Empire of Sin: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

My little butterfly.

That’s what he just called me, right?

My chest tightens and my eyes grow in size, desperate to make him out. In the darkness, I can’t see him, but the sharp lines of his face are visible and so is the glint in his intense eyes.

I’m trapped beneath the hardness of his body and the sheer size of him. I’m crushed and can’t breathe. And that cologne I searched for at the department stores? It’s suffocating me now, robbing my thought process and stopping me from thinking beyond this moment.

“You…you have my butterfly?”

“Why would you think that?”

“You just called me a little butterfly.”

“Could have done that for any reason.”

“But it was specific enough.”

“Hmm. What are you going to do to find out whether I have it or not?” His voice is deep, dark velvet that’s wrapping itself around my neck.

“I…”

My words trail off when his hand that’s been on my thigh glides to the inner side of it.

I clench my legs together tightly, even though it tingles, even though every illogical thought in my head is urging me to let go.

I can’t.

Not when I can sense ripples of darkness emanating from him. The same darkness I fought tooth and nail to leave behind.

I think I’ve always sensed it on him, even during that night in Jersey, but back then, it was fine because it was a one-time thing and I foolishly thought I wouldn’t see him again.

I foolishly thought I would just keep him in my memories and that’s it.

But he’s right here, and he’s coming after me and that’s not good.

It’s downright frightening for Babushka’s and my destiny.

His fingers hover at the apex of my thighs and even though he’s not forcing entry, he’s lingering there, biding his time.

“What’s going on?” There’s slight amusement in his tone, bordering on sadism. “Feeling shy all of a sudden?”

“That’s not…oh…” My words end in a moan because he’s pressing a finger against my clit now, and although it’s through my pants and underwear, I can feel the throbbing of my veins in my core.

“You shouldn’t be.” He’s speaking against my ear, his voice hotter and sexier in the low range.

For a second, I’m so focused on that, on his voice and range, that I momentarily forget what’s at stake here. My brain has tuned out all environmental elements so all I can feel is his cut body that has a warrior tattoo hidden beneath the prim and proper suit.

A lot of muscles, too, that I saw that day and currently feel against the softness of my belly and breasts.

Everything about me is so soft while he’s so hard and big that he makes me feel small. So small and breakable, but instead of becoming apprehensive, my skin catches fire and a strange type of arousal spreads inside me.

That’s wrong, though, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to be turned on by our size difference. If anything, I should be wary of it, should think of what’s at stake.

Like my laptop.

Knox must’ve gotten this close to aim for my laptop that I’m holding with both hands and keeping it out of reach above my head.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he flicks his tongue on the shell of my ear and I can’t help the zaps of pleasure that burst in waves across my sensitive flesh. When his deep whisper follows, I’m on the verge of something so harsh, it steals my breath.

“You shouldn’t be shy. After all…” He digs his fingers in my pussy and I bite my tongue to suppress a moan. “I made this cunt bleed for the first time.”

Shit.

Why does he make the act of taking my virginity sound so hot? It shouldn’t, not when I always considered it a burden that could be used to marry me off to the first suitable man my family found for me. Not when all I cared about was getting rid of it. But hearing him say those words makes everything sound more twisted, perverted, and completely deviant.

“Open.” The firm, non-negotiable order sends a blast of sparks inside me.

He doesn’t need to use his fingers to force my legs apart, because they fall open on their own. My mind is conditioned to all the delicious authoritativeness that I felt that night, to the surrender I experienced for the first time in my life.

And it’s not the forced type where I had no choice, because I did, I had the option to walk away, but I chose not to.

I chose to stay.

Because for the first time, I wasn’t the daughter of a dangerous family or the fake Jane. It was just me.

As if he’s thinking the same, Knox reaches for my glasses. I want to stop him, but I can’t let go of the laptop, and just like that, he removes them. I don’t think he’s able to see my eyes in the darkness, and if he does, he’ll only look into the contacts. However, when he does look at me, it feels different, like we’re back at that moment.

Where we were anonymous.

“Open wider,” he commands, and this time, I don’t have to part my legs much since his hand is already on the zipper of my pants. He easily pulls them down, then slides his fingers into my panties.

It’s a jolt, a shock reaction that causes my back to arch off the floor and my hands to become sweaty on the laptop.

This isn’t the first time he’s touched me this intimately, but it feels like it is.

“Hmm. Someone got turned on by the wrestling” It’s that sadism again, but it’s mixed with a foggy type of lust.

Or maybe that’s me.

He rubs the length of his massive erection on my stomach and I go still, my breathing shattering. “Your little wiggling got me rock-fucking-hard, beautiful. You will take care of that, won’t you?”

I don’t understand what he’s talking about, partly because his fingers continue rubbing my soaking folds, and partly because his erection is growing by the second.

The sound of his zipper echoes in the air and I hold my breath, even though I’m overwhelmed by all types of sensations. Even though my heart is about to jump out to where his fingers are on my pussy.

The way he touches me is slow and firm, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing and where he’s taking this. And I’m helpless in front of that, completely and utterly caught in a trap I can’t escape.

Then something happens.

His erection that I was feeling on my stomach only a few seconds ago replaces his fingers, rubbing against my panties-covered pussy.

The sparks of pleasure turn into full-blown bursts, but that’s not all, because he’s thrusting against my opening while it’s still covered and for some reason, that feels perverted and causes more arousal to coat both of us.

“I want to fuck you,” he grunts as he thrusts, rubs, and slides his cock up and down my panties. “I want to yank down your fake identity’s clothes and pound into your tight cunt until you’re screaming.”

Do it, I want to say.

Just do it already. I’ve been having withdrawals I didn’t think I would suffer from ever since the first time he touched me.

Ever since I found out what sex is all about.

And not sex with just anyone. Sex with him and his deliciously intense dominance. Ordinarily, I’d run away from it, but with Knox, I’m slamming straight into it.

Consciously and subconsciously.

“See how your cunt is swallowing me, my liar? You want my cock inside you, don’t you? You want me to fuck you hard and fast and with no restraint.”

I’m on the edge and I can’t look away from it. I’m right there and it’s not only because of the pace of his cock. It’s a combination of everything.

It’s due to his dirty talk and the deep tenor of his voice.

It’s due to his firm touch as he takes what he wants without an ounce of apology.

It’s due to the air that’s rippling and crowding with tension, oozing with sex and his intoxicating cologne.

But the most important element of all is him. The man who should’ve been a one-time thing but is turning into more.

And that’s strangely a turn-on. A button that I didn’t think I even had inside me.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Anastasia?”

The sound of my name should’ve quenched my desire, but it heightens it to a wildfire.

He knows me—well, not really—but he at least doesn’t think I’m the fake I worked so hard to build. And while usually that would be alarming, it isn’t right now.

Because it’s me.

“Do you?” he insists, and I’m so close to shouting it, to telling him to fuck me.

It’s only a one-time thing anyway.

That’s what I said the other time and I was obviously wrong.

But I nod anyway, it’s barely-there, but he notices it and picks up his pace. If it weren’t for his chest on mine, I would be jumping up from the heat of the sensations.

“I won’t, though, not until you tell me a truth about yourself.”

“Ugh…” The frustration that spills out of my throat is spontaneous and it makes him chuckle. But the sound is nowhere near light. It’s dark and somewhat disturbed.

“You thought I would let you play me, my little liar?”

“That’s not…I’m not…”

“You’re not what?”

“Playing you.” If anything, he’s the one doing that, toying with me until I’m about to burst.

“Then say something.”

“Anastasia is…my real name.”

It’s a little information, something that he was suspecting all along, but saying it aloud knocks a weight from my chest.

“I already knew that.”

“You…didn’t know for sure.”

“Hmm. I still can’t fuck you, though.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a condom on me. Usually, I don’t come to work with plans to fuck an employee.”

My nails dig into the laptop and I nearly scream from frustration. I bite my tongue instead, not wanting him to feel how much of an effect he has on me.

How much his words just filled me with inexplicable disappointment.

“But I’ll change that going forward.” He thrusts his dick against my opening a few times with increasing force. The tiny jerks are so pleasurable that I subconsciously release my tongue.

The orgasm hits me with a blinding force and then I’m falling, shattering, but there’s no landing in sight. Not even when I blink rapidly, trying to rein in my reaction. The force of the pleasure is stronger than my attempts at self-control, and I just scream.

He wraps a hand around my mouth. “Shh, people will hear.”

Shit.

I completely forgot about that, about the fact that we’re at the firm and that I’m protecting my plans in the laptop from him, even though my hands are still over my head.

As the wave slowly subsides, I lie there, catching my breath and my thoughts. I’m a bit sleepy, too.

It’s a problem if I constantly want to collapse after a powerful orgasm. Doesn’t that defy the whole purpose behind it?

In my haze, I make out Knox climbing up my body until his knees are on either side of my head. His dark shadow falls over me like doom, a thrilling one at that. One that I can’t stop staring at.

And then I taste something salty—his precum. In my daze, I didn’t notice that he was placing the tip of his dick on my mouth. “I need these lips on my cock.”

I open slowly, taking him inside. It’s different from the other time because now, I don’t even attempt to have any control. It’s all his for the taking.

He snakes a hand beneath my head, gripping me by the hair, and thrusts into my mouth with brute force. He hits the back of my throat and I choke on him, spluttering and gasping for air.

“Relax your throat,” he coaxes, almost half ordering, and then thrusts again. “That’s it, beautiful.”

My heartbeat thunders and my pussy clenches with a renewed need at his words. The fact that he’s still calling me beautiful, that he’s enjoying it.

I really do get off on his pleasure. On the fact that I’m the reason behind it, the reason he’s groaning deep in his throat.

And I want more of that.

So I relax my throat more, letting him fuck it hard and fast and without restraint. I moan around him, too, because I like this feeling of power.

I like how his hips jerk as if he’s unable to control the pleasure.

“Fuck, beautiful. I’m going to release my cum down that pretty throat.” And with one last grunt, he does as promised, shooting his release so deep that I barely get to taste him as I swallow.

When he pulls out, a trail of cum forms between my mouth and his dick, and I’m utterly fascinated by the view that I can’t look away from it.

From him.

He wipes the side of my mouth with his thumb and I can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “I’m going to have fun playing with you, my little liar.”