Page 97 of Doomed

I line myself up, teasing her entrance with the head of my cock. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“You,” she breathes. “Inside me. Now.”

With one hard thrust, I bury myself to the hilt. She cries out, her fingers scrambling for purchase against the slick tile as I set a relentless pace.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” I groan, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “This pussy was made for my cock.”

The water continues to cascade over us as I pound into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the steam-filled bathroom. Her walls clench around me with each thrust, driving me closer to the edge.

“You’re going to come on my cock,” I command, reaching around to circle her clit with my thumb. “And then I’m going to fill you up.”

She moans, trembling as I hit that spot deep inside her. “Yes, yes, I’m close.”

I feel her tightening around me, her breathing becoming erratic.

She shatters with a cry, her pussy pulsing around my cock as pleasure wracks her. The sensation of her climax triggers my own, and I thrust deep, holding her hips flush against mine as I empty myself inside her.

“You’re taking every fucking drop,” I groan, grinding against her as I fill her.

I hold her there for a moment, savoring the sensation of her body trembling around mine. My fingers trace lazy patternsacross her back as we both catch our breath, her skin flushed and perfect under my touch. Nothing feels better than these moments—her pussy still pulsing around me, both of us lost in the afterglow.

I pull away, giving her ass a light smack. “As much as I’d love to go for round two, I’m already running late.”

Quickly, I finish washing, scrubbing away the evidence of our activities. Bianca watches me, her eyes following my movements as I step out and grab a towel.

“Stay in bed. I shouldn’t be long,” I tell her, dressing in record time. I pull on my leather jacket and lean down to kiss her goodbye, lingering longer than I should. “Think about me while I’m gone.”

She grins, that mischievous smile that drives me crazy. “Maybe I will.”

The ride to our warehouse is quick, as my Aprilia RSV4 cuts through the morning traffic. I park next to Xavier’s and Vane’s bikes, striding into the building fifteen minutes late.

My brothers look up as I enter the meeting room.

“Traffic,” I offer before they can ask.

Xavier rolls his eyes. “Bullshit. Your hair’s wet.”

“Can we focus?” I drop into a chair. “What’s Orlov’s status?”

Vane slides a folder across the table. “He’s pissed about us refusing to cut the carnival crew out. Made some noise about going direct to the street in our territory.”

“After the ambush that he tried to pull?” I snort. “Fuck him.”

“He’s desperate,” Xavier adds. “The carnival crew delivers product purer than anything his Moscow connections can provide.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I check it under the table.

It’s Bianca.

Missing you already. Here’s what’s waiting when you get back.

The photo makes my cock instantly hard—Bianca spread out on my bed, fingers between her legs, lips parted.

“Knox!” Xavier snaps. “Focus.”

Another text arrives. This one shows her using the toy I used on her last night. Jesus Christ.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vane asks, noticing my shifting in my seat.