Chapter 18
KNOX
Skylar stirs just as the first hints of morning slip into my basement after sleeping peacefully throughout the night.
Me, I’ve been up for hours, long before sunrise, watching over her.
Couldn’t look or focus on anything else while she’s been curled up like this in my lap.
As agonizing as it’s been.
Every tick of the clock physically hurt as I waited for her to wake up. She’s been right here, and I haven’t been able to touch her the way I want to. With my hands, mouth, teeth.
Then again, I can’t really complain. After all, I have her. I’m in heaven.
Even sitting here, in this hard chair, is comfortable with her here.
I get to look at her, to memorize every inch of her face. The twitch of her nose. The pursed lips that look like they’re begging me to kiss her. With every shift of her body, my cock jerks in my jeans.
And thank fuck, the wait is over.
From beneath thick lashes, Skylar blinks up at me. My girl is holding her breath, watching to see what her predator will do next.
Which is nothing, other than studying my prey. Drinking in her timid expression, how her chest expands.
The smallest smile curves my lips up when she trusts me enough to skim her fingers along my jaw, leaving a trail of heat behind.
Softness, tenderness, she brands both into me.
Fuck, I love how shy she can be.
The blankets I pulled high over her slip to the floor, alerting me that she might not be shy after all. She might be tricking me, using her arms to distract me long enough to slip out of the chair.
Or maybe she just needs to use the bathroom.
Whatever it is, I’m boiling at the thought of her getting away from me.
My grip on her thigh tightens, my arm locking around her waist.
My body becomes her cage.
She’s not leaving this chair. She’s not leaving me.
“Knox, I—” She flinches.
There’s nowhere to run.
“No.” My fingers bruise her flesh. My chin presses against the top of her head. “Stay.”
“You’re hurting me.” Her nails scraping my neck is the hottest thing. “Why? I thought I was special.”
“You are,” I rasp, voice thick from desire so deep I’m having trouble understanding it myself. “Mine.”
“Then why are you hurting me?”
My cock jerks with all that wiggling.
The feel of me beneath her stops Skylar’s frantic attempts to escape.
When she tilts her head up, I draw mine back so I can look at her. Her pupils are huge. Her fingers brush the hollow of my throat, making me shiver.
I see the change in her expression before I hear her.
“Okay, then. Knox.” Her manipulation attempt isn’t subtle.
But her fluttering eyelashes and the way she says my name make it hard to deny her anything.
“I was wrong. You aren’t hurting me. I’ll stop fighting.
I’ll do better. I…” Her cheeks burn bright red.
“I can get on my knees for you again, to earn your forgiveness.”
Plenty of living-hides have tried that before. Offering sex in exchange for mercy happens more often than I’d like.
Jett lied to them, both men and women. Took without fulfilling his end of the bargain.
I never did. Never cared about anything other than doing my job.
Until her.
Thing is, even though I’m hard, sex isn’t the only thing on my mind.
Nurturing her is a compulsion. A calling.
Using her body will come later.
“Don’t need your apologies right now, so don’t even try.” I dip my chin, staring her dead in the eye. “Not unless you want to find out what it actually feels like when I hurt you.”
“What? You said I was safe with you.” Those nails she scratches my neck with, they cut deeper now.
They’ll leave marks. Marks for my family to see.
I grab her wrists, pressing both her hands to my chest. That’s better.
“It could be the kind of pain that you like.” I squeeze her wrists. “Or not. Test me.”
The warning in my tone does the trick. She goes still.
“Good girl.” It feels weird to call anyone that, but with her, I can’t stop it.
Skylar deserves the praise. She deserves my cock in her pussy too.
Both of us do.
“What are you going to do to me?” Her eyes go even wider, her breath nothing but rasps.
She gets off on fearing me almost as much as I enjoy putting that fear into her.
“Get everything we need down here, then take you upstairs to the bathroom, change your bandage, and then clean you up.” My legs are still half-numb when I stand, the lingering ache a reminder she spent the whole night curled in my lap.
I revel in it because it’s Skylar who did this to me. “After that, I’ll feed you.”
“In the farmhouse?” All color drains from her face. “We’ll sit with the others?”
“Hell no. Here.” I motion to the table.
I take her there, setting her down. One hand stays wrapped around her throat, a silent command to stay put.
She narrows her eyes. Her pulse beats wildly against my fingertips.
She’s fire wrapped in defiance, and I feel every spark of it. The rising confidence within her turns me on like no other.
“Even if I disobey, you won’t dare actually harm me,” she growls, baring her teeth at me. “You’re lying.”
“Keep being a brat, and you’ll see just how much of a liar I am.” A part of me hopes she will, just for the pleasure of playing with her. Another time. “Listen, Trouble. I’ll be right back. Stay here.” A pause. “It’s the cleanest. The safest.”
“Fine.” An adorable huff is all I get before I climb the stairs.
A glance at the clock in my kitchen shows it’s a little after seven a.m. Reese and Grandpa should be up by now, as both of them wake up at the crack of dawn. The rest will join them soon.
If they haven’t already.
When there are living-hides for them to play with, my family gets riled up. The energy shifts around the farmhouse. The promise of violence turns them hungrier.
Just in case they decide to drop by, I draw the blinds around my house first. Next is packing everything I need for Skylar.
The picnic basket I bought on our last trip to town sits under my sink.
The others assumed I needed it for work. I never bothered correcting them. Never told them I meant to use it for actual picnics. And I will, with Skylar, in less than two weeks. Not this one—after today, it won’t be sanitary—but still. Picnics.
Imagining a future with her has me hard again. I shove the images out of my head. Fast.
Clean, deep bowl. Warm water from the kettle. Two washcloths. Liquid soap. A first-aid kit. Change of clothes for Skylar and me, five shirts and sweatpants, just in case.
I pack it all.
Last but not least, an egg salad sandwich for me. Mango puree and coconut water for her.
Back down to the basement I go, locking up behind me.
The water sloshes in the bowl. The stairs are warm beneath my feet.
And beautiful, haunted Skylar waits for me at the table. The sight of her stops my heart from beating.
Until she smiles at me, maybe hoping to appeal to my soft side.
Can’t have that. She can’t go try to run. Can’t go anywhere outside this house without me. She won’t make it.
Escaping Colbert while my family is alive is impossible. Numerous leather purses scattered across the US serve as proof.
“Don’t punish me.” Something in my expression frightens her, anxiety bleeding into her voice.
More fear ripples from her the closer I get. I stay quiet, soaking it in.
“I stayed here, like you asked. Please.”
“I’m not about to punish you.” The picnic basket’s on the table. Skylar flinches at the thunk. “I’m here to take care of you.”
“You’re lying. You’re giving me that look.” Her eyes gloss, shimmering with unshed tears. “That angry look.”
“Angry, huh?” I curl my fingers around her wrist, locking my gaze on hers.
“Yes.”
This close, her scent wraps around me, subtle but undeniable. My body hums as I recognize it. This isn’t bleach, nor is it lime, nor any of the other things that fill this basement.
This is her. Her arousal. Her need. Distinctly hers.
“Not angry. But this—” I press her palm to my cock. “This is what you do to me. When I look at you like that, it’s because I’m picturing my dick fucking that tight little throat.”
She gasps, the sound pulling something dark from my depths.
“Feel that? How hard I am for you?” I grind my hips, hungry for the friction though I shouldn’t. “But there’s order to things, starting with taking care of your wound. You’re pre-med, you know better.”
Her eyes are as wide as saucers. “I never told you I was.”
“Didn’t have to. The day you booked the tour here, I found out everything I could about you.” I’ll never get enough of the way she looks at me, stunned and in awe. “So yeah, even though I’m dying to fuck you, tending to you is more important.”
“Fuck me?” she whispers, but it sounds for all the world like a moan. “Who says I’d let you?”
I huff a laugh.
She scoffs.
“You did,” I say.
Before I get to cleaning her, I scowl, remembering she probably needs the bathroom. So I carry her upstairs, her weight nothing in my arms.
We use the bathroom, with my hand shackled around her wrist at all times so she won’t break into a run that could end her life.
It’s adorable, the way she keeps insisting she never said I could fuck her as I pass her a fresh toothbrush. I don’t say a word, standing next to her while we both brush our teeth.
Moments later, we’re back in the basement, where I lower her to the table.
“Well, when did I say that?” Secretly, Skylar enjoys teasing me.
She likes this little fake argument. Fine, I’ll let her have it.
“Only every time you stare at me. Your eyes go dark. Your pussy, I smell it, how much you need me.” I hook my fingers into the hem of her shirt. “You’re basically telling me you’d let me do anything to you.”
“You’re around about it. All of it.”
“I’m not.”
Skylar might resist me with her mouth, but her body says otherwise.
Hands on my shoulders, she scooches to help me nudge her shirt from beneath her ass and up her body, exposing herself to me inch by inch.
A fire burns within me. My desires are far deeper than just fucking her. When my knuckles brush over her naked body, I see our future.