Chapter Twenty-One
Hailey
The water isn’t cold. I’d meant for it to be. Cranked the handle all the way to the left, ready to punish myself with ice
water for that little performance at breakfast. But Marlena’s luxury prison apparently doesn’t believe in discomfort, and
even the cold setting runs lukewarm at worst.
So instead I stand here under a spray that’s slowly warming, steam curling up around me.
I tip my head back, letting the water run over my face. My cheeks are hot—water temp or arousal, I can’t tell anymore.
I’m reaching for the shampoo when I hear it—the soft click of the bathroom door opening.
My hand freezes. Steam billows thick around me, and I lean forward, peering around the shower curtain just enough to see a
slice of the bathroom through the haze.
Knox is standing there.
“Door was locked,” I manage.
“Was.” He takes a step closer, his eyes raking over the sliver of me visible past the curtain.
He doesn’t have to say another word. I know exactly why he’s here.
I turn off the water and reach for the towel, wrapping it around me as I step out of the tub. Knox is leaning against the
sink, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes never leave mine as I approach him, drops of water trailing down my
legs.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he reaches up, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger, tracing the line of my jaw. I lean into his touch, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Knox’s eyes flare, and before I can react, he’s crushed his mouth to mine. It’s a fierce, demanding kiss, one that leaves
no room for doubt or hesitation. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my towel dropping to the floor as I wrap my arms around
his neck.
He lifts me onto the sink, his hands gripping my bare, wet thighs. He kisses me like a starving man, his tongue plunging into
my mouth, his teeth nipping at my lips. His grip tightens, fingers pressing into my skin as he presses his entire body against
mine. I can feel the hard bulge in his pants against my inner thigh.
There’s no turning back now. I don’t want to.
His hands leave my thighs, sliding up to grasp my waist as he pulls me closer to the edge of the sink, grinding against me.
I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own. His mouth leaves mine, trailing hot, hungry
kisses down my neck, pausing to suck and nip at my collarbone. I gasp, my head falling back, giving him better access.
His hands slide up my waist, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing against my hardened nipples. I moan softly, arching into
his touch.
“Shh,” he whispers as he places his fingertip against my lips.
Liam’s on the other side of the door . . . and for a moment I pause. A thread of doubt . . .
I push the thought of Liam away, looking into Knox’s dark, hungry eyes. He’s all I see, all I want right now. His fingertip
slowly trails along my lower lip until it presses past my teeth, a silent command to keep quiet. I suck on his finger, swirling
my tongue around it, tasting the salt of his skin. Knox’s eyes darken, his gaze locked onto my mouth. He growls low in his
throat, a sound of pure, primal want.
I want so desperately to replace his finger with his cock.
He pulls his finger from my mouth, trailing it down my chin, my neck, between my breasts, and down to my navel. I squirm under
his touch, my body aching for more.
“Please,” I whisper.
He leans in, his breath hot on my ear. “I told you to be quiet,” he murmurs in a low rumble. “Do I need to fill that mouth
of yours to make sure it happens?”
I nod, my breath hitching as his hand moves lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot between my thighs. I gasp,
my hips jerking at the contact. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that vibrates against my skin.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, his hand wrapping around my thigh, hiking it up to his hip. He grinds against me, his clothed
erection pressing against my nakedness. I whimper, my head falling back against the mirror, my eyes fluttering closed. His
mouth is on my neck again, his teeth grazing my skin, his tongue licking away the sting.
I fumble with his belt, my hands shaking with urgency. He helps me, his hands covering mine as we work together to free him.
He springs out, hot and hard in my hand. I stroke him, my thumb circling the tip.
A sound catches in his throat as I touch him, his forehead resting against mine. “Lick it,” he commands. I can feel his heartbeat
pulsing through his cock, a steady, insistent rhythm that matches my own racing pulse.
He’s so fucking hot. Every hard inch of him.
I slide off the sink, my body pressing against his as I lower myself to my knees. The tiles are warm but hard beneath me,
but I barely notice, my focus entirely on the man in front of me. I look up at him—his eyes are dark with lust, his breath
coming in gasps.
I run my tongue along my lips, wetting them before I take him into my mouth.
His taste is salty and masculine, his skin soft and smooth.
I swirl my tongue around his tip, feeling his body shudder in response.
I take him deeper, my cheeks hollowing out as I suck, my hand wrapping around his base, stroking him in rhythm with my mouth.
His hands tangle in my wet hair, guiding my movements, his groans of pleasure echoing through the bathroom. I can feel his
control fraying, his hips moving to meet my mouth. I relax my throat, taking him deeper, my nails digging into his thighs.
His grip tightens in my hair, a silent warning that he’s close. I can feel it too, his cock pulsing in my mouth, his breath
hitching in his chest. I redouble my efforts, wanting to push him over the edge, wanting to taste his release.
But suddenly, he pulls me back, his cock slipping out of my mouth with a pop. I look up at him, confused, my lips swollen
and shiny. He reaches down, pulling me to my feet, his hands gripping my shoulders.
“Not like this,” he growls, his voice hoarse with desire. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
He spins me around, my back to his front, his hands on my hips. He guides me to the sink, bending me over, my hands bracing
on the cool porcelain.
I watch him in the mirror as he reaches into the top drawer and pulls out a condom, his eyes locked onto mine as he slowly
rolls it on. He’s taken his shirt off, his muscles rippling under his tattooed skin.
Knox is so far from the clean-cut, perfect, golden boy I thought he was. He looks like a wild animal, savage and ready to
devour me. I push back against him, wanting to feel him inside me.
His hands grip my hips tighter, his thumbs tracing circles on my lower back. I can see the muscles in his jaw flex as he controls
his desire, drawing out this moment, making me wait. I wiggle my ass against him, trying to urge him on, but he just smirks,
his eyes never leaving mine in the mirror.
“Knox,” I whine, breathy and desperate. “Please.”
He leans over me, his body covering mine, his mouth by my ear. “Please what?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry with desire. “I want you,” I gasp out. “Inside me. Now.”
He chuckles, a dark, throaty sound that vibrates against my back. “I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he praises, his
teeth nipping at my earlobe. I squirm under him, my body aching with need. “But I also like a good girl who knows how to beg.”
I can feel his smirk against my skin, the bastard. He’s enjoying this, drawing out my torment, making me beg for it. I buck
my hips back against him, urging him to end this torture, but he just presses me firmer against the sink, his body heavy against
mine.
“Knox, please,” I beg in a mere whisper. “I need you.”
That’s all it takes. With a growl, he surges forward, filling me in one swift, powerful thrust. I bite my lip to stifle a
cry, my body arching as he stretches me, the sensation bordering on too much but exactly what I crave. His hands clamp down
on my hips, holding me steady as he pulls back slowly, only to drive in again, deeper this time.
I watch us in the mirror, my reflection a mess of flushed skin and wild eyes, his body towering behind me, every muscle tensed
and gleaming with a sheen of sweat. He’s relentless, setting a rhythm that’s hard and unyielding, each thrust pushing me closer
to the edge. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps, and I grip the sink tighter, my knuckles turning white.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” he hisses against my shoulder. One of his hands slides up my back, tangling in my hair, pulling
my head back just enough to expose my neck. He bites down lightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make me whimper, the mix
of pain and pleasure igniting something submissive inside me.
Knox knows exactly how to pull the good girl out of me.
I push back against him, meeting his movements, our bodies slick and synchronized in this heated dance.
The steam from the shower still lingers in the air, making everything feel hazy and dreamlike, but the feel of him inside me is sharp, real, overwhelming.
Pressure builds low in my belly, coiling tighter with every thrust, and I know I’m close, so damn close.
“Knox,” I gasp in barely a whisper, afraid that if I speak any louder, Liam might hear through the door. But Knox doesn’t
slow down; if anything, he drives harder, his free hand slipping around to the front, fingers finding my clit. He circles
it with expert skill, the added stimulation sending sparks shooting through me.
I bite down on my lower lip, hard enough to taste copper if that’s what it takes to remain silent. My body trembles, caught
in the delicious torment of his touch, his thrusts growing more urgent, more possessive. In the mirror, our eyes lock again,
and I see the hunger in his gaze, mirrored by my own desperate need. Sweat beads on his forehead, trickling down his temple,
and I want to lick it off, taste every part of him.