Empire of Sin: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

I think there’s something wrong with me.

With him.

With us.

Otherwise, why the hell am I so hot and bothered like never before?

And it didn’t start just now, no. This overstimulation started when he pinned me against the wall, grabbed me by the throat, and licked away my tears. He darted his tongue out and licked them all away. I should’ve been repulsed, should’ve flinched away or attempted to stop him.

But something much worse happened.

I liked it.

Every lash of his tongue was as if he was lapping at my pussy, parting my legs to get more access.

And when he thrust his tongue inside my mouth, I could almost feel his cock driving deep into my channel.

I still feel it now, the uncontrollable need, and I’m not sure if it’s his or mine.

Or maybe it’s a combination of both.

His larger body pins me against the wall and I can’t breathe, not because he’s crushing me, but because of everything else.

Like his breath on the side of my face and the sharp tingles it provokes.

Or the scent of his cologne that envelops me whole as he did in front of Kirill and Aleksander.

But most of all, it’s his warmth, the sense of safety I’ve never allowed myself to feel, not even with my father.

Because he didn’t say that, my father, he never said he’d protect me. That’s why I left, that’s why I wore contact lenses and glasses and changed my hair color.

That’s why I stole from him.

But Knox said it in front of those two dangerous men. He didn’t care that they were dangerous or that they could snap his neck with a motion from Kirill’s hand.

That’s exactly what would’ve happened if there weren’t people around. Kirill would’ve given Aleksander a sign and his guard would’ve stabbed Knox to death, then buried him on some construction site.

But Knox didn’t give a fuck about any of that.

He said he’d protect me.

And maybe that’s why I’m melting against the wall. I’m breathing so harshly, so gutturally, I think I’m hyperventilating.

However, Knox’s hold on my neck keeps me anchored in the moment and to him. And even though I have no clue where he’s taking this, a part of me, the rebellious spiky part that decided to steal and leave, doesn’t care.

Knox doesn’t care either, because his cock is nuzzling against my ass cheeks, hard and thick and hot. So hot that I catch fire.

All the tension I’ve been feeling since that day he walked out of the supply room returns with a vengeance. The onslaught of emotions wrap around my throat, matching his grip. He has his index finger against my jaw, forbidding me from attempting to move.

But that’s not the only thing wrapped around me. His other hand loops around my waist and reaches for the zipper of my pants, undoing it, then pulling the cloth down to beneath my ass.

A gust of air hits my skin and my eyes widen. “Knox…?”

“Shh. I told you to stay quiet.”

“Oh my God, you can’t be serious?”

“I perfectly am. What did you think “I’ll fuck you” means, my little liar?”

That’s the thing, I didn’t think. Or maybe I thought he was joking, but that’s obviously not the case.

“Here?” I murmur, my voice shaking, but it’s not out of trepidation.

“Here.” It’s one word, one single word, but he whispers it in that deep, sensual voice of his and it feels like a thrust into my starving core.

“But…but we’re in public.”

“So?”

“Anyone can see.”

“And?”

“That’s not right.”

“All the best things aren’t, beautiful.”

I can’t think of a reply, because he’s cupping me through my panties and their soaked with so much arousal, it’s strange and exciting at the same time.

“Hmm. You’re wet at the thought of being fucked in public.”

“No…”

“No? Your cunt that’s dripping due to the promise alone would argue otherwise. Do you like the thought of someone showing up and watching?”

“I don’t…”

“Good. Do you know why?” He pulls down my panties, so that they join my pants, and exposes my pussy; however, I still think he’ll back down and end the madness.

But I should’ve known better.

Knox and madness go hand in hand.

Sometimes, he is the madness.

He’s that piece of insanity that makes the most sense.

The foolishness in the midst of logic.

That’s how it feels now. So right and wrong at the same time.

The only right thing in the wrong.

The sound of his own zipper echoes in the air in the small nook behind the restaurant where anyone could pass by. Where any staff member could step out the door to throw something away or take a smoke break.

And I think he’s right. The possibility alone makes me wetter, stickier, messier.

He’s the reason why I’m this way. I was always a goody two shoes. A wallflower. Boring and mild.

Hell, I thought I would only like sex with the lights off and on scheduled days.

And no, those fantasies I had about being held down and fucked don’t count.

But he proved that they do. Very much so.

Ever since that first time, he’s provoked that part of me I reserved for nightmares. He’s taught me that I want more than mild and boring. That sex without lights and on Saturdays isn’t enough.

That sex isn’t enough.

I prefer fucking. Primal, rough, and out of control.

I prefer relinquishing all control and not thinking, even though we’re in public.

Even though this isn’t how my second time is supposed to be.

His lips meet my ear as he whispers, “I won’t let them see. They can wish, they can imagine, but they’ll never have you like I do, beautiful. They won’t even dream about seeing this pussy, let alone fucking it.”

And with that, he thrusts inside me from behind. The motion is so deep and raw that I get on my tiptoes.

Holy shit.

Is it possible to come from penetration alone? Because I think I’m there. The orgasm isn’t as hard as the other time, but it’s shaking me, it’s gripping and dragging and filling me to the brim.

“You like this, don’t you, my little liar?” He’s still whispering in my ear, one hand on my hip and the other holding me by the throat. “You like the threat of being found out, of being seen while surrendering to the most carnal part of you.”

“Oh…” I trail off because he’s pounding into me now, hard and fast and unrestrained. I’m bumping against the wall, my legs shaking and my heart about to spill to the ground.

My nails scratch on the wall for balance, but it’s impossible with his pace. His mad, harsh, and savage pace that’s building a hurricane inside me.

“Say you like it, Anastasia.” He slows to low, deep thrusts that make my toes curl.

“Like w-what?”

“The depravity of it all, the promise of the unknown. The fact that someone can walk up now.” Thrust. “Or now.”

He drives in again, deeper this time, and I moan, the vibration bouncing from my throat and against his fingers.

“I do…” I whimper.

“You do, don’t you? You like being fucked rough and fast in a place where people can find us…where they can see who you belong to…”

“Oh, God…” I’m coming again and it’s stronger this time, more consuming, and without restraint.

I can feel myself strangling his cock, clenching around him, and pulling him deeper with the force of my orgasm.

“So fucking tight, my Anastasia,” he grunts near my ear.

As if possible, my release gains more power, stretching and pulling at a place inside me I didn’t think existed.

But that doesn’t make Knox stop.

If anything, he’s pounding into me more ruthlessly, so much that I’m bouncing off the wall. My nipples peak and pucker against my bra and the friction on the solid surface makes them ache so much, it’s almost unbearable.

Everything is so sensitive, sore, and so utterly pleased. Like that first time, but multiplied by ten.

“Fuck,” I hear him groan at my ear. “Fuck how tight and beautiful and bloody addictive you are. Fuck!”

And then his chest turns rigid at my back, and then he’s spilling inside me. Hot spurts of his cum warming my pussy.

Holy shit.

“You…you…” I pant. “You didn’t use a condom?”

The question is stupid because I can feel him bare inside me, I can feel the hot spurt of his cum in me.

There’s a long pause. One so silent that I fidget and slowly stare back at him, making that eye contact that I hate so much.

Knox is standing there, covering my back, his cock still inside me and his hands on my hip and throat, and he looks so savage.

So raw.

So dark, even.

It’s not like that first time, though I don’t really remember it since I passed out right afterward.

I would’ve done the same just now if it weren’t for being faced with the reality that he didn’t use a condom.

That he just came inside me.

I think I’m at the point of hyperventilating, because my breathing is harsh and uneven and I think I’m going to faint.

“I’m clean,” he says in a low voice.

“I am, too, but that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” He pauses, probably noticing how I’m breathing so heavily and reaching the point of collapsing. “You’re on birth control, right?”

I gulp. Once, twice.

His hold tightens on my throat. “Bloody hell. You are, right?”

“No.” The word is so quiet, so damn inaudible that I’m surprised he even hears it.

“Fuck.” He pulls out of my aching pussy and releases me.

I stand there, lamely getting my clothes together and trying to resist the remnants of a panic attack that’s trying to grab hold of me.

Knox’s movements are jerkier than mine—violent, even—as he zips his pants and runs a hand through his glorious hair. “Why aren’t you on birth control? Who the fuck is not on birth control these days?”

“Me.” I get in his face and snatch my glasses that he placed in his pocket, then put them on. “And why are you angry at me? You’re the one who didn’t use a condom.”

“I don’t exactly walk around with them in the street.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have fucked me in the street then.”

He stares down at me, his golden eyes catching a glimpse of the sun and shining just as bright.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters under his breath. “Just take the morning-after pill.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. I was going to do it anyway.”

“Fantastic.”

“Great.”

“Perfect.”

“Awesome.” I tip my chin at him, then we both stare away at the same time, and I mutter, “Hmph, as if I would ever want something else with you.”

He’s in my face in a second. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Next time, either say what you’re thinking or don’t say it at all.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

He smiles, and it’s beautiful and a little sadistic, and I can’t help feeling like I’m caught right in the middle of it.

“Oh, there fucking will be. Especially now that you’re joining my team.”