Knuckles X Reader Novels & Stories

Dmitry Kyschove was going to do the same with his enemies! Hey My dear Readers, how're y'all. Hope you like the story. Please follow me on f******k (Elk Entertainment) and on i*******m elk_entertainment for more info about the characters and my other books! See you soon in the sequel of this story!

His index finger and his thumb lift my chin up slightly. My pussy is aching so bad, I want his fingers inside me working magic to find my G-spot and make me come all over him with my stickiness. “Just one kiss, Kenna. I promise that is all I want.” “You will want more and I just don’t think I can give it to you, Xander. Not tonight.” Finally, thank God my brain is kicking in. I thought it had all but gone and left me rendering me totally senseless. My breathing is coming in gasps as he rubs his knuckles along my jawline now. I can smell his cologne, it’s a heady mix of musk and something like lemon zest. It’s fresh yet masculine.

Karen shrieked. Yeah, strike her face first. I heard punches and kicks and bet it hurt like crazy. I kept my eyes closed and readied myself to be punched. But I never received any. Did Karen take all the beating? @DeathWish All Right Reserved 2021 Sena Mangampo

In a blur of Alpha speed, I crossed the dais and slammed Brandon against the stone pillar. I pinned him to it with my hand wrapped tightly around his throat. "You dare speak about my mate like she’s a prize for your filthy bed?" I growled like an awakened monster. "No! I'm sorry, Alpha. I didn't—" With a quick, vicious sweep of my hand, my claws unsheathed and raked violently across Brandon's face. Blood spattered across the floor as his flesh shredded under my sharp nails. Brandon shrieked in agony, dropping to his knees and clutching his bleeding, disfigured face.

My library professor whose deep commanding voice made my thighs clench during lectures. The man I’d fantasized about bending me over these very tables and fucking me senseless until I can’t remember my name. I opened the book, and the dedication page read: For those who crave quiet darkness.” My breath hitched. I flipped to the next page and started reading. “She knelt before him in the silence of stacks, skirts pushed high, panties already soaked. “Read it out,” He ordered. “Every filthy word, while I taste how wet you’ve become for me.”

The scrap of lace fell away, baring your breasts to his hungry gaze. "Fuck, Y/N. You're perfect," *he rasped, calloused hands cupping the soft globes reverently. He thumbed your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers until they pebbled tightly. Dipping his head, Alec drew one rosy peak into the wet heat of his mouth, suckling greedily as his tongue laved the tender flesh.*

Faint red marks still linger on my knuckles where he gripped so tight. Killian Voss... I close my eyes. What kind of person are you, really?

Knox is on the floor. Shirtless, soaked in sweat, and something about his body is WRONG in a way that my brain tries to reject before my eyes finish processing it. The muscles under his skin are moving – MOVING, shifting and rippling like something underneath is trying to rearrange itself, and his hands are pressed flat against the hardwood and his fingers are tipped with something that isn’t fingernails. They’re longer and curved and dark and they’ve gouged lines into the floor like trenches, and the word my brain supplies is CLAWS even though that word doesn’t belong in a sentence about a human being.

Thumb on the shoulder rune, dragging slow. "First ink I ever touched. You were pinned under me in the dirt, calling me things that would make Reena blush." "You deserved every one." "This one." Knuckles down the line of script along his ribs, and the muscle jumps under it. "Gym office. You hissed at me like a cat and then leaned in." "Revisionist." I trace one that runs across his chest with two fingers, slow, following the line where it hooks over his collarbone, and watch his face in the mirror while I do it.

I look back at Skinner. He hands me a small knife; I pulls up my shirt sleeve and cut a small line putting the same pressure Knuckles was and all I do is wince slightly. I wave the knife at him when I'm done. I see Knuckles smirking at me. The skin starts to tingle where I put the small cut and I feel a rush run through me.