Page 21 of Doomed (Blackwood Brothers #2)

BIANCA

I stare at the package sitting on my coffee table. It arrived by courier an hour ago—a sleek black box tied with a red ribbon that matches the invitation I received for the Hollow’s Hunt. Tomorrow. My stomach twists with anxiety that becomes more intense with each passing hour.

With trembling fingers, I pull the ribbon loose and lift the lid.

Nestled in black tissue paper lies a porcelain mask, hand-painted in blue with delicate gold filigree scrolling.

It’s exquisite—the craftsmanship evident in every delicate curve and line.

Half-face, designed to cover from the nose to the forehead while leaving my mouth and jaw exposed.

A small card sits beside it:

“Every prey must wear its mask. It’s tradition. Wear it well, Bianca. I’ll be looking for you. —K”

I lift the mask, testing its weight. It’s lighter than it looks, with satin ribbons to secure it. The thought of wearing it while being hunted sends a chill down my spine. This is real. I actually agreed to this insanity. My thighs clench in anticipation.

“What the hell am I doing?” I whisper to my empty apartment.

The lure of danger, of the unknown, and Knox’s determination to catch me make it impossible to back out now. I need this as much as I need air.

My phone vibrates on the counter, startling me. Unknown number. I consider allowing it to go to voicemail, but curiosity wins.

“Hello?”

“Getting cold feet yet, Hayes?” Knox’s voice slides through the speaker, smug as ever.

My heart jumps. “How did you know I was looking at your gift?”

His laugh is low, intimate. “Do you like it?”

“It’s... beautiful.” I trace a finger along the mask’s edge. “Why are you calling from a withheld number? More games?”

“Would you have answered if you saw my name on your screen?” Knox asks.

I sigh, setting the mask back in its box. “No, probably not. You’re insufferable enough in person.”

“And yet here we are, talking anyway.” I can practically hear his smile through the phone. “Fate has a funny way of pushing us together, doesn’t it?”

“I’d call it harassment more than fate.” Despite my words, I find myself curling up on the couch, phone pressed to my ear.

“I have a suggestion for you. A way to prepare for tomorrow,” Knox says, his voice dropping to that dangerous low register that makes my skin prickle.

“I’m not interested in your suggestions.”

“Touch yourself right now for me,” he says bluntly. “Get yourself off. Consider it... training.”

“Excuse me?” I nearly drop the phone.

“If you don’t, you’ll come too easily when I get my hands on you tomorrow. And I want to enjoy the chase, Bianca. I want to take my time with you.”

“You’re a pig, Blackwood.” My voice shakes with indignation, but a hunger hot and forbidden unfurls in my stomach.

“Maybe,” he agrees. “But right now, I’m a pig who’s hard and aching for you. Been this way since I first saw you in that gallery.”

My breath catches. “Stop it.”

“I’m stroking myself right now,” he continues, his voice rougher. “Thinking about you riding me, those perfect tits bouncing as you take all of me.”

“This is so out of line?—”

“I bet you’re wet already from my voice.” Knox’s breathing changes, growing heavier. “I can’t wait to taste you, to feel how tight you’ll be around my cock.”

I should hang up. I should absolutely end this call. But heat blooms between my thighs, and my free hand instinctively moves to my stomach, fingers splaying across the thin material of my T-shirt.

“Tell me you’re not thinking about it,” he challenges. “Tell me you’re not imagining my mouth between your thighs, my hands pinning your wrists above your head while I make you scream.”

I press my thighs together, trying to quell the ache building there. “Knox...”

“Is that a yes, Hayes?” Knox’s voice drops even lower. “Because I can hear it in your breathing. The way it’s gone softer and breathy.”

“I’m not—” I start to deny it, but my hand has already slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts.

“You don’t need to admit it,” he says. “Just listen to me. Let me tell you what I’m going to do to you when I catch you.”

I bite my lip, eyes closing as his words wrap around me.

“I’m going to pin you against one of those maze walls,” Knox continues. “Your wrists above your head, my body pressed against yours. I’ll tear that mask off so I can see your face when I slide my hand between your legs.”

A soft sound escapes me before I can stop it.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “When I find you, I’ll make you face the wall. Your hands flat against it while I lift the dress they’ll give you, inch by inch. I’ll trace my fingers up your thighs, so slowly you’ll be begging me to touch you where you need it most.”

My fingers move of their own accord, circling my clit.

“I’ll drop to my knees before you,” his voice grows ragged. “Spread your legs apart with my hands, and then I’ll taste you, lick into you until your legs shake and you’re crying my name.”

“Knox...” I breathe.

“You’ll be so wet for me. I’ll lift you up, wrap your legs around my waist, and push into you right there against the wall.”

My phone buzzes with a notification. “I sent you a message,” he says. “Look at it.”

I pull the phone away from my ear, opening his message. A photo fills my screen—Knox’s cock, hard and straining against his hand. It’s impossibly thick, veined, the head flushed dark with arousal.

“Oh god,” I moan, the sound echoing in my quiet apartment.

“That’s what’s waiting for you tomorrow,” Knox says, satisfaction evident in his voice. “That’s what’s going to fill you up when I catch you.”

I try to steady my breathing as the urgency of my arousal intensifies. My fingers move faster, circling in tight patterns that make my hips lift from the couch.

“You excited, Hayes?” Knox’s voice is rough with desire. “Because when I catch you, I’m going to breed you over and over during those seventy-two hours. You’re going to be so full of my cum that your thighs will look like that pussy is weeping for me.”

My rhythm falters, his words sending a jolt of arousal through me.

“You’re going to be so fucking full of my cum by the end,” he continues, “there’ll be no refuting who you belong to.”

My pussy clenches at his words. Images flood my mind—Knox pinning me down, filling me with cum. I should be outraged, should hang up immediately. Instead, my fingers move faster, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Fuck,” I whisper, unable to stop myself.

“Well, well,” Knox says, his voice a dangerous purr. “Sounds like my princess has a breeding kink.”

I bite my lip hard, embarrassment mingling with the intense arousal coursing through me.

“That’s perfect,” he continues, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Because so do I.”

“I don’t—” I start to deny it, but the words dissolve into another moan.

“Don’t lie,” Knox says. “I can hear how wet you are as your fingers keep slamming inside your cunt. You want me to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum.”

“Knox,” I moan, unable to contain it as my fingers move faster.

His breathing grows heavier on the other end of the line. “Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that.” A pause, then: “Send me a photo. I want to see how wet that pussy is for me.”

The request snaps me partially back to reality. Despite the haze of arousal clouding my judgment, some semblance of self-preservation remains.

“No,” I gasp, touching myself but regaining enough clarity to refuse.

Knox laughs, the sound deep and knowing. “Fine. I’ll do far more than see it during the Hunt anyway.” His voice drops to that dangerous tone again, the one that makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. “The wait will only increase my hunger. Makes me hard again just thinking about what’s coming.”

The promise of tomorrow—of being hunted, caught, claimed—sends another rush of heat between my thighs. I bite my lip to stifle another moan, torn between shame and arousal.

“Such a good girl,” Knox purrs, his voice thick with desire. “Why don’t you turn on your video? I want to see your face when you come.”

My stomach drops. As aroused as I am, that’s a line I won’t cross. “No chance.”

“One way, then,” he suggests, his tone dropping to that dangerous register that makes my toes curl. “I want you to watch me come. Let me show you exactly what you’re in for.”

A moan escapes me before I can stop it, the image of Knox stroking himself too enticing to resist. My rational mind screams this is a terrible idea, but the throbbing of my clit drowns out reason.

“Okay,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

The call beeps as Knox switches to video, and suddenly his face fills my screen—flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. The camera angle shifts downward, revealing his bare chest, sculpted abs, and then...

“Fuck,” I breathe.

His cock is even more impressive in motion. Knox’s hand wraps around the thick shaft, stroking slowly from base to tip. A bead of pre-cum glistens at the head as he circles his thumb over it.

“You like what you see?” His voice is strained now, rougher with each stroke of his hand. “This is all for you. Think about how it’s going to feel stretching you open.”

I press my fingers harder against my clit, matching his rhythm. “Yes,” I admit, abandoning all sense of dignity. “God, yes.”

Knox’s pace quickens, his breathing heavy through the phone. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

The last threads of my resistance snap. “I’m aching for you,” I confess, my voice breaking. “I can’t stop thinking about how you’d feel inside me.”

“Be a good girl and rub your clit while you finger yourself,” Knox commands, his voice rough with desire. “Make yourself come for me.”

I should hang up. I should absolutely end this call and throw my phone across the room. But watching him stroke himself, hearing the gravel in his voice—I can’t resist. My fingers follow his instructions, circling my clit while I push two fingers inside myself.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his pace increasing. “Let me hear you.”

The combination of his voice, the visual of his thick cock on my screen, and my own desperate touches pushes me toward the edge faster than I’d like to admit.

“I’m close,” I gasp, unable to hold back.

“Come for me, Bianca,” Knox growls. “Now.”

My body obeys before my mind can object. My back arches off the couch as I cry out, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen, on Knox’s hand stroking his length.

“Damn,” Knox groans, his muscles tensing. Thick ropes of cum spill onto his abs, making a mess across his sculpted torso. His breathing is ragged as he looks into the camera, a satisfied smirk forming. “It’s a damn shame you’re not here to lick it all up.”

I moan at the image his words create, pulsing with the aftershocks.

Knox’s expression shifts from raw desire to smug satisfaction. “I knew it,” he says, his cocky tone returning. “I fucking knew you wanted me. Deep down, beneath all that vehement denial.”

Reality crashes back. What have I done? Shame and frustration flood through me, dousing any lingering pleasure from the orgasm that just ripped through me.

“Fuck off, Knox,” I snap, suddenly furious with myself for giving in. I end the call before he can respond, tossing my phone onto the cushion beside me.

Seconds later, it buzzes with a text:

No matter how much you try to pretend, I know the truth now. And there’ll be no refuting it when I’m balls deep inside you during the Hunt.

I press my palms against my eyes, wishing I could erase the last twenty minutes of my life. Tomorrow can’t possibly come fast enough—and simultaneously, I’m terrified of what will happen when it does.