“What are you doing here, Knox?” I ask. “This is the women's room.” "Which I made sure would be out of bounds for a while.” Of course he did. Probably bribed someone important. I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the way his shirt clings to his torso, hinting at the tattoos that snake down his arms. "Are you stalking me now?” I say. He chuckles, the sound low and throaty. "You look ravishing in that dress. I wanted to see it up close." "You've seen it. Now leave." Pushing off the door, he strides toward me. Instinctively, I take a step back. Then another. Until the cold, tiled wall presses against my back. "Leave, Knox." He stops mere inches away, his breath warm against my skin. "You know what would make the dress even better, Kitten? Seeing it raised and sitting atop your pretty waist as I take you." "If you touch me, I'm going to scream." He tilts his head. "Do it. I’ve imagined what that would sound like. How loudly do you scream, Sloane? Think the club's noise will dro
“Of course I have to think about him,” I say, more to myself than Knox. “It's what any normal person would do.” I hastily adjust my glasses, the frames askew from our passionate, mind-blowing, and reckless escapade. My fingers tremble as they push the lenses up the bridge of my nose. I’m acutely aware of the mascara streaking down my cheeks, painting me as the very picture of post-coital disarray. I rake my hands through my hair, attempting to tame the wild strands, and smooth down my dress. In the mirror’s reflection, Knox watches me. His expression is unreadable. His dark eyes track my every movement, and even though I try not to look at him directly, I can feel the heat of his stare. “Your post-nut clarity is annoying,” he says. “I feel used right now, Kitten.” “Then you've got it better. I feel stupid.” I turn around to finally face him, and his eyes zero in on me. “Because you fucked me and liked it?” he asks. I avert my eyes, shame curling in my gut. I’ve just had sex wi
*** ~~KNOX~~ *** “What do you expect me to say, Sloane?” I ask. The club’s bass thrums through my veins, a reminder that there's chaos all around us, not just the one I started. Sloane stands in front of me, her eyes burning with fury. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. “The truth,” she demands. “Tell me the truth! Was this a game to you? You slept with me to get to your brother?” I find my eyes drifting toward her lips, lips that are still slightly swollen from our kisses. That lustful need is stirring deep within me again. This wasn’t the plan. I came here for a leisurely evening with Hunter, perhaps to plant a seed of doubt about Delilah. But then I saw her in that damn dress, and all rational thought evaporated. I hadn’t intended to devour her against the restroom wall or bend her over the countertop. Yet, here we are. And I’m still thinking about it. I avert my eyes, focusing on the condensation sliding down my drinking glass, the one currently abandoned on my table. “The
*** ~~SLOANE~~ *** Knox rolls his eyes and starts the car, turning up the heater as well. Warm air washes over my wet skin as we drive in silence. No music. No snarky one-liners. At some point, it becomes unsettling. Knox is just… driving. At a normal pace. Like a normal person. No engine revving. No cutting corners like he’s in Fast & Furious. He doesn’t floor it. He just drives. And I hate how uneasy that makes me. I turn to him. His eyes are on the road, focused. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, and I suddenly remember where those lips have been. What they did. My face flames. “You’re driving at a normal pace,” I say, trying to distract myself. “Finally doing something right for the first time in your life?” He doesn’t look at me. “Doing the right thing is overrated.” “Only you would say a thing like that.” “I just want to live long enough to do the wrong things with the wrong people.” When he says this, his face turns in my direction. I look a
I can feel Knox’s hands gripping my waist tightly, eyes fixed on mine in the mirror as he rams into me from behind. “Let go for me, Kitten,” he says. And I do. My whole body trembles like a violin string being pulled taut. His breath is hot on my neck, and my moans echo in the restroom. There’s a knock at the door. A voice. It's Finn yelling my name, telling me not to do this. ‘I don't want you screwing my brother, Sloane.’ But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. I— My eyes snap open. My head is pounding. My mouth tastes like regret and bourbon. And the sounds from that terrible dream are reverberating inside my skull. I groan and throw an arm over my eyes. God, I hate alcohol. I’m also starving. I glance at the nightstand clock. It's almost eleven. How did I sleep this long? I could have sworn I was just a little bit tipsy last night. Of all the things my brain could’ve rehashed from last night—the fight, Finn's anger, my shame—it chose the part where I had sex with Knox. I
Victoria rolls her eyes and strolls over to her husband. She kisses him lightly on the cheek. “Of course they can, silly.” “I don’t think so,” he says. “If anyone walks into this house and says he’s your best friend, I’ll kill him.” Victoria throws her head back and laughs. “You’re such a Neanderthal, Julian. People don’t think with their genitals all the time. Sloane and Finn are emotionally supportive friends. It’s natural. Besides, I’m a little too old to be having new friends, so don’t trouble yourself about killing anyone for my sake.” I want to disappear. They're talking about me and Finn, dissecting our entire relationship dynamic, as though we're not right here. Finn glances at me, smiling like this is totally normal. The plus side is that Julian has lost his brooding expression. He's now grinning at his wife. Watching them together—how Julian softens, how Victoria looks at him as though they haven't been together for decades already—it stirs something foreign in me. So
My heart skips several beats at once. And not in the cutesy, butterflies-in-the-stomach way. No, this is the kind of beat-skipping that punches you square in the chest and makes your lungs forget how to breathe. Every memory from last night comes flooding back like a filthy little slideshow behind my eyelids. My thighs clench on instinct. My mouth is dry. My pulse is chaos. “You know Sloane?” Victoria asks, reminding me that there are, in fact, other people in the room. Knox doesn’t look away. “I do.” “From New York?” He moves away from his mother and drops into the nearest couch with that lazy grace he always carries. At least his eyes are no longer on me, and I can finally exhale. “Actually,” he replies, “we met for the first time yesterday.” I swear I hear Finn inhaling deeply and holding that breath. Although I can't get a good look at his face from this angle, the stillness of his posture confirms it. Victoria turns to look at me. I try my best to seem innocent, hoping sh
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I hate that my heart is pounding so loudly I’m afraid everyone in the house can hear it. “It’s so…” “Beautiful?” he finishes, with that cocky little tilt of his head. Yes. But that wasn’t the word I was going for. Exquisite. Breathtaking. Impossibly intimate in front of his entire family. That’s what it is. But I nod. He steps behind me, and the world tilts a little. Maybe from the anticipation. Or maybe because I’ve stopped breathing again. He doesn’t touch me right away. He leans in, close enough for me to feel the heat rolling off his chest. His scent curls around me like smoke. He brushes my hair to the side with slow, intentional fingers, his knuckles grazing the back of my neck. My skin erupts in goosebumps. “Relax,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. As if that’s even an option. I feel him reach around me, the chain of the necklace grazing my collarbone. His knuckles brush my jaw on the way up, unintentional maybe, but i
I stare at Finn, still in disbelief that he’d reduced what Knox and I have to sex.He holds my gaze like he’s waiting for me to agree with him, like he’s said something rational. Like what just came out of his mouth was anything other than emotionally manipulative, absurd bullshit.“You’ve got to be kidding me.”He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me, face taut, eyes tired, a strange sort of desperation clinging to him like fog.“Have you gone mad?” I ask.“Me? Why am I the one being accused of madness here when you’re clearly thinking with your vagina?”My jaw drops.“If the problem was sex,” he goes on, tone flat and deadpan, “you could’ve just asked me. I’m your friend. I would’ve helped you out.”Each word is worse than the last. I can’t even respond fast enough. Fury is rolling in hot waves up my spine. My pulse kicks at my temples.“You know,” I say slowly, “I came here today because I felt guilty. I felt bad for leaving you in Asheville without a word, even after you pushed me awa
Knox doesn’t move when we pull into the hospital parking lot.His fingers stay curled tight around the steering wheel, gaze forward. The engine is off, but his body hasn’t caught up. The tension in his arms is visible, humming under his rolled-up sleeves. Even the little lines around his eyes seem sharper.I unbuckle my seatbelt and glance at him. “Aren’t you coming?”He shakes his head once. “No. I’ve got some things to take care of.”“Work stuff?”“Mmhmm.”I don’t press. Instead, I lean toward him, dropping a kiss on his cheek. But the moment I start to pull away, his hand shoots up, tangling into my hair and tugging me back to him.His mouth crashes against mine with zero warning—hot, rough, claiming. His teeth nip my bottom lip, just enough to sting, and his tongue follows to soothe it. I moan, helpless against the sheer heat of it, my fingers bunching in the front of his shirt.When he finally releases me, I’m breathless. Unsteady.He doesn’t say anything at first. Just reaches i
He clears his throat and speaks first. “I am trying to think of a decent reason why you’d want to help Finn,” he says, voice steady. “He broke an arm, not his spine. He has Delilah. If you think he needs help, it can be arranged—without you being there. So what’s the problem? Is there something else I should know about your incessant need to save him?”I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.Because he’s right.I don’t have to be there.But I need to be. Because despite everything, I still feel guilty for cutting him off. Finn doesn’t keep friends. He has acquaintances, followers, yes—but not real people who show up. Except me. And Delilah.And then… there’s the other reason.“He’s calling everyone in my family,” I say quietly. “And I have to make him stop. The only way I can do that is by handling him carefully.”“How about you just tell him to stop?”“Do you even know your brother? You think he’s going to pause his revenge spree because I said so?”“Revenge spree?” He lifts
I wake up sore all over, having no single idea how I ended up back in Knox's bedroom.The room is bright as sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting long, pale rectangles on the wood floor. I’m in his bed, tangled in the sheets, my skin sticky with sweat and something else. The air smells like him—like clean soap, expensive cologne, and the raw scent of what we did last night.Except… I don’t remember how it ended.The last thing I recall is him unlocking me from the guillotine in that dark, red-lit room, my legs shaking so violently I couldn’t stand. I think I remember him wrapping a blanket around me. Maybe. After that? Nothing.I push up on my elbows with a wince. Every muscle in my body complains, a deep, pleasant ache settling low in my belly, between my legs, my thighs. Even my jaw hurts a little. Jesus. Did I faint? I must have.Honestly, with the way he wrecked me, passing out is probably the most reasonable response.The bed is cold beside me. Knox isn't here. I rea
I hear him backing away from me and climbing back onto the bed, and then I feel him pulling out the humming device from my ass. I moan loudly, bucking my hips as the sensation of it leaving sends waves of pleasure through my body. It definitely feels better leaving than when it went in. He pushes it back into me, and I see stars, my body convulsing with the intensity of the sensation."You're seriously dripping down your leg," he says. "Didn't you just cum twice outside?"He slaps my vulva, and indeed, it makes a wet sound, confirming his words. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal."Now, I have to make sure that no drop goes to waste," he murmurs. Then I feel something wet on my left inner thigh. His tongue laps up whatever is flowing down, and I moan, needing his mouth on the part that aches most, the part with those balls that tingle when they move. The humming device in my ass is only worsening the need.He leaves my left thigh and starts fe
I exhale, trying to picture the room in my mind.But spinning has done its work. I have no bearings. I could be facing the wall. The bed. That terrifying X-shaped frame.That’s the point.He didn’t want me to choose. He wanted fate to choose.So I take a step. Then another. I keep walking, arms out, breath shallow. My palms skim the air. Then.Bump.My knees hit something.I reach forward. Cold iron. Then softer—mattress.The bed.“Great choice,” Knox murmurs—right into my ears.I jump. “Jesus, you scared me.”The words barely leave my mouth before he’s pushing me forward, pressing my head down onto the bed. My ass is lifted high into the air, and a sharp swat lands on my ass cheek. I yelp in surprise. Knox's voice is low and commanding behind me."What did I say about talking, Bunny?"I bite my lip, remembering his rule. "No talking, Master."He lifts me even higher, and the next spank lands directly on my vulva, targeted precisely at my clit. The sensation is electrifying, and I moa
I take a step back on instinct. He keeps walking toward me, a predator who knows the prey won’t run far. My back hits the shelf. The dildo is still in my hand when he stops in front of me and gently pries it from my fingers, placing it back in its spot. He leans in. “Do you know why I brought you here?” His voice is low. I shake my head. “Use your words, Sloane.” “No.” “I like this room,” he murmurs. My throat works. “It’s a very… unusual room.” “Are you scared?” I hesitate. My heart is practically jumping out of my chest. The red light makes everything feel sinister and charged. I don’t know what kind of things he’s done here. I don’t know what he plans to do to me. But I can’t deny the heat rising in my belly. The curiosity tingling along my spine. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’m scared. But I meant it when I said I want to know everything about you—even the scary parts.” He grabs me by the neck and pulls me close until our mouths are a breath apart. “Are you sure about that? So
*** ~~SLOANE~~ *** My hands are wrapped around Knox’s neck as he leads me back into the house. I’m clinging to him with trembling legs. My skin is damp from everything he just did to me outside. I don’t know how I’m even conscious right now. My body feels wrung out, like someone twisted every drop of strength out of me and still left me wanting more. He only pauses once, just inside the door. He leans forward, reaches down, and slides off his house slippers with the same precision he used yesterday when we came in through the other door. Neatly. One foot, then the other. Perfectly lined beside the door. And I just… watch. Not because it matters. But because I can’t figure him out. I’ve seen him walk into other places without blinking. His parents’ house. My apartment. A hotel room. He never gave a damn where he tossed his shoes. But here? In his own home, he does this. Why? Not like he'll answer. If I had to put pennies in a jar for everything I couldn’t explain about Knox
I stare into her eyes. “A taste of what?” “Me.” “What part exactly?” She cocks an eyebrow. “Is there a part you don’t like?” “Not exactly.” She draws again from the cigar, eyes watering as she braves the burn. Then she leans forward, blowing smoke into my face. “Is that a yes or a no?” she says. “Do you want a taste of me or not?” I grab her waist and pull her flush against me. “Shoot me if I ever say no, Bunny.” “I would if I knew where you kept your gun.” “Pardon me. I assumed you saw it in the car when you stole my keys.” She chuckles low. “I don’t believe that’s the only one you have.” “Ha.” She leans sideways and crushes the butt of the cigar on the ashtray, letting it fall. She then takes my hand and presses it between her legs, guiding it beneath the hem of the shirt. Then she lifts her hips slightly and lets me in, pushing three of my fingers inside her. And she moans—soft at first. Her head tilts back, exposing the long line of her neck, glasses sliding further