Chapter 21 Knox
KNOX
The world stalls, then violently lurches forward.
My nostrils flare. Blood roars through my veins, scalding me from the inside.
You. Are. Mine.
I’ve been claimed.
Possessing Skylar’s body was easy. Her moans, her virgin blood, her need dripping down her thighs—I forced these things out of her.
Her heart, though, she had to give it to me willingly.
I pushed her, yes, but no one can summon a feeling that isn’t already there.
My chest heats up. I can’t take my eyes off her.
I feel too much. My whole body’s buzzing with it, whatever the hell it is.
You. Are. Mine.
“That was all you.” With a palm on her cheek and my fingers in her hair, I yank her close.
Her body is flush against mine, her heartbeat quick, almost panicked. “What was all me? What does that—”
“You, Skylar.” I’m throbbing, aching, but it’s not about sex, as much as I want to be buried inside her again.
It’s about this.
Kissing her.
Before she can resist me, I lean in and silence her with my mouth on hers. I lick and bite her, tracing obsessive circles over her cheek with my thumb.
Nothing will stop me from learning everything about her, tasting her, claiming her.
The sounds of pleasure she’s making grow louder when I tilt my head. Hotter when I yank her hair harder.
Every sound she makes feeds me. Fills me with certainty. With hunger.
Fuck, everything about her is perfect. The swell of her breasts. That rapid pulse right there, beneath her jaw.
More. Another one.
I’d cut her name into my own flesh. I’d do anything if it meant I could have her like this for the rest of my life.
To keep claiming her with my lips, my tongue, my fingers that can’t get enough of her.
Her mouth, that’s where I belong.
The reason I end up pulling back is that someone slams their fist against the front door.
A growl reverberates in my chest.
My arms automatically go around Skylar, even though she’s safe. Jett—has to be that asshole—can’t possibly have the keys to my house on him. My bet is he doesn’t even remember where he left them.
They’re probably buried under the mountains of trash in his place. He’s not getting through the front door, let alone the basement door.
“Yo, Brother,” Jett shouts from outside.
Skylar stiffens, terror bleeding from her wide eyes.
“Just dropped the new hide on your porch,” he adds. “See ya after my nap or whatever.”
My brother’s heavy footfalls fade until they’re an echo, then nothing.
Skylar lets out a relieved breath, and just like that, her jealous growl is back in full force. “Don’t do it. Don’t bring Easton down here.”
“You know it’s not like that. He means nothing to me.” To drive the point home, I steal her bottom lip, snagging it between my teeth.
She squirms in my grip, whimpering, “Ow, ow, ow.”
I don’t let go.
She has no idea how much her fury turns me on.
I’m suffocated by the need to have more of her wide eyes. Driven to snap one hand on the back of her head.
So I do. I tug her as close as possible, coax her lips open, and take. We’re starving, both of us. I kiss her more brutally than before, and she kisses me right back.
I tighten my grip on her until she screams in my mouth.
That wounded sound fucks with me the most. I bite her lip hard, groaning as her blood coats my tongue.
I don’t swallow it. Won’t. The beast in me has other plans.
With my thumb, I pry Skylar’s bottom lip down. I take advantage of her confused state and let her blood and my spit spill into her mouth.
“You’re mine.” Releasing her jaw, I cover her pretty lips before she has a chance to get rid of us. “We’ll always be together, always. Easton’s skin is fucking nothing.”
Skylar’s cheeks puff as she holds it all in.
Her narrowed gaze is accusatory still.
Traitor.
Cheater.
Don’t you touch him.
My chest is ready to split open from all this love she’s showering me with.
Reining myself in, I give her a clipped, “Swallow.”
The feral little thing huffs against my palm, shaking her head.
“Skylar, I love it when you’re stubborn, but right now, we have work to do. So. Swallow.”
Her fingers fist my shirt, her nails digging hard enough to sting. She shakes her head in a dare.
“We’ve got two weeks here. Tanning takes longer, so I obviously won’t get it done by the time we leave, but I have to get started.
If I don’t, and they drop by here, they’ll notice.
” I slide my hand up a little higher, a warning that I could block her nose.
That I could choke her. “In that case, I’ll slaughter them to keep you safe.
However, I can avoid it by working on him. That’s all it is—work.”
Her hands go around her throat, then she points out there. A silent question of: Why not kill them now, like you want Bronwyn dead?
Skylar’s mad on my behalf, same as I am.
It makes me crazy that she cares about me.
But…
“Our situation is different. Bronwyn was going to murder you.” Jett wants me just as dead, but yeah, he’s needed here. “That’s why not.”
Skylar swallows and immediately starts protesting. Her muffled words are a cluster of adorable mumbo jumbo. I love them. How she sounds. The brush of her lips on my palm is as sweet as it is depraved.
And with those lowered eyebrows, she looks like a hellion. A lethal one.
I see it then, clearly. She’s not meant to be a gentle wallflower. She’s mine, and that means she belongs with me. She can work with me. Can help me flesh Easton.
More than help. We’ll do it together.
I’ll tell her about it soon enough. Right after I’m done playing with her.
Getting her riled up has become one of my favorite things.
“Knox!” she yelps when I throw her over my shoulder.
I slap her luscious ass. “Quiet.”
She snarls, kicking and scratching my back as I carry her to the table, grab the rope, and haul her back onto the hook. Every act of her rebellion has my cock throbbing.
Once she’s beautifully hung on the middle hook, I plant a kiss on her growling mouth. “Be right back.”
She doesn’t hurl more accusations, already quiet as I go up the stairs.
The front door’s hinges squeak when I tear it open. Sunlight blasts across my face as I lean down to grab the container holding Easton’s skin.
I slam the door shut, and those damn hinges whine again. Not loud, but enough to grate on my nerves.
It shouldn’t matter. In two weeks, this house will no longer be my home.
But old habits win out. I set the container down and grab a can of lubricant spray from the kitchen.
While I oil the hinges, I make a vow to myself. When Skylar and I move into our new home, the hinges will never squeak. I’ll take care of everything. Always.
Once I’m done with that part, I pick up the container and return to the basement.
“Put me down,” is how she greets me.
A smirk tugs at my lips from watching her limbs thrash as she flings herself side to side.
She’s going to love my surprise.
“Don’t you touch him. Knox.” Her cries grow louder, more desperate, the closer I get to the table.
Apparently, at the sight of Easton, she’s forgotten all about killing my family, her possessiveness claiming her whole. It sparks something dark and electric in me, a pulse that shoots straight through my chest.
“You said you were mine.” Once I drop the container onto the table, her panic rises. “You can’t be his. You can’t.”
Arms folded across my chest, I face her. Christ, I like her squirming. The red blotches on her cheeks and neck get me hard enough to ache.
“Someone’s gotta do it,” I tell her. It’s a half-truth, enough to rile her up some more. “And since you don’t know the exact steps—”
“Teach me,” she snaps. Skylar’s snarl is something wild. Starved and territorial. “I’ll do it.”
“Hmm.”
Her eyes are like daggers, sinking into me as I walk toward her.
“Knox?” Her eyes narrow as I undo the knot around her wrists. She stops wriggling, understanding tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re actually going to let me help you?”
Over the years, I’ve lifted dozens of hides off these hooks. Hundreds of them.
Never like this.
Taking her down from the hooks is like coming home.
“Yes. We’re doing it together.” Her weight in my arms isn’t a burden. It’s a gift I’m going to carry with me till the day I die. “I’ll teach you.”
“Really?”
The moment her bare feet hit the floor, Skylar latches onto my waist. My chest swells because of that simple gesture. She needs me that close.
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” I vow, prying her hands off.
Instead of brushing my lips over her wrists and memorizing her wild pulse, I guide her toward the table and turn her around.
She’s been at my table many times, but seeing her here and knowing we’re about to flesh a hide together is unlike anything I could’ve imagined.
Flames lick at my bones, my entire body. I’m burning up. Hard. Want her.
Fueled by the need to feel more of Skylar, I hug her middle, thrusting her back against my front.
She’s just as hot for this, moaning, pushing her ass back. Her nails dig into my forearm, the pain serving as a goddamn temptation.
She deliberately grinds her ass back, making me throb. I fucking love that Easton’s skin doesn’t interest her as much as my hard cock does.
“Bad girl.”
Deciding to ignore the relentless pulse between my legs, I reach over her to get to the shelves. I grab two sets of gloves and slam them on the table.
“Are you upset?” she whispers.
It sounds for all the world like she wishes I were. That she hopes I’d lose it and lick her like I did at the farmhouse.
I’m too goddamn close to doing that and worse.
Won’t.
“No.” Just dying to fuck you. “Now listen. Here’s how it’s going to go. Fleshing’s simple.” I shove the gloves on her first.
I do it for sanitary reasons, but also—yeah, I’m jealous too. If her skin ever touched Easton’s, I’d fucking lose it.
“I’m listening.”
“You’re taking off what doesn’t belong,” I say, pulling gloves over my hands, then laying out a slab of Easton on the table. “Meat, fat, membrane. Anything that’ll rot, it has to go.”
“Kind of like debriding a wound.”