when I arrive. Jax gives me a subtle nod from across the street—all clear.
But the second I step through her door, I know something's wrong.
Sarah stands in the middle of her living room, pale as death, phone clutched in white-knuckled fingers.
"What happened?"
She doesn't answer. Just extends the phone toward me.
Unknown number. Voicemail notification.
I take the phone from her trembling fingers and press play.
A male's voice slithers through the speaker. "I found you, Sarah. Did you really think you could hide from me?"
A pause. Heavy breathing.
"I'm coming for you. And when I get there—" He laughs—the sound of a man who's never faced consequences in his life. "Well. We both know how this ends."
The message cuts off.
I stare at the phone. My vision darkens at the edges. The feral thing doesn't rattle its cage this time—it tears through the bars, floods my bloodstream, turns everything sharp, cold and predatory.
Sarah watches my face. "Knox—"
I pull out my phone and hit Finn's number. He answers on the first ring. "Church. Tonight. Everyone." I don't wait for a response before hanging up.
Sarah watches me, still pale, still trembling. I cross the room and take her hands in mine. "Pack a bag. You're coming back to the clubhouse with me."
"Knox—"
"We're going to figure this out." I tip her chin up, make her meet my eyes. "But you're not staying here alone. Not tonight. Not until we have a plan."