2-12
INDIE
Knox took me to dinner. He tore into a steak as I fought the urge to vomit.
After tonight’s horror show, I had zero appetite. As I sat in the private dining room, surrounded by white linen and dark red walls, I thought of the corpse. I pictured its cut-up state sitting in the trunk of the vehicle of whoever had helped Knox. The tearing of his limbs echoed in my head as Knox sawed off a piece of ribeye.
I watched him with a morbid fascination.
Dismembering a man couldn’t have been easy…and yet he had done it without complaint. That didn’t mean much, though. Guarded people often had the most sensitive hearts.
How was he holding up?
I tried to gauge his mood, but Knox wasn’t the most animated guy. At first glance, he seemed fine, but his muted body language revealed a stony indifference. He was like a hunter digging into his kill.
“Knox, are you okay?”
I reached beside the table and grasped his wrist.
Knox froze, his knife hovering over the plate. A play of emotions flickered on his face in minute details-a raised brow, a parting of his lips, his cold eyes lifting to meet mine.
“Of course I am.”
“It’s all right if you’re not.”
As I stroked his hand, his gaze smoldered. An invitation glowed in those blue depths.
“Something tells me you’ll make it all better.” His mouth curled as he cut off another piece of steak. “You should eat.”
“Between the murder and the dismemberment, I lost my appetite.”
He took a quick glance around. “Want to say that a little louder?”
I bit back a retort.
Talking to Knox accomplished nothing. The man didn’t do feelings, certainly not over dinner. Bringing me here was foreplay, setting the stage for whatever he planned for me. Obviously, he meant for me to indulge in this fantasy.
My attention dipped to my risotto, the only vegetarian option on the menu. I grabbed my fork. It trembled as I speared a mound of rice and popped it in my mouth. I swallowed without tasting it, and Knox resumed eating.
The waiter approached, clutching a pepper shaker to his chest. He seemed to recognize Knox and was intimidated by him, because he’d stammered his way through the specials, and now he couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Ma’am?”
I nodded, and then guilt socked me in the stomach.
Was I going to season my food like everything was fine?
The waiter held it out, shaking. He twisted the end and black sprinkled the tablecloth. He did it again, this time showering the edge of my plate. Scowling, Knox reached out and yanked it from his grasp. He gave it a few turns and shoved it back into the waiter’s grip, who shot from the table.
Knox paid him no mind. His watchful glare seemed to judge me as I pushed grains of rice around.
“Is the meal not to your liking?”
“I’m sure it’s great.”
Knox’s brows furrowed as he chewed a roasted carrot. His hand slid to my lap and curled over my thigh. The audacity of that bold move seared my skin.
“We’re not here for dinner and drinks. It’s to keep up appearances.” Knox gently stroked my leg, kicking swells of warmth inside me. “We’re just a couple out on a date night, aren’t we?”
I nodded, distracted by his roaming touch and the heat spinning in my belly.
He released me and picked up his knife. “Want some steak?”
“No, thanks. I’ll get sick.”
“Eat. For me.”
My stomach churned as I spooned the risotto, shoving it between my lips. I ate. It was something to do. Focusing on it was better than swimming in my toxic thoughts.
“Where did Tony bury the body?”
“On a hill, overlooking a meadow,” Knox murmured, a playful smile curving his mouth. “What do you care?”
My eyes burned.
“Do you think he suffered?”
“I hope so.” Knox dipped a chunk of meat in juice and swirled it around the plate. “But I doubt it. It’s possible you nicked his lung and he suffocated, but all signs point to extreme blood loss as cause of death.”
I twisted the tablecloth, trying to shut out his words.
You defended yourself. It’s all right.
“How’s everything tasting?” The nervous waiter reappeared and refilled our waters, adding a splash to my full glass. “Would you like more wine, or another cocktail?”
“Bring me another, and she’d like a cocktail as well.” Knox pushed the menu into my hands.
I could drown myself in liquor. The Chardonnay I’d ordered wasn’t strong enough. Which type of booze worked best to calm frazzled nerves from killing a man?
“Gin and creme de violette,” barked Knox when I didn’t speak. “She’ll have the Saint Alice.”
“Excellent choice, sir.”
I sank into a dull silence as the waiter disappeared. I had no measure of time as I sat there, replaying the knife going into the intruder’s chest, over and over.
The waiter slid a coupe glass in front of me. Knox waved him off with an impatient hand as I gripped the glass and sipped the lavender cocktail. Warmth filled my empty stomach, but it was artificial. In a few hours it would leave me, and then I’d have nothing to comfort me from this hellish disaster.
Knox sure as hell wasn’t the warm, cuddly type.
“I took care of your problem. Now you owe me,” he said, his voice so deep and intimate that all other sounds vanished. “So here’s the deal. You’re moving in with me. Tonight, we’ll go home and take it easy. Tomorrow, you’ll follow your routine, but you’ll work from home. If anybody asks, we had dinner and wild sex.”
My breathing hitched.
“Okay. I’ll do that.”
“I expect obedience and submission, starting from the moment you wake to the second your head hits the pillow after I’m done fucking you.”
“Obedience and submission?”
“Yes. I like my women subservient.”
His firm eye contact teased heat around my nipples like a lapping tongue.
“That’s not a word I’d use to describe me,” I said tightly, fisting my dress. “I’ve never been good at following orders.”
“Your complete submission is non-negotiable.”
That dark threat pulsed between our bodies, an unspoken promise blazing from his eyes that conjured an image of him shoving me to the ground. Fitting his cock to my mouth. Rutting me.NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.
What if I liked it?
A mild pain ached in my breast as I studied Knox’s clasped hands. What if they grabbed my wrists as he fucked me? Would I scream for him to stop, or would I widen my legs when he slid up behind me?
And if I took pleasure from the tyrant, what did that say about me?
“Knox, I’m not a submissive.”
“You’ll learn, Indie. It’ll be a bumpy few weeks, but you’ll take to this lifestyle.”
“But we’re so different.”
“Differences can be solved in bed.” A slow smile built on his face as he reclaimed my thigh. “Give it time.”
I could take months. I’d never get used to the way he touched me. He was passionate, but not warm. His burning palm cradled my leg, sliding upward. He stroked me in leisurely circles. I sucked in a ragged breath as the movement shot heat into my pussy.
“Knox,” I whispered with desperate firmness. “I’m an emotional wreck.”
He hesitated, studying me like an owner inspecting his new racehorse. “I’m trying to help you.”
“By groping me under the table?”
“Sex makes me feel better.”
Then it dawned on me. This was his go-to for comfort. Why couldn’t he just hold me like a normal person? What had made him so dead that he could carve up someone’s body, eat a steak in the same evening, and think nothing of it?
“Let me help you. The sooner we address this, the sooner you can move on.” His hand met my upper thigh in a searing clasp.
“There’s no healing from this.”
“Not with that attitude.”
“How the hell would you know?”
“You think because of how I act, I don’t understand suffering?” His hand slipped out from under my dress and took my hand, sliding it under his shirt. He flattened it on what felt like dozens of horizontal, slightly raised marks. “I spent my childhood trying to get away from it.”
Trembling from his glare, I focused on the scars under my hand. So many of them marred the wall of mouthwatering muscle. Had he inflicted this on himself?
Horror bottomed out my stomach. “This is how you deal with it?”
His eyes blazed. “It’s in the past.”
“Then…what changed?”
“Control. Nobody will ever make me vulnerable again.”
Pain flickered across his stony features, and for a moment, the same agony squeezed deep in my heart. I grieved the loss of innocence. My mind exploded with questions, but Knox’s ice-cold mask slammed back into place.
“Now. Where were we?”
His hand went back under my dress. A hot ache grew in my throat as his wandering fingers traced a burning path to my panties. I bit my lip against the shiver of wanting.
I couldn’t make sense of my pounding heartbeat-was it fear or desire?
“Widen your legs.”
“Knox, we can’t,” I pleaded with him as I did as I was told. “Our waiter can walk in at any moment and see us. They’ll throw us out.”
He wedged my thighs apart and touched my clit. Slowly, he made circles. The pad of his finger pulled on my skin as another flicked my aching nub. Hard.
A spasm jolted up my leg.
Jesus Christ.
I sank my nails into his muscled arm. He thumbed me again, sliding into my wet heat, revealing the futility of my resistance. A delicious shudder heated my pussy. The more he fingered me, the more it pulsated.
“Please, Knox.”
Knox paid no attention to my pleas as he slipped in the river of my arousal. A pink flush rose to his cheeks. His breathing roughened.
I panted as he curled into my body.
“You’re so innocent,” he murmured as I struggled not to moan. “So beautiful. And now that I have carte blanche over your life, I will corrupt you.”
My eyelids fluttered as he pushed inside me. Every inch of him was solid muscle, including his fingers. So much wider than I expected.
Oblivious to my blushing face, our waiter returned and refilled my water glass. “Can I get you another cocktail?”
I made an indistinct sound.
“Indie,” Knox chastised, a smirk edging into his words. “The waiter asked you a question.”
“N-no thanks.”
Knox pulsed in as I blurted my response. He thrust, spreading wetness over my swollen clit. He might’ve been conducting a business meeting for the coolness in his tone when he addressed the waiter.
“We’ll just have the bill, thank you.”
“Of course.”
The young man pulled out an electronic device. Knox withdrew from me and grabbed his credit card from his wallet. He paid for the meal as his fingers slammed home, rewarding me with sweet relief.
A spasm gripped my spine, and my thighs clenched his hand. I seized his arm, and the feeling of muscles under my palm intensified the ecstasy. Then he flicked my clit. A jolt traveled to my nipples, peaking them.
This was so wrong.
And yet I fantasized about licking his chiseled jaw and kissing the hollow under his ear. I ached to erase all distance between us. I brushed his leg with my hand. So much muscle under those jeans. All of him was hard and firm. I squeezed him as I wandered up, bumping into a rigid column. My thumb traced the head. I touched the impressive shaft, gaping at him.
“At least there’s one thing you can’t control. Luckily, I don’t have that problem with men.”
Knox didn’t like that. He tensed. Then he moved my hand off him and shot me a cold look.
“Other men. Not only will you open your legs for me, you’ll beg for the privilege.”
“Right.”
His eyes sparkled with the love of a challenge. He scooped my legs and dragged me over the chair. My ass hit his lap with a solid thump. The dress crept up my thighs as he wrapped my abdomen and tugged.
Just like that, I sat in the haven of his embrace. His breath warmed my cheek. My body melted into his, the closeness taking me off guard. My emotions whirled as he fed a raw ache crying for more. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the gentleness shattering my defenses.
I hugged the bit of him I could reach, the arm encircling my waist, but Knox was either unaware or didn’t care. His palm heated my inner thigh. Then he was pushing inside me with two thick fingers.
I gasped in sweet agony.
“I’m going to show you what belonging to me means.”
His wicked words showered my cheeks with sparks, the thrill explosive. I needed more. Knox obliged, pressing his mouth into the crook of my neck. He sucked me. I shivered. This erotic kiss belonged in the bedroom, but I welcomed the intimacy. My head turned. I sought his lips, pulse hammering.
Knox glared as he fucked me. I sank into the rapture, panting. The urge to chase his thrusting was overwhelming. Blocking him out was impossible. I was too wet. Too wanting. My back arched toward him. I writhed, powerless to stop him. My hand found his. I guided his movements, slamming him against my clit.
No.
I gnawed my lip to kill my moan. My breath released in long, surrendering moans. I shuddered. Then he shoved inside me. Pleasure radiated from my core and deep inside, I broke. My being flooded with fire. I clutched his fingers as I came hard. My thighs twitched, and then I hurtled into a pool of ecstasy.
I sagged into his chest as bliss clashed with shame. He’d freed me in a burst of sensation, but my body had betrayed me. The orgasm was a raw act of possession. I’d just wanted to be comforted.
My eyes burned as he pulled out. Even if my face wasn’t blushing, my uneven breaths gave me away.
He wiped himself on the napkin and tossed it over the table.
“Good girl.” He cupped my burning cheek, his damp fingers tingling my skin. “Very good girl.”
“That was so wrong.”
He traced the soft lines of my curves, his touch upsetting my balance. “You knew I’d ask for the moon and said yes.”
“There are limits.”
“And I look forward to exploring them with you.”
By the time he was through with me, would I have any left?