Page 75 of Knuckles & Knives
“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, his voice strained. “Tell me what I’m doing to you.”
“You’re ruining me,” I gasp, meeting his thrusts. “Making me addicted to this, to you. I’ll never be able to work with you again without remembering this.”
His laugh is dark and possessive. “Good. I want you thinking about this every time you see me. Want you remembering how I made you scream my name.”
The combination of his words and his relentless rhythm is pushing me toward the edge. I can feel my orgasm building, tension coiling tighter in my core.
“I’m close,” I warn him.
“I know. I can feel you tightening around me.” His thumb presses harder against my clit. “Come for me, Raven. Let me watch that brilliant mind go completely blank.”
When I shatter, it’s with his name on my lips and my body arching off the desk. The orgasm crashes over me in waves, so intense I see stars.
Marcus follows moments later, his control finally snapping as he buries himself deep inside me with a growl of pure possession. “My brilliant, dangerous, perfect woman,” he says roughly.
“Yours,” I confirm breathlessly, still trembling from the aftershocks.
We end up tangled together on the couch afterward, my head on his chest, listening to his heart rate slowly return to normal. The screens around us continue their digital symphony, Richard Sterling’s destruction playing out in real-time while we recover from our own victory celebration.
“I love you too,” I whisper against his chest.
His arms tighten around me. “Phase three is complete,” Marcus observes, his voice still slightly rough. “Richard’s now declaring war on the Volkov family. They should be shooting at each other by sunrise.”
“And phase four?”
“Phase four is watching them destroy each other while we consolidate power and plan our next move.” His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. “But that’s tomorrow’s problem.”
I lift my head to look at him, this brilliant man who just handed me an enemy’s destruction wrapped in elegant code. “What’s tonight’s priority then?”
His smile is soft and predatory. “Tonight, I plan to show you exactly how many ways a strategic mind can be applied to more… intimate pursuits.”
“Is that a promise?”
“That’s a guarantee.” He shifts beneath me, his hands skimming down my sides with renewed interest. “And unlike Richard Sterling’s financial security, I always deliver on my guarantees.”
The screens around us continue their relentless display of digital warfare, but I’m no longer paying attention to Richard’s destruction. Right now, the only thing that matters is the brilliant, dangerous man holding me and the way his eyes darken with promise and possession.
As Marcus makes good on his guarantee, showing me exactly how creative a strategic mind can be, I can’t help but think that this might be the most dangerous victory we’ve ever claimed.
Because now I know what it feels like to have Marcus Quintana completely, utterly devoted to my pleasure. And that kind of power might be more intoxicating than any empire we could build.
The war isn’t over yet, but tonight, we’re winning in every way that matters.
CHAPTER 23
The war room at the Obsidian has never felt smaller than it does right now, with all four of my men gathered around the tactical display table, their combined presence filling the space with lethal energy. Dom stands with his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on the building schematics we’ve been studying for the past three hours. Kieran leans against the wall, his expensive suit somehow still immaculate despite the intensity of our planning session. Axel perches on the edge of the table, spinning a knife between his fingers with that restless energy that means he’s eager for action. Marcus sits in front of multiple laptops, his fingers flying across keyboards as he coordinates our digital warfare alongside the physical assault we’re planning.
At the center of it all, I stand tall. These four dangerous men are looking to me for direction, trusting me to coordinate the most ambitious operation any of us has ever attempted.
“Status report,” I say, my voice cutting through the focused silence.
“Sterling’s main compound is heavily fortified,” Dom reports, his gravelly voice matter of fact. “Twenty-four-hour security, rotating patrols, military-grade surveillance equipment. But they’re not expecting a coordinated assault from multiple angles.”
“Because they think we’re too busy fighting each other to work together,” Kieran adds with grim satisfaction. “Richard’s intelligence network is focused on traditional territorial disputes, not the kind of unified operation we’re planning.”
Axel’s knife stops spinning as he looks up with that wild grin that means he’s found something particularly interesting. “Plus, their security protocols are designed to repel single-organization attacks. They’ve never faced anything like what we’re bringing.”
“Which is?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
