Page 94 of Doomed

“What’s wrong?” I ask, setting down my sketchbook.

Knox shakes his head, pacing the living room. “Nothing.”

But everything about him screams tension—the way his fingers keep flexing, how his eyes dart around the room, his breathing slightly too controlled.

“Bullshit,” I say. “Something happened at your business meeting, didn’t it?”

His blue eyes flash to mine. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I walk toward him slowly. “Then don’t talk.”

Before he can respond, I press my palm against his chest, pushing him back until his legs hit the couch. With gentle pressure, I guide him to sit down. His eyes widen slightly as I sink to my knees between his legs.

“Bianca, you don’t have to?—”

“Shh.” I place my finger against his lips. “Let me help you relax.”

My fingers work his belt buckle, then the button of his jeans. Knox watches me, his breathing changing as I pull down his zipper. When I free him from his boxers, he’s already hardening in my hand.

I take him into my mouth without hesitation, watching his head fall back against the couch cushions.

“Fuck,” he groans, one hand finding its way into my hair.

I take him deeper, using everything I’ve learned about what he likes. The tension shifts to a different kind as his fingers tighten in my hair.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “God, you’re perfect at this. My perfect little cocksucker.”

The crude praise sends a thrill through me as I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper.

I work him with my mouth, feeling him swell and harden further with each pass of my lips. His breathing grows ragged, hips tensing as he fights the urge to thrust. I can tell he’s close—I’ve learned his signals in our time together. The way his thighs tighten, how his grip in my hair becomes almost painful.

“Stop,” he orders, pulling me off him. His eyes are dark with desire as he yanks me up. “Come here.”

In one fluid motion, he maneuvers me onto his lap, his hands gripping my waist under his shirt—the only thing I’m wearing. I sink down onto him with a gasp, feeling him fill me completely.

“God, you feel so good,” I whisper, adjusting to the stretch of him inside me.

Instead of the hard, punishing pace I expect, Knox moves me slowly, guiding my hips in gentle circles. It’s tender, almost sweet—so unlike him that I search his face for answers.

“What happened today?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair as he rocks into me. “Why are you so tense?”

He sighs, his hands tightening on my hips. “Business complications.”

“Tell me,” I urge, kissing along his jaw.

Knox meets my eyes, moving inside me with thrusts that make me moan. “Our supposed new supplier tried to off our trusted one. Ambush at the meeting.”

I freeze mid-movement. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No,” he murmurs, lifting me slightly and sliding deeper. “But all hell is going to break loose now.”

The implication of his words settles over me as pleasure builds in my core. A drug war. Violence. Danger. Knox’s world suddenly feels very real and very close.

“Are you in danger?” I can’t keep the concern from my voice.

His eyes soften momentarily before that dangerous glint returns. “Don’t worry about me, beautiful. I can handle myself.”

But I am worried. As he fills me over and over with gentle strokes, I can’t help feeling nervous about what’s coming. It sounds like they’re on the edge of a war, and Knox is right in the middle of it.