Page 95 of Doomed

Knox’s eyes narrow as he studies my face. “Stop thinking about that shit. Now.”

His hands grip my hips tighter, fingers digging into my flesh. “I want you here with me. Ride me like a fucking rodeo, beautiful. Show me what that perfect body can do.”

The command in his voice snaps me back to the present. I plant my hands on his broad shoulders and lift myself until just the tip of him remains inside me before slamming back down. Knox’s head falls back, a strangled groan tearing from his throat.

“That’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Fucking take what’s yours.”

I roll my hips, finding a rhythm that has us both panting. I bounce on his lap, my thighs burning with the effort as I ride himhard and fast. Sweat beads on my skin, my hair falling in my face as I lose myself in the sensation.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Knox growls, his eyes fixed on where our bodies join. “Your cunt is like heaven, so fucking divine.”

I arch my back, changing the angle so he hits that perfect spot inside me.

“The way you take my cock,” he continues, voice strained with pleasure. “So fucking perfect.”

I increase my pace, grinding down harder, chasing my pleasure as much as giving him his. Knox looks utterly wrecked beneath me, his control slipping as I work him mercilessly.

“Fuck, Bianca,” he gasps, hands moving to cup my breasts, thumbs roughly circling my nipples. “The things you do to me. So fucking good. Better than anything I’ve ever felt.”

His words are spoken with such softness that they sound almost poetic. The look of pure bliss on his face makes me feel powerful.

“Don’t stop,” he commands, though it sounds more like begging. “Ride me till we both break, beautiful.”

Without thinking, I plant my hands on his shoulders and shift my weight, lifting myself up. In one fluid motion, I place my feet on the sofa cushions on either side of his thighs, crouching over him like some wild creature.

Knox’s eyes widen, darkening with lust as he takes in my new position.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, his hands immediately gripping my waist to steady me.

I lower myself onto him, taking him deeper than before in this new angle. The sensation is so intense I have to pause, adjusting to the fullness.

“Don’t you dare stop now,” Knox growls, fingers digging into my skin.

I don’t. Balancing on my feet, I begin to move—no longer the gentle riding from before. Now I’m slamming down onto him, using my thighs to lift myself almost completely off before driving back down. Each impact sends shockwaves through both our bodies.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by my desperate gasps and Knox’s deep, guttural groans. Sweat slicks our bodies as I work him mercilessly.

“Holy fuck,” Knox growls, his head thrown back, veins standing out on his neck. “Fucking milk my cock, beautiful. Make me breed you.”

I increase my pace, clenching around him with each downstroke, squeezing him inside me exactly as he demands.

“Yes,” I pant, feeling myself teetering on the edge. “Give it to me, Knox.”

His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise as I feel the first hot spurt inside me. The sensation of his release triggers my own, and I shatter around him, my inner walls pulsing and milking him for everything he has.

Knox collapses against the back of the couch, his breathing ragged as the remnants of his climax fade. His hands grip my hips, keeping me firmly seated on him as if afraid I might escape.

“Holy fuck, beautiful,” he pants, his blue eyes blazing. “That was incredible. You’re incredible.”

I feel a flush spread across my already heated skin at his praise. Even now, after everything we’ve done together, his raw, unfiltered admiration affects me.

“The way you move,” he continues, voice husky as his hands slide up to cradle my face. “The way you take me. The fucking sounds you make when you come. Everything about you drives me crazy.”

His thumbs trace my cheekbones, and it’s so gentle, contrasting with the crudeness of his words. That’s Knox—all contradictions. Rough yet tender. Dangerous yet protective.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he declares, loud enough that I’m sure his neighbors could hear if he had any. “A fucking eternity wouldn’t be enough time with you, Bianca.”

Knox’s declaration comes without hesitation or filter—just emotion. He doesn’t just feel things; he broadcasts them, making sure everyone knows exactly where he stands.