Page 73 of Captive Souls
But that had never satisfied me. Deep down, I hungered for something darker, more forbidden. But I’d swallowed those needs because of my past, because of my complicated relationship with violent men.
Indecision was clear in Knox’s eyes, as if he were thinking that very thought. His hesitation stung my skin as if he’d slapped me.
“I’m not a victim,” I snarled at him. “Don’t treat me like one.”
That was enough to jerk him out of his stupor. He yanked me forward again, only kissing this time, no biting. But that didn’t make it any less violent. There was no room to catalogue the kiss as anything but carnal. There was nothing romantic, soft about it. Not that I’d expected that from Knox.
I wanted real. Wanted to feel the utter brutality, the uncontrollable need he had for me.
His hands fisted my hair, wrenching on it to expose my neck before his teeth grazed my carotid artery. I shuddered at my vulnerable position. Exposing my neck to a predator was submission, wasn’t it? Trust?
Not that he gave me a choice.
He just took.
And that’s what I wanted.
His lips replaced his teeth along my pulse.
And then he was stepping back, only slightly. Just enough to send a groan of frustration through me.
His eyes glowed with feral need, but his face was an emotionless mask.
“Take off your clothes,” he said impassively. The words hit me in the throat.
His order was sharp. No warmth or adornment from him.
But I reveled in the command, in knowing that Knox was going to take the helm, and I could let go of coherent thought and just obey.
Which is what I did.
With shaking hands, I tore off my T-shirt.
“Slower.” The word cut through the air.
With great pains, I did as he said, slowing my movements as I unbuttoned my jeans then stepped out of them, all under the power of his intense eyes.
He didn’t even bat a lash.
Nor did he speak.
It should’ve been awkward. Slowly undressing in front of a man with nothing but my roaring heart and rapid breaths filling up the silence. No music. No city sounds, no TV on in the background.
But it wasn’t. It only served to make the moment more charged. It could’ve made me feel like some kind of object, bowing to the whims of a man, yet it didn’t. I felt powerful, with more agency than I’d ever had in my life.
By the time I was standing in my bra and panties, I was trembling with need. The bra and panties themselves were nothing special, just simple cotton. But Knox’s gaze on the fabric made me feel as if I were wearing the finest silks and laces.
With a long exhale, I reached back to unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then I hooked my panties with my thumbs, bringing them down and stepping out of them.
I’d barely done that before he was on me, his hand tagging my neck and tugging me forward so my lips crashed against his once more. His hands trailed down my back, clenching my bare ass, pressing my naked body into his clothed one.
Once again, just as I was losing myself in the world-breaking, chaotic passion of the kiss, Knox detached himself.
“Can I just…” He looked violent. Crazed. Half mad with desire. But also something else, something conveyed by the softness of his tone. He looked almost … vulnerable.
It hit me in a place that wasn’t sexual. In my heart, a place I hadn’t thought Knox was able to touch.
“Can you what?” I probed. If he was asking for permission, then surely it must be some dirty, sordid thing that he needed my okay for. And I was ready to say yes to anything at that point.