The moment Knox released his cock, she reached for it. She got a tight grip on the base, but she didn’t suck as he’d expected. She proceeded to torture him instead. Licked, nibbled, scratched, and stroked his dick, balls, and perineum until the muscles in his thighs bunched tight enough to ache. He hissed as she circled the head of his cock with her tongue and then flicked his frenulum just right.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “Quit playing, baby, I don’t have the fucking patience for it right now.” She didn’t make him wait any longer. She took him into her mouth and sucked so hard her cheeks hollowed. He groaned. “That’s it.”
Using his hold on her hair, Knox guided her movements, forcing her to suck at his pace; knowing just how deep she could take him before she choked. At the same time, he drove a psychic finger in her pussy and began to finger-fuck her. Her soft moans vibrated around his cock, making him ache to be in her. “Fuck, baby, that’s good.” So good he felt a telling tingle in his balls and knew he couldn’t take any more.
Snatching her head back, he traced her lips with his finger. “I like how swollen your mouth is right now.” He also liked how flushed her cheeks were. Liked that he could smell her arousal even from there. “Stand up and strip for me.” Rising fluidly, she kicked off her shoes and then shed her shirt and jeans. Knox grabbed the gusset of her panties and began pulling them down her legs. “Look how wet you made your panties, baby.” He held them up to show her, and her eyes flared. “Want me to eat you, Harper?”
A fine tremor worked through her body as he let the psychic finger dissipate inside her. “You know what I want,” she said, voice shaky.
“To come.”
Harper blinked, taken off guard, as psychic hands clasped her hips and lifted her. They propped her on the edge of the desk and then spread her legs wide, exposing her pussy. The cool air purring out of the air conditioner blew over her pussy. The way he stared at it—hungry, intense, like a predator that had honedin on its prey—made her inner walls quiver.
With a wave of his hand, Knox shoved aside the objects on the desk. “Lay back. Good girl.” He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer. “Don’t come.”
Harper’s back arched as he pushed his face into her pussy and swiped his tongue between her folds. Jesus, that felt good. He sank his tongue inside her, tasting and swirling and scooping up every bit of cream. She moaned, bucking her hips, needing more.
Thanks to his psychic finger, her pussy felt on fire and was unbelievably sensitive. Each lick of his tongue both soothed and fed the blazing ache. Her orgasm was creeping toward her, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she tipped over the edge. “Knox, no more.”
His fingers tightened on her thighs, and the bite of pain brought her release that little bit closer. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the need to come. But it became harder and harder to fight as his mouth just kept on devastating her pussy.
“I love how you taste.” Like warm, sweet honey. Knox’s tongue did a little foray over the brand in the V of her thighs and then lapped at her once more. “Addictive.” He latched on her clit and suckled gently.
Hissing, Harper reached down to grab a tuft of his hair. She missed, because he rose to his feet. His predatory gaze raked over her, heating her even more, and his mouth then quirked in pure masculine satisfaction. That smugness should have rankled, but she was too damn turned on to care. “Why am I naked when you’re fully dressed?”
“Because I want you to be, baby.” Knox yanked her to him as he thrust forward, ruthlessly slamming his cock home. He closed his eyes as her pussy clamped around him like a hot fist, squeezing and rippling. Nothing in his life had ever felt better than his mate’s pussy—inferno hot and deliciously slick—wrapped so tight around him.
Knox closed his hands around her breasts and squeezed the creamy mounds. He could feel her heart beating through her pussy. “Hook your legs over my shoulders, baby. Good girl.” He fucked her hard. Brutally rammed into her like there was a fever in his blood. Because there was. Her. She was the fever.
She wasn’t just deep under his skin. She was in his blood, bones, cells—everywhere. Filled and soothed every fracture and void inside him.
He plucked at her nipple ring, loving the way it made her inner walls quake around his cock. He would have leaned over and sucked that ring into his mouth if he wasn’t so busy watching his cock—shiny with her cream—slamming into her over and over. The sight made his balls tighten. He kept driving hard and fast, unable to get enough. It had always been that way with Harper. She was a thirst he couldn’t quite quench. A hunger he’d never fully sate. A drug he’d forever crave.
Harper blinked as he suddenly yanked her to feet, roughly spun her, and then bent her over the desk. “What the—” Her mouth fell open as he forcefully shoved every long thick inch of his cock deep in her pussy, hitting a spot that made her groan. Keeping her pinned with a hand on her nape, he hammered into her again. Merciless. Frantic. Winding her tighter and tighter.
She would never admit aloud that she liked it when he held her down, giving her no choice but to take what he gave her. Never admit she liked the dominant way he often—
He landed a sharp slap on her ass, and Harper’s head snapped up. “Ow! That was hard!” Ignoring her, he did it again. And again. Each slap was harder than the one before. She scowled at him over her shoulder. “Stop slapping my ass!”
His eyes bled to black as his demon rose. “You don’t want to be spanked, little sphinx?” it asked.
Not at all liking the dark note in its tone, she hedged, “Um, well … ” A prickly heat suddenly blazed from the palm pressed on her ass—a burn that quickly became pleasure. Her eyes widened as realization hit her. “Oh God, no.” The fucker was branding her ass.
The demon upped its pace, pounding into her like it wanted her sore. The sadistic shit probably did. “One day, I’m going to leave a brand inside you,” it told her. “Yes, little sphinx, I’m going to shove my fingers deep and brand you right there.”
Harper’s hands curled, nails scraping the desk. Pleasure, pain—both had blended until she didn’t know the difference. Her release was so damn close she could almost taste it, and she was sure that it would strike hard and hit her like a freight train.
Just as the prickly burn on her ass began to fade, the pounding thrusts eased a little, and she knew Knox had resurfaced. “Knox, I—” He landed a harsh slap on her throbbing, newly branded flesh. Like that, a powerful shockwave of pleasure/pain jolted through her, and that was it—she was gone.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream as a powerful orgasm forcefully ripped through her, imploding her, making her pussy contract and milk the cock still slamming into her. Teeth sank into the back of her shoulder as Knox stiffened above her, and then she felt every hot splash of his come.
Slumping on the desk, Harper panted. Thoughts hazy, she started to drift up until a hot tongue lapped at the bite on her shoulder. She almost shivered when he then straightened, baring her back to the cool air. As fingers lightly probed the new brand on her ass, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t decide if I want to know what it looks like.”
He hesitated. “It’s a very pretty intricate swirl of thorns.”
Was that amusement she heard in his voice? Harper stiffened. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not sure you’ll want to know.”
Yep, that was definitely amusement. She lifted her head. “Seriously, what’s funny? What did your damn demon do this time?”
“There. I’ve snapped a photo of it.”
“What?” She tried to stand, but his body covered hers once more. “Don’t take photos of my ass, you—oh, my God.” She could only gape at the screen of his cell phone as he slid it in front of her face. The brand was, as he’d said, an intricate swirl of thorns … in the shape of a “K”. “Your demon’s territorialism knows no boundaries.”
“Hmm.” Still fluttering his fingers over the brand, he pressed a kiss to her n
eck, his mouth curved.
She twisted her head to meet his eyes, and found that they were glittering with male satisfaction. “You like it,” she accused.
He shrugged one shoulder. “You have the initial of my first name on your ass. What’s not to like?”
Harper shook her head, gaping. “You’re unbelievable. Really.” And so was her inner demon, since the weirdo also liked it.
He pressed another kiss to her neck. “I should have guessed my demon would brand you again. Drew’s presence is playing on its possessiveness.”
“And on yours.”
“And on mine.”
Feeling his cock thickening inside her once more, Harper’s brows rose. “You really, really like the brand, don’t you?”
He scraped his teeth over the crook of her neck. “I want you again. But this time, you’ll ride me while I sit in my chair.”
The entire time she did, his hand cupped the brand on her ass. Hell, yeah, he liked the brand.
CHAPTER TEN
The following day, Knox had Armand teleport him, Levi, and Larkin to Dion Boughton’s private tropical island. As they waited for the bridge to descend over the moat that bordered Dion’s large stately home, Knox studied the building. It looked out of place amongst exotic plants and coconut trees. Instead, it looked like it belonged in a period drama.
“What’s the point in living on a tropical island if you’re not near the beach?” asked Armand. “Why build it smack bam in the middle of the island?”
“Isolation,” said Knox, watching as a blond, tanned, broad-shouldered male crossed the bridge. Nightmare, Knox immediately sensed. Such breeds were rarely powerful, but this one was strong. He was also brave, because he met Knox’s stare without flinching.
“Mr. Thorne,” he greeted simply before giving the others a brief nod. “Please follow me.”
Levi walked in front while Larkin covered the rear as the four of them followed the Nightmare across the bridge, through a pretty courtyard, and into the building. It was extravagant and ostentatious with its marble floors, rich dark woods, and chandeliers. It also burst with antiques, expensive vases, unusual ornaments, and vintage items. Many of the servants were rare breeds of demon—more collector’s items, really.
Knox’s demon liked shiny things, but it wasn’t impressed by the place. Found it far too pompous and flashy. Perhaps it was Dion’s way of compensating for how very average he was.
The Nightmare led them into the parlor, where Dion waited on his throne-like chair. Only Levi followed Knox inside the room. Larkin and Armand stayed in the wide hallway outside the door, on guard.
Clasping his hands, Dion stood and smiled brightly at Knox. The smile seemed genuine. “It truly is a pleasure to see you again, Knox. I don’t particularly enjoy having visitors, but I do like your company.”
No, he liked having the opportunity to observe Knox in the hope of figuring out what he was. Dion was also fascinated by anything unique, and Knox was certainly that.
He gestured for Knox and Levi to sit. “Would you care for any refreshments?”
“No, thank you,” said Knox, taking a seat on the plush upholstered sofa opposite Dion’s chair. Levi stood near the wall, feet wide apart, arms crossed. The sentinel managed to look cool and casual even as he projected a “Make no wrong moves” message.
Dion sank into his chair. “May I ask how your mate and son are doing?”
“They’re both well, thank you.” Despite the fact that Harper couldn’t argue with Knox’s reservations about it, she’d still wanted to come along. Knox had managed to talk her into staying at home, pointing out that they’d left Asher with the sentinels a lot lately and that their son would benefit from some one-on-one time with her. Yes, Knox had thoroughly played and manipulated her. She’d also been well-aware of it. Still, she’d agreed that Asher would enjoy having her to himself for a while.
“I heard through the grapevine that your little boy is quite the character,” Dion went on.
“I can agree with that,” said Knox, ignoring the prompts for him to speak more about Asher. He would do nothing to pique Dion’s interest in his son.
As if resigned to that, Dion let out a long breath. “You told me during your last visit that you don’t do social calls, so I’m guessing this is business.”
“Of a sort.”
Clasping his hands again, Dion offered him a cordial smile. “Tell me, how can I help you?”
“I’m sure you heard about what happened to Alethea.”
Distaste crossed Dion’s face. “Awful. Just awful. And to have such an undignified death be shared with the world … ” He shook his head. “It would be truly maddening to know your final moments would be uploaded onto the internet for all to see, especially for someone like Alethea.”
Knox tilted his head. “Did you know her well?”
“Not really, no.” Dion stilled, eyes widening just a little. “Am I a suspect? Again?”
“No,” Knox lied. Personally, in Dion’s position, Knox wouldn’t have been reassured, but his response immediately put Dion at ease. “I discovered from Jonas that Alethea was acting strangely before she disappeared.”
Dion’s brow creased. “Disappeared?”
“She wasn’t seen by Jonas for at least five and a half months before her death.”
“Really?” Dion blinked. “I had no idea.”
“I’ve been speaking with everyone who spent time with Alethea running up to her disappearance,” Knox again lied. “You were one of them.”
“Well, yes, but it was at least ten months since I last saw her. I was quite surprised when I received her letter, requesting permission to visit. We had history, but that history was rather ancient. I was curious about what she wanted.”
“And?” Knox prodded.
“She said she’d broken up with Thatcher but that he was harassing her, constantly reaching out to touch her mind. She remembered that I have a psychic barrier here stopping telepathic contact from reaching the island—people can talk mind-to-mind while here, but not with someone who isn’t on the island with them. She was hoping I’d give her sanctuary for a short while.” Dion spread his hands. “She said she simply wanted to be left alone. I, of all people, understand the need for solitude.”
“Would you say she acted strangely at all while here?”
“She was tense. Edgy.” Dion paused. “She spoke of you.”
“Did she?”
“She said she’d always considered you a friend, and she felt that she’d lost that friendship since you met your mate. It saddened her. Especially since, right then, she felt you were the only person who could help her.”
Knox couldn’t imagine Alethea ever admitting to needing aid with anything. He had to wonder if she’d been playing Dion. But for what purpose? “Help her with what?”
“She wouldn’t say. I tried to get her to open up about her problems, but she would always give me this sad look and then shake her head.”
Knox twisted his mouth. “Did you give her a tour of your museum?”
“Several, actually.”
“What about the incorporeal demon you keep in there? Did you show her that?”
Dion went rigid. “How do you know about the incorporeal?” he asked flatly.
“I know many things.”
When Knox didn’t elaborate, Dion cleared his throat and spoke. “Yes, well, I did show her. I keep it in a display case—you can see the demon moving around, if you look close enough.” His eyes lit up, as if just talking about one of his collectibles got him excited. “Sometimes it even glows, you know. I’m not sure if that means it’s attempting to use power, but that would be my best guess.”
“Did Alethea show any interest in it?”
“Yes, she was quite fascinated by it, in fact. She wanted to know all about how I came to own it. Wanted to know if I’d ever free it or consider making a bargain with it. Of course, I have no intention of doing either.” Dion gave him a wry smile. “According to Al
ethea, that makes me a bore. If that is the case, so be it—an incorporeal on the loose can never be a good thing.”
“I agree. Do you still have the incorporeal?”
Dion’s brow puckered. “Yes, of course.”
“Can I see it?”
Eyes brightening, Dion stood. “If you have the time, I can give you a full tour of the museum. But if you’re in a rush, I can simply bring the display case to you.”
Remaining seated, Knox said, “I’m afraid I don’t have very long.”
“Ah. Another time, then. I’ll just be a moment.” Dion’s shoes clicked along the marble floor as he left the room.
I’m not sure if I believe him, said Levi without moving from his spot across the room. He seems genuine, but I don’t trust him one little bit. If he is telling the truth, I’ve got the feeling that Alethea toyed with him for sympathy or something.
The comment echoed Knox’s thoughts. Alethea would never admit to needing help. And I seriously doubt that she ever considered me or anyone else to be a friend. I also can’t envision Thatcher harassing her.
Do you think she needed a place to hide? Or do you think it’s possible that she already knew Dion had an incorporeal demon and she came here with the intention of taking it?
Either is possible.
A minute or so later, Dion reentered the room, carrying a display case. His steps were slow, his expression one of utter confusion.
“This is it?” Knox asked, standing.
Dion shook his head. “No. It’s a copy of my case. A very good copy. It’s also empty.” He stared at it, expression thoughtful. Then his eyes cut to Knox. “Odd that you would ask if I’d showed it to Alethea and then also ask me if I still have it. You think she took it?”
“Yes, I do.”
Dion’s gaze turned inward. “If she had a duplicate of the case in her possession, she must have come here specifically to steal mine,” he said, though he appeared to be talking to himself. “But how could she have known about the incorporeal or what the case looked like? I’ve never taken her through the museum before.”
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