Chapter 49 Knox
KNOX
She opened the door and climbed in first. I followed, pulling the door shut behind us. The interior was all black leather and soft lighting, with a solid black partition separating us from the driver.
“He has instructions not to lower it unless I text him,” Harper said, her voice dropping to something huskier. “And the windows are blacked out. No one can see in.”
Christ.
She climbed onto my lap, straddling me, her knees pressing into the leather on either side of my hips. Her fingers traced down my chest, playing with the hem of my henley.
“I told you if you were a good boy, I’d reward you,” she whispered against my lips.
Every nerve ending in my body ignited. I was hard before she finished the sentence.
“You’d better stop saying stuff like that.”
“Oh, yeah?” She nipped at my lower lip. “Why’s that?”
“Harper”—I grabbed her hips, holding her still when she started to rock against me—“I haven’t had sex in fourteen years. If I have any hope of making this last, I need to go slow.”
She pulled back slightly, studying my face. Then her lips curved into something wicked.
“Mmm.” Her lips trailed down my jaw, finding that spot just below my ear that made my hands tighten on her. “Do you want to go slow?”
I groaned. “I want every inch of you. Right now. But—”
“But?”
“First time might be embarrassing. Just warning you.”
She laughed, low and warm, her breath hot against my neck. “Knox.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t care if it lasts thirty seconds or thirty minutes.” She pulled back to meet my eyes. “I just want you. However I can have you.”
Something loosened in my ribs.
“However you can have me,” I repeated.
“However.” She kissed the corner of my mouth. “Whenever.” The other corner. “As many times as we want.” She pulled back, grinning. “That’s the whole point of freedom, isn’t it?”
Before I could respond, she climbed off my lap.
And then she sank to her knees on the floor of the limo, positioning herself between my legs.
“What are you—” The words died in my throat as she reached for my waistband.
“We have a little project to work on,” she said, unbuckling my jeans with nimble fingers. “Your stamina needs some attention.”
The zipper came down. Cool air hit my straining length.
“And don’t worry.” She tugged at my jeans until I lifted my hips, letting her pull them down along with my boxers. “If you finish fast, you can take your time with me until you’re ready to go again.”
I sprang free, hard and aching. She stared at me, her tongue sliding along her lower lip.
“God.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “You have no idea how many times I imagined this.”
“Probably half as many times as I did.”
“Doubt it.” She wrapped her fingers around the base, and I hissed at the contact. Aside from that one moment of passion during lockdown, this was the first hand to touch me in over a decade. “I had a lot of slow shifts in that infirmary.”
Then she lowered her head.
Her tongue traced around the tip, and the world narrowed to that single point of contact. The sensation was overwhelming. Her tongue was light. Teasing. Her eyes locked with mine as she licked a slow stripe down my shaft and back up again, coating me in wet heat.
I groaned, my head falling back against the seat.
“Eyes on me,” she commanded.
I forced my head up. Watched as she took me into her mouth, inch by inch, sinking down until I felt the back of her throat. She hummed around me, the vibration spreading through my entire body.
Fourteen years. Fourteen years of nothing but my own hand in the dark, and now this. Now her.
She pulled up slowly, sucking gently, then sank back down. Her rhythm was perfect. Unhurried. Like she wanted to savor every second of this as much as I did.
She pulled off with a soft pop, stroking me slowly. “You okay?”
“Define okay.”
“Still breathing?”
“Barely.”
She grinned and took me back into her mouth, deeper this time. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, and I had to grip the leather seat to keep from losing it right there.
The sight of her on her knees between my legs, her dark hair spilling over my thighs, her lips stretched around me—I couldn’t look away. This was better than any fantasy. Better than anything I’d imagined in that cell when the lights went out.
I threaded my fingers through her hair, not guiding, just needing to touch her. She moaned around me, and the sound shot straight to my core.
“Harper.” My voice was wrecked. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to …”
She pulled off with a soft pop, looking up at me with swollen lips and heavy eyes.
“Knox.”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to grab my hair.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “And fuck my mouth.”
Every thought in my head evaporated.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve been thinking about this every night.” She pressed a kiss to my hip, then my stomach. “Watching you try to stay composed in that infirmary while I pictured exactly this. So, yes.” She looked up at me, all heat and hunger and certainty. “I’m sure.”
She licked her lips and opened for me, her jaw relaxing. I gathered her hair in my fist, wrapping the dark strands around my knuckles, and guided her head down. Slowly. Watching every inch disappear between her lips until she’d taken all of me.
Then I began to move.
Shallow thrusts at first. Testing. Making sure she was okay.
“More,” she managed around me, the word muffled but clear.
Permission granted.
I fucked her mouth the way I’d fantasized. Controlled the tempo, the depth, the pressure. Watched her take it all, her eyes never leaving mine, watering slightly from the effort but burning with satisfaction.
She was getting off on this. I could hear it in her muffled moans. Feel it in the way her fingers dug into my thighs. See it in the flush spreading across her cheeks.
One of her hands disappeared between her own legs, pressing against the seam of her jeans, and the sight nearly undid me.
“Are you touching yourself?” My voice came out rough. Wrecked.
She moaned in response, and I felt the vibration all the way to my spine.
“Fuck.” I tightened my grip on her hair. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I wasn’t going to last. Not like this. Not after years of nothing.
But when I looked at her, kneeling between my thighs, one hand on me and one hand on herself, so eager to give me this—I stopped fighting it.
“I’m close,” I ground out.
She nodded, just barely, and sucked harder. Silent permission.
I came with a groan that felt like it had been building for a decade. My hips jerked as I spilled into her throat, my fist tightening in her hair as wave after wave crashed through me. She took it all, swallowing around me, drawing out every last tremor until I was shaking.
When I finally released her, she didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she cleaned me with slow, gentle attention, savoring until I was spent.
Then she looked up at me with those wide green eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips. “Was it good?”
Was it good?
Something fierce and primal roared to life in my chest.
I lunged for her. She let out a squeal as I hauled her off the floor, flipping her onto the long leather bench and pinning her beneath me.
“Let me show you,” I growled against her throat, “exactly how good you made me feel.”