Page 131 of Captive Souls

I’d shown him that he needed armor around me now. It didn’t matter that I’d done it for the right reasons. With the best of intentions. The road to hell was paved with all those good intentions, after all. And that’s where I walked. For Knox. Into hell. I would’ve lived there, as long as it was with him. A fool’s hope, maybe.

Knox searched my face. Every pore. Every crevice. For what, I didn’t know. Maybe marks? Bruises?

The pressure at my neck remained, but now his thumb brushed against my artery with a gentleness that was a balm to my soul.

Knox exhaled roughly and slowly as he leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine.

My frayed nerves were unable to turn off entirely, but I slumped at the touch, my body reveling in the intimacy of his touch.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For saying those things. Those horrific, untrue things. I didn’t mean them. I know it’ll take more than that for you to forgive me, but…”

Knox brought his head back up so he could regard me with a crystal-clear gaze. No hurt swam in it. “I do not need to forgive you for what you said because I knew you didn’t mean them, right when you said them.”

His tone was harsh, still laced with anger but not for the betrayal of using his most intimate trauma against him.

“Piper, do you believe I think so little of you that I would let words, foolish words used as an attempt at arescueso much as scratch my feelings for you?” He continued rubbing my neck. “I do not devalue what we are so easily. I do not devalueyouso easily.”

“You’re not mad at me?” I asked, breathy at the gravity of his words.

“Oh, I’m fucking livid at you,” he gritted out, eyes glowing with that lividity. “Not for that, though. For putting yourself in the line of fire in the first place. For not trusting me to take care of you.” There it was. Hurt. He was hurt that I hadn’t trusted him.

“I trusted you to take care of you,” I quickly countered. “I didn’t want you to have to. I wanted to saveyou.”

Knox didn’t belittle me with an ‘oh, you’re so cute, you’re a woman who thinks you can save a man’ type stare. No, his brows bunched as he searched my eyes. “You save me, Piper.” He leaned forward so our lips almost brushed. “By breathing. Existing. You do not save me by giving me the abject terror of watching another man take you from me without the grace of watching that man take his last breath. You stole his death from me. Worse, you marked your soul when it is my job to keep it pristine.”

He lowered his hand to my chest, which was soaked and crusted with blood. I hadn’t exactly forgotten about it, but I hadn’t fathomed the sheer amount of blood I was coated in. I looked like Carrie at the prom.

Knox’s hand skimmed over my body, his face impenetrable. The power in which he was holding himself still made his entire form seem to vibrate. I could feel the furor.

“I should probably change, shower.” I was suddenly uncomfortable, shy under his intense gaze.

“You’re not leaving my sight,” he growled. “I can’t fucking breathe properly until my cock is inside you, Piper.” I gasped as his hand skimmed down my skirt, hiking it up.

“He had you for eight hours and thirty-six minutes.” He fisted my skirt, eyes locking with mine. “What did—”

“He didn’t rape me,” I interrupted him in order to banish the misery I saw chaining his soul.

He exhaled heavily but didn’t relax. “There are other things—”

Again, I cut him off, but I didn’t do it with words; I did it by taking hold of his wrist and pulling it upward to where my pussy was wet and waiting for him.

Knox let out a low snarl as he felt it.

“He didn’t do anything to me,” I told him. “I did it all. I killed him with my bare hands. He didn’t lay a finger in any places that belong to you.”

Maybe a little white lie since Stone technically had touched me, but dead men kept secrets.

Knox’s gaze zoomed in on me as he searched my pussy, finding the string of my tampon I’d hid with an expert hand. Inconvenient to be on my period when I was supposed to be taking down a criminal enterprise. But I’d managed it despite men’s favorite line, using our menstruation as the reason why we couldn’t be trusted with power.

I did it all while wearing white too.

Knox swiftly drew my tampon out, flinging it carelessly across the room. Though I was near mad with desire, I made a mental note to retrieve it after we were done. I didn’t have shame over Knox handling my used tampon, but that’s where my comfortability ended.

Knox rubbed my aching clit, and I let out a strangled moan as I realized just how keyed up I was. How desperate I was for his merciless touch.

“You killed him.” Knox continued rubbing.

“Yes,” I rasped.