Chapter Twenty-Three #2
He doesn’t wait for permission. His fingers work my zipper, tugging it down, and then his hand is inside, wrapping around
my cock with a grip that’s firm and sure. I bite down on my lip to keep from groaning, the effort almost painful.
Knox strokes me slow at first, torturously slow, his thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke, spreading the pre-cum
that’s already leaking. My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in, trying to anchor myself as my knees threaten to buckle.
“Quiet,” he reminds me, lips brushing my ear. “Remember?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He picks up the pace, his fist tight and relentless, and I bury my face in his neck to
muffle the sounds trying to escape. He smells like smoke and sex, and it’s intoxicating. My hips thrust into his grip, fucking
his hand, desperate and shameless.
His free hand grips the back of my neck, holding me steady, holding me close. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Give it to me.”
The tension builds fast, coiling at the base of my spine, every nerve ending on fire. Knox twists his wrist on the next stroke,
tightens his grip, and I shatter. I come hard, spilling over his fist, my whole body shuddering as I bite down on his shoulder
to keep from crying out. He works me through it, stroking until I’m wrung dry and trembling against him.
We stand there for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged. Knox wipes his hand on his jeans, then cups
my face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. Blue eyes that have haunted me for years.
“I never forgot you.” Barely a whisper. “Not once. Not ever.”
My throat tightens. “I never wanted you to.”
He zips himself up, and I do the same, both of us trying to look like we didn’t just change everything. Knox’s hand lingers
on my hip for a moment before he steps back, putting space between us. We both walk to the kitchen to get something to drink
but I’m insatiable. I’m not sure I’ll ever be full after being hungry for so long.
I grab Knox by the front of his shirt, yanking him toward me with a force that surprises even me, my lips brushing his ear
as I whisper, “I’m not waiting any longer.” His eyes widen for a split second, that smirk turning into a grin that’s full
of challenge and heat, like he’s been waiting for me to unleash this side of myself.
We move silently across the cabin, away from the bed where Hailey sleeps, the fire’s glow dimming as we slip into the shadowed
corner by the window. Snowflakes dance outside, muffling the world, but inside, my pulse is a war drum. I spin him around,
pressing his back against the wall, my body pinning him there. His breath hitches, warm against my neck, and I can feel his
cock already stirring again through his pants—fuck, he’s insatiable, just like me.
My hands are rough, urgent, shoving his pants down just enough, exposing that perfect ass I’ve fantasized about for years.
He doesn’t resist, just arches into me, his own hands bracing against the wood. I fumble with my zipper, freeing myself, my
cock throbbing painfully hard, slick with need.
“Top shelf in the bathroom,” he breathes out, reminding me of the condoms and lube waiting there.
I growl low in my throat, not wanting to break the moment, but I know he’s right. I pull back just long enough to dart into
the bathroom, the door creaking faintly as I grab the supplies from the top shelf, my hands shaking with the urgency of it
all. Condom packet tears open with my teeth, lube slick in my palm, and I’m back before the cold air can even touch him, pressing
against his heat again.
He glances over his shoulder, eyes gleaming in the low light, that grin still challenging me.
I roll the condom on, coating myself generously, my fingers trembling as I prep him too, sliding one in slow, then two, feeling him clench and relax, his breath coming in quiet huffs.
“Fuck, yes,” he says, pushing back against my hand, urging me deeper.
I can’t hold back anymore. I withdraw my fingers, lining myself up, the tip pressing against him, hot and insistent. He nods
once, a silent go-ahead, and I push in slow at first, inch by torturous inch, feeling him open for me, tight and perfect.
A groan tries to escape my lips, but I bite it down, remembering Hailey, the cabin’s quiet fragility.
His body tenses, then yields, his back arching as I sink deeper, buried to the hilt. Fuck, it’s everything I imagined and
more—velvet heat gripping me like a vise, his muscles flexing around me. I pause there, savoring it, my hands gripping his
hips hard enough to leave marks, but he doesn’t complain; if anything, he leans into it, grinding back with a muffled hiss
of approval.
I start moving, shallow thrusts building to something fiercer, our bodies syncing like old times in the field, wordless understanding.
The wall creaks under his palms, but it’s faint, drowned by the snow outside. His breath comes in sharp pants, matching mine,
and I lean forward, my chest to his back, one hand sliding up his shirt to feel the hard planes of his abs contracting with
every push. I can tell he’s close—his whole frame trembling, pushing back against me in desperate sync. I angle just right,
hitting that spot that makes him arch, a muffled moan escaping.
“Harder,” he whispers, daring me, and I oblige, slamming in deeper, the slap of skin on skin barely audible over my pounding
heart. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down, and I taste salt when I bite his shoulder to stifle a moan. He’s pushing
back now, meeting me thrust for thrust, that fire in him matching mine, turning this into a battle of wills and want.
The pressure builds inside me, a storm that’s been brewing since those endless drills, and I drive into him with everything I have, our rhythm turning frantic, desperate.
His fingers scrape against the wall, nails digging in for leverage, and I feel the tremor in his thighs, the way his body clenches around me, pulling me deeper like he owns this as much as I do.
Every thrust sends sparks up my spine, my balls tightening, the edge creeping closer with each shared breath.
I reach around, wrapping my hand around his cock, stroking in time with my hips, feeling him throb and swell again.
He shudders, a low rumble in his chest, and I know he’s close too, the way his body clamps down on me, pulling me under.
Outside, the wind howls, but in here, it’s just us, this pure connection suddenly free. I pick up the pace, relentless, my
free hand covering his mouth gently when a groan slips out too loud. His eyes meet mine over his shoulder, dark and wild,
urging me on without words.
It hits me like a grenade—wave after wave crashing through, my vision blurring as I empty into him, hips jerking erratically.
He follows seconds later, spilling over my fist, his body locking up, then going slack against the wall. I hold him there,
both of us panting, slick with sweat, the afterglow humming in my veins like victory.
We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, before I pull out carefully, disposing of the condom in the bathroom
trash with quick, silent moves. When I return, he’s straightened his clothes, that smirk back in place, but his eyes hold
something deeper—satisfaction, maybe even a promise of more.
And then—
A soft sound from the bed. A shift of blankets.
We both freeze.
I look past Knox toward Hailey, expecting to see her still curled under the covers, still lost to sleep. But she’s not asleep.
Her eyes are open, watching us. Not anger. Not betrayal. Something closer to heat. To understanding.
She’s been watching.
I don’t know how long. Don’t know how much she saw. But from the flush on her cheeks and the way she’s biting her lower lip,
it was enough.
Knox is already moving, retreating to his spot near the door, spine straight, face unreadable. I move back to my corner by the wall, putting distance between us even though every instinct screams at me to stay close.
None of us says anything.
Hailey turns away, burrowing back into the blankets. The logs shift in the grate. The storm moans. And everything’s changed.
We’ve crossed a line we can’t uncross. And somehow, impossibly, I think all three of us know it was never going to stay uncrossed
forever.