Captured Love (The Crestwood University #3)

2. Selene

2

SELENE

“ N ice place you have here.” I almost slap myself on the forehead as a reflex. Nice place you have here? Really, Selene?

“Come on. It’s a couple steps above a shithole, but I can’t complain,” Knox throws out there.

I snort before I can control myself. I take a moment to look around the living room and notice that it’s surprisingly neat for a common area of a house with guys living in it.

Knox breaks my momentary trance. “The guys aren't here right now, so it's just us.”

Just us. The words hang in the air like a low-hanging cloud. This is what I’d been hoping for even though Knox is definitely red flag central. Between the warnings I’ve already received about him and the interactions we’ve had with one another so far, I’m mentally preparing for how much of a mistake this will end up being.

“That's...convenient,” I say, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

He starts up the stairs and I follow, my eyes inadvertently tracing the muscles in his back as they flex with each step. We reach the landing and he pauses, turning to look over his shoulder at me.

The tension that has been brewing between us reaches a new high. I swear I stop breathing as I wait to see what he’s going to do next.

“You sure you want to do this?” His voice is low and I can sense the seriousness in his words.

No. Yes.

I'm not sure.

A thousand answers swirl around in my head, each one contradicting the last. The rational part of me is screaming to run, to get out before I dive into something I can't easily climb back out of. The other part—the larger part, the part that has a mind of its own when it comes to Knox—is already imagining what his sheets will feel like against my skin.

Finally I’m able to voice my opinion. “Yes, I do want this.”

“Why? Why did you come here? I’m sure you’ve been warned about me.”

His smugness catches me off guard. The fact that I wasn’t expecting him to say those words has to be all over my face because I feel my eyes widen. But somehow, I manage to say, “I'm here because...”

Because I can't stop thinking about you.

Because bad decisions make good stories.

Because I'm lonely and you're here and maybe we can fill some void for each other.

“...I need this. Whatever this is,” I finish lamely.

Silence fills the space between us. Knox's eyes search mine, and for a moment I think he might tell me to leave, that it's better if we don't start something we can't finish. But then he nods, and the tension breaks just enough for me to take a breath.

I follow him as we walk down the hall. He pushes his door open and stands aside, allowing me to enter first. His room is exactly what I imagined: sparse but functional, with a bed that looks like it was made by someone who rushed to get it done, an old desk cluttered with binders and textbooks, and several hockey posters taped to the wall.

I walk to the center of the room and turn to face him. He closes the door softly behind him and leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest. The posture looks casual, but there's a guardedness in his eyes that makes me think he's bracing for something.

Great… because I feel the same way.

I take a step toward him, then hesitate. The knot in my stomach tightens as I try to read his expression. This is it. It feels like the point of no return. Once we cross this line, there's no going back to the safe distance we've maintained since we met.

“We don’t have to rush,” he says, uncrossing his arms and taking a step toward me.

I nod quickly. “I know.”

Knox reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch softer than I expected. My skin tingles where his fingers make contact, and I feel a warmth start to spread through me. He’s so close now that I can see the different shades of brown in his eyes.

“Why do you make me feel so nervous?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He raises an eyebrow. “Nervous? You always seem pretty confident to me.”

So my act has been working. However, I decide to flip the script back on him because I hadn’t planned on admitting this anyway. “This doesn’t make you feel similarly?”

Knox takes a deep breath, and for a moment I think he's going to deny it in an effort to play it cool. Dread rises up my spine as I wait for his next move.

“Maybe,” he admits softly.

That confession swirls around us, making everything feel more real, more dangerous. This is not what I expected. I thought it would be simple: come here, fuck, and leave. But now I'm starting to see that this might not be that simple.

He steps back and runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in that way that makes him look even more attractive, if that’s possible.

“Look,” he starts, “I don't want to fuck this up before it even starts. We can take our time.”

Take our time? Does he mean he wants something longer than just tonight? The thought both excites and terrifies me. Not to mention, why did that pop into my head?

In an effort to stop overanalyzing, my gaze drifts back to his. I can see in his eyes the moment the dam breaks. He closes the gap between us within a second and his hands land on my cheeks, pulling me toward him.

Our lips meet and it's like nothing else matters. The kiss is hungry, desperate, as if we're both trying to consume the other in one breath. My hands find his waist and I pull him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me. His body is strong and hard, just like I imagined.

He breaks the kiss first, but keeps his forehead pressed against mine. We're both breathing heavily, our chests rising and falling in unison.

“Selene,” he says as he takes in a rugged breath. “If you change your mind at any point, just tell me.”

I don't trust myself to speak, so I nod. He captures my lips again, this time slower, more deliberately. It's as if he's memorizing every detail about them. A shiver runs through me, and I clutch at his shirt, bunching the fabric in my fists.

Knox's hands slide down my neck, my shoulders, then trace the outline of my waist. He finds the hem of my shirt and pauses, as if asking for permission. I lift my arms, and he pulls it over my head in one fluid motion. The cool air in his room hits my skin and I stop myself from shaking like a leaf. I already feel as if I’ve bared my soul to him and we are just getting started. He takes a small step back to give himself room to pull down my leggings, and soon I’m pushing them down my legs and stepping out of them.

The urge to cover my body is real. Although I still have my underwear on, I feel completely exposed. It’s as if he can see every curve, every bit of cellulite that I want to wish away.

Knox's eyes trail over my body, taking in every inch with a slowness that makes my skin prickle. He doesn't move, doesn't reach for me. He lets out a shaky breath before he says, “Holy fuck. You’re so beautiful.”

I freeze in place at his words. It’s the last thing I think that Mr. Bad Boy Knox Sanchez would utter, but since I decided to take him up on his offer to ‘show me a good time’ I feel as if I've been having an out of body experience.

None of this feels real—the way he's touching me, the way he's looking at me. This was supposed to be a simple fling, an easy distraction from everything else in my life. But now there's a dangerous tenderness in the way he’s handling me, like I’m something that could easily break.

Hell, maybe that’s true, but that’s not what I need to be focusing on right now.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” I whisper, more to myself.

“I never do,” he replies, his eyes searching mine.

Before I can process his words, he pulls me closer to him and bends down to kiss my neck. I swear a jolt of electricity flies through my body. My hands tangle in his hair as he works his way down to my collarbone. Every touch feels like it's setting me on fire. He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra with a skill that speaks volumes about his experience. It slides off my shoulders and he catches it before letting it drop to the floor gently.

I expect him to dive in, to take what he wants like the cocky bad boy he's supposed to be. But instead, he just looks at me, taking in every detail with an intensity that makes me squirm. I was already feeling self-conscious about my curves before I came here, but now I swear it’s increased tenfold.

My thoughts come to a screeching halt when he lifts me and carries me to the bed with an ease that makes my heart race even faster. Laying me down gently, he stands over me and removes his shirt. His torso is chiseled, each muscle defined like a work of art. He unbuckles his belt, and I prepare myself for what's coming next, but he pauses.

“Do you want this?” Knox’s voice is just above a whisper, and it almost sounds like he’s barely controlling himself.

He’s giving me another out. I could still leave and save myself from whatever complicated mess this might turn into. But we both know I won’t.

“Yes,” I say, more sure now than just a few short minutes ago. “I definitely want this.”

He nods, as if he's just convinced himself of something, then kneels on the bed beside me. His hands are gentle as they run up my thighs, stopping just short of where my body wants him most. He leans down and kisses my stomach, my ribs, then moves to one breast, taking my nipple into his mouth. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, and he switches to the other with a deliberate tenderness that has my body moving involuntarily.

Just when I think I can't take any more of his teasing, his hand slides between my legs, over my panties. He applies the lightest pressure and it’s enough to make me gasp.

“You’re leaking through your panties already, picosita. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted me if you tried.”

I heard what he said, yet it was as if the words missed my brain completely. I’m not sure if he’s waiting for a response from me, but there was no way I was going to be able to respond. To say he’s left me speechless is an understatement.

His fingers trace lazy circles along the thin fabric of my panties. It’s not enough. My hips lift toward him, seeking more of his touch, but he holds back, making me whimper in frustration.

“Patience,” he says against my skin. “I’m taking my time and savoring this.”

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. This is supposed to be just physical, something simple and uncomplicated. Yet this feels like anything but.

“Knox,” I manage to breathe out, not even sure what I’m asking for. Relief? Reassurance? All I know is that I need him in a way that I don’t want to begin to do a deep dive into.

He looks up from my chest, his eyes dark with desire. “What is it?”

I bite my lip, hesitating. “Nothing. Just... don’t stop.”

A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face. “Wasn't planning on it.”

With the slowness of a snail, at least to me, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slides them down my legs. He pauses for a moment, just looking at me, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

Then, without warning, he lowers himself between my legs and kisses the inside of my thigh. My hands clutch the sheets as his lips move closer to where I’ve been dying for him to take me. When his tongue finally flicks against me, a cry bursts from my lips. He grips my hips to hold me in place as he begins to work me. Him taking his time was worth it.

It doesn't take long before I feel that familiar tension building, something I haven’t felt in a long time. My breathing becomes rough and ragged. My body is trying to keep up with the sensations he’s causing, but it’s no use. All I can do is hope that I can hold on just a little longer. His hands knead my thighs, his touch both firm and gentle. I’m not sure how he’s mastered exactly what I want without instruction, but I’m not about to complain either.

“Knox,” I rush out, not able to take it any longer. “Please.”

He slows, then stops, pulling back to look up at me. His lips glisten and his eyes burn with an intensity that takes my breath away. “Please what?”

He's torturing me, and he knows it. Asshole. But I play along because at this point, I'll do anything he asks.

“Please... make me come.”

He smirks, clearly pleased with my begging. “As you wish.”

Before I can prepare myself, he plunges two fingers inside me while his mouth returns to its task. The sensations send my body into overdrive, and I explode almost instantly. I scream his name, not caring if his neighbors hear.

Knox continues until I've ridden out my orgasm and then slowly withdraws. He kisses his way up my body, but I can’t move. I'm completely spent, at least I feel that way until his lips land on mine. I can taste the remnants of my own pleasure on his lips. My hands find their way to his shoulders, tracing the lines of his muscles, then down to his chest. His heart is pounding as hard as mine.

He backs away and I immediately miss his warmth, but it only takes a second for me to figure out what he’s doing next. His hands make their way to his jeans, and I watch as he undoes them and takes both his pants and boxer briefs off in one quick motion. My eyes widen once they land on his cock, and I can’t help but wonder how it’s going to fit.

I can’t deny that I’m also a little excited about the challenge. It’s something I’d heard whispers about on campus since we exchanged numbers, but never something I thought I would actually witness.

He reaches underneath the pillow next to me and pulls out a condom. I watch as he tears it open with his teeth and rolls it on. There’s something incredibly sexy about how practiced and fluid his movements are. He’s probably done this a thousand times before , I remind myself. You’re just another notch on his belt.

Sliding back over me, he positions himself at my pussy. He waits, searching my eyes for something—permission, maybe? Reassurance? I don’t know what he needs from me, but I give him the most confident look I can and nod. That’s all it takes.

He eases himself into me and my body tenses up, causing Knox to halt his movements.

“Relax,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I don't want to hurt you.”

His tenderness surprises me, but I don’t say a word. Instead I take a deep breath, forcing my body to relax, to allow him in. He moves slowly, inch by inch, and the initial discomfort starts to give way to a growing pleasure. Each thrust penetrates deeper, making me gasp and clutch at his back.

“Fuck, Selene,” he says through gritted teeth. “You're so tight.”

He starts to move with more intention, setting a rhythm that reignites the fire that had just barely cooled. My nails dig into his shoulders as he drives into me to the point where I can barely contain the moans fleeing my lips.

“Damnit.”

I look into his eyes when I hear what he’s muttered. “What’s wrong?”

“I'm close,” he warns, but I can already tell from the way his muscles are tensing, and his thrusts are becoming more erratic. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this quickly.”

For someone who I thought was very experienced in this area, I’m shocked by his words. I smirk, pleased that I have this kind of effect on him. “It's okay,” I whisper, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him down to kiss me. “Come for me.”

With that permission, he lets go. His thrusts become desperate and forceful, and I find one of my hands gripping the headboard as his body slams into mine. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with his ragged breathing. With one low animalistic groan, he stiffens and buries himself deep inside me, his body shaking as he reaches his climax. I can feel the intensity of his release, and it sends a final shiver through my own body.

For a moment, the world is silent except for our heavy breathing. He collapses on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight, and I wrap my arms around him, savoring the closeness for a moment. This isn’t what I expected. It’s more intimate than I ever imagined, and a part of me is scared by how much I’m enjoying it.

Knox rolls off me and lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. I turn onto my side to face him, propping my head up with one hand. He looks different in this moment, but I can’t exactly place why. I want to say something, but I'm not sure what. Thanks? That was amazing?

Before I can decide, he speaks. “You were... incredible,” he says, though there's an almost reluctant tone in his voice, as if admitting this costs him something.

I smile, stupidly pleased by the compliment, but I can hear a ‘but’ there that I’m trying to ignore. “You're not so bad yourself.”

We fall into another round of silence. This was supposed to be uncomplicated, no-strings-attached sex. But now that it's done, everything feels a lot more tangled.

“Don't get any ideas,” Knox says suddenly, turning his head to look at me. His eyes are hard again, the softness from earlier wiped away. “This doesn't change anything.”

And there it is—the gut punch I knew was coming but hoped would hurt less when it landed.

“I know,” I say, though my voice sounds small and distant to my own ears. “I wasn’t thinking anything else.”

He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Good. Because the last thing I need is drama.”

I watch as he stands and walks to his closet in all his naked glory. It doesn’t take much for me to figure out where this is going. Why did I think this would be a good idea? Because I'm an idiot, clearly.

I slide out of bed and search for my clothes. My clothes are a crumpled mess on the floor, but I pick them up and throw them on.

I have just enough time to pull my leggings over my hips before Knox turns to face me, having put on a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He pauses, as if he might say something to soften the blow he just delivered, but I don't give him the chance.

“I'm going to take off,” I say.

Knox shrugs. “Do what you need to.”

“You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.”

Part of me wants to stay and argue with him because he can fuck all the way off, but I know it’s a waste of my time. Instead, I grab his hoodie from the chair by his desk and slip it over my head. It's far too big on me, hanging down to my thighs and swamping my hands in fabric, but it smells like him and for some stupid reason, that comforts me. I throw him a look, almost daring him to say something about it. He doesn’t say a word, saving us both the trouble, and within seconds I leave his room, closing the door behind me.

I try to contain my emotions as I look up, but apparently that wasn’t in the cards. My heart skips a beat when I find Isla and Asher are standing there. I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Crap. This is exactly what I didn’t want. I’m sneaking out of Knox’s room, and of course, I run into them. I can see Isla’s eyes widen as she takes in the scene—my flushed face, my slightly messy hair, and the Crestwood Red Wolves hoodie that’s definitely not mine.

I freeze, trying to mask the anger bubbling up inside me. “Oh, um... Isla! Asher!” I stammer, feeling completely flustered. “How are you? How was the game?”

“Fine…but what are you doing here?” Isla asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I was just... helping Knox... with something. But I’m leaving now.” I try to sound casual, but it’s clear I’m not fooling anyone.

“Right. Helping. But why do you look pissed?” Isla’s skeptical look doesn’t help me at all.

Asher wraps an arm around Isla’s waist, and when I glance at him, his expression matches hers. They both know exactly what’s going on, and it makes me want to scream.

Before I can come up with any kind of response, Knox’s voice calls from inside the room, “Selene, did you forget something?”

My face flushes an even deeper shade of red. “Fuck you,” I mumble under my breath before giving Isla and Asher an awkward wave and practically bolting down the hallway.

“Wait—” Isla starts to say, but I cut her off.

“I need to calm down. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I don’t wait for her response. I just need to get out of here. This whole situation is fucking crazy, and I can’t handle it right now. I just need space from what feels like a massive car crash that has become my life.