23. Quinn
CHAPTER 23
QUINN
T he kiss is searing.
It’s a desperate attempt to taste each other, devour each other as Knox’s lips part beneath mine. Our teeth clack and the sound is loud in the silent gallery, almost startlingly so, but his tongue brushes across mine in an apologetic swipe before dipping in for more, easily taking control of the kiss.
It’s urgent, and the taste of him explodes on my tongue, fresh and spicy. I can taste the champagne I’ve drank and I want to cringe, but when his hands caress my face, keeping me close, the feeling bubbles throughout my body.
I inch closer, pressing myself fully into him. He’s a solid wall of warmth that coils deliciously down my body and settles between my thighs.
My heart pounds in my chest as I lose myself in him entirely.
A new beginning indeed.
“Wait,” Knox pants between kisses. His words tell me that he wants to pause the kiss that is more dizzying than any of the champagne I’ve had tonight, but the way his hands keep pulling me closer, the way he continues to press his mouth against mine again and again, tells me that he doesn’t want this to end either. “Princess, wait.”
I freeze when the totality of his words catches up to me, rocking back from him. Is he already regretting this? I mean, I did just throw myself at him like some simpering girl.
Knox’s reassuring grip slides down my arms, keeping me in my spot. Tingles skitter in the wake of his touch, and I can’t help the part of me that’s suddenly terrified of what he’s about to say.
He must read it on my face, my worry, because his dark brows furrow like he doesn’t understand why my initial reaction would be to pull away. He’s stepping into me, plastering himself against my front. I can feel the hard lines of his body, the stiffness of his cock against my stomach.
Warmth collects between the apex of my thighs at the feeling of that. I want it pressed a few inches lower and a few inches deeper.
“You’ve been drinking,” Knox breathes, and the pinch to his face becomes more tortured when I slide my hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. His eyes search mine with a frantic kind of energy; I don’t show him anything but the ache, the need for him that I’ve been locking deeply inside of myself. “I need you to be sober when I fuck you for the first time, Princess.”
“I’m fine,” I whine, because holy fuck does that sound good right now. I’m clinging to him just as tightly as he’s holding me. I roll my hips to emphasize how great of an idea fucking is and Knox makes a choked noise in response. “I’m not drunk enough to where I’d forget or regret any of this, Knox.”
He shakes his head as if trying to rid his mind of whatever he’s thinking. Hopefully, he was imagining fucking me because his pupils grow with hunger.
“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and I grin in triumph. Knox leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine as he confesses, his breath brushing across my lips. “I want to fuck you in a bed, not on some hard floor.”
It’s a poor excuse and we both know it. I’m more than willing to have a sore back from getting fucked into the marble beneath our feet. It’s been far too long since I’ve last had sex. Knox could fuck me out in the back alley and I’d enjoy it. I’d probably even thank him.
Maybe we should fuck in the back alley, I think, as desire rolls through me at the thought of him pressing me into the brick, taking what he wants.
“Just put a canvas down,” I suggest, voice hoarse with need. “Let’s make some art.”
Knox grunts like I’ve shot him, bucking his hips against me. I can feel how big he is and all I want to do is unleash his confined cock from his pants, run my fingers across the hardness of it, taste him on my tongue?—
“Easy,” he warns me playfully, but his eyes are dark. There’s a strain to his voice that tells me I should keep going. When I do, Knox gently removes my hands form where they’ve strayed to his belt. I hadn’t even noticed that my fingers had moved to his waist all on their own.
“Fuck,” I wince. “Sorry.”
“Say fuck again,” he asks, distracted. The hue of his eyes drip with lust, pupils blown wide as he stares me down. It fills me with a raw heat that has my confidence sparking and I bat my eyelashes up at him like I’m going to make him beg for it. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, watching me intently as I repeat the word. “Filthy, Princess,” he breathes against my mouth. “Every time you called me a prick or asshole or whatever creative curses you came up with, I wanted to taste them off your lips and fuck those words right out of your mouth.”
I can’t help but rub against him like a horny teenager.
My pussy is throbbing with need. I moan again as Knox gives in, dipping his head and sucking harshly on my neck. The burn of the suction feels so good.
I need to feel it on my clit.
“Shit,” I whine. His hands are everywhere now, winding down the length of my back, grabbing a handful of my ass to keep me glued to his front. “Need your cock, Knox,” I pant, and he’s moving back to my mouth, kissing me so forcefully that the both of us stumble backwards.
“You’ll get it, Princess,” he promises, hands dragging hot lines across my body. I’ve waited too long for this, for us to finally be on the same page. I’m about to beg him again, because my failed attempts at convincing him to fuck me right here on the floor are not working, but suddenly, the lights to the gallery cut out, sending the entire room into a pit of darkness.
It’s like we’re in the elevator all over again.
Knox groans and I can’t help the nervous laugh that bubbles up from the back of my throat.
This better not be some horror movie shit.
“What the hell?” I question, turning to look over my shoulder to see if in fact the entire room has succumbed to the same darkness. I don’t miss the way that Knox’s grip tightens on me as I move like I might disappear entirely if he lets go. My heart stutters in my chest because of it.
“Silvio told me this would happen at midnight,” Knox supplies, and I relax a little, knowing that the hooded murder from Red Grave isn’t about to pop out and slaughter us in the goriest way possible .
Small victories, and all that.
I fake an excited gasp. “My very own Cinderella moment! I’ve always wanted one!”
The smirk in Knox’s tone is clear as day when he answers, amusement echoing in the darkness. “Except, unlike Cinderella, you’ll be getting dick tonight.”
I swat at him, but hardly connect. Knox chuckles, deep and throaty and the sound buzzes warm between my thighs. Being on his good side is already proving to be spectacular, but he can’t keep torturing me like this.
“I think the dark really sets the mood, don’t you agree?” I ask as I move back into him, my fingers fumbling to find the top button of his shirt.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he grouses, catching my hands and guiding me through the dark gallery instead. The flashlight of his phone flickers on and I squint as Knox leads the way, my hand tucked tightly in his as I find my heels and hobble back into them with a soft hiss. They’re already aching and protesting the action. “When I fuck you, I’m going to need to see all of those pretty faces you’re going to make for me.”
I stumble and blame it on my shoes.
Knox swipes our abandoned champagne glasses from the floor and with my free hand, I grab the almost empty bottle. He leads me through the gallery into a back room, which must be the way to the exit at the rear of the building.
Inside is a kitchenette. Knox dumps the glasses in the sink with a loud clang.
When I scold him for not washing them, he arches a brow, illuminated by the glaring light coming from his phone. “Oh, now you want to stay longer and clean up?” He questions and I roll my eyes in response. “Is this my punishment for wanting to take you home and fuck you in a nice, comfy bed? C’mon, Princess, you know just how soft it is, don’t you? ”
I shiver at his words. I do know exactly how comfortable it is. I haven’t stopped thinking about his fluffy pillows or the way the mattress conformed perfectly to my body, how the thick blankets and lush smell of him surrounded me.
He’s right, I don’t give a fuck about the damn glasses.
The ride back the apartment is both the longest ride I’ve ever endured and also the most tension-filled.
It’s difficult to focus on anything other than Knox’s hand in mine, the soft and rigid texture of his skin; the way that his thumb soothes gentle circles across my hand where they’re intertwined in my lap. He’s warm, and it’s settling something in me while simultaneously forming a rock in my stomach when I think about what he’s endured to gain these scars.
How could anyone, let alone his family, do something like that? It’s utterly fucking evil and vile and…and…I can’t even think of another word to describe what Knox has gone through.
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat, breathing shallowly so I don’t make myself sick with the thoughts racing through my mind.
As if he’s already so attuned to my body language, Knox squeezes my hand, offering me a gentle smile. It’s crooked, where one corner of his mouth tilts higher than the other, but it’s easily the most handsome smile I’ve ever seen. It makes him look years younger, like he’s carrying less of weight of the world on his shoulders. It has me wishing I brought my sketchpad with me. When he looks at me like this, it feels like there’s a garden of anticipation sprouting in my stomach, a field of colorful flowers .
I frown when Knox untangles his fingers from mine but then he’s sliding that large palm slowly up my thigh. My gaze turns sharp but he looks like the perfect picture of innocence, smirk gone as he focuses intently on the road.
The car jumps when we hit a pothole and it causes Knox’s hand to slip even higher up my thigh. I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating off of my?—
“How are you doing over there, Princess?” Knox asks me, but I can hear the mirth in his voice, see the arousal in his eyes, flashing in the streetlights.
“Peachy,” I offer, using both hands to clamp down on his wrist to keep him from coming any closer to my already weeping pussy. The thin fabric of my dress does little to separate Knox’s searing touch. “Just peachy.”
I skip going back to my apartment, trailing after Knox with my hand still tucked in his.
My heart beats wildly in my chest. The closer we move towards his door, the more confident in my decision I am. I want him. I want his hands all over my body, his eyes and tongue on my skin, his cock plunged deeply into me.
The elevator had been the only option to get upstairs because of my tired feet, but Knox had thoroughly distracted me by pinning me up against the wall and slotting his lips against mine.
We stumbled out onto our floor in a fit of laughter. Now, I’m mostly just drunk off of Knox, his hands, the strain in his pants that’s calling to me like a beacon, and that sexy gleam in his eye.
“I’m going to get you some water,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my mouth. We both creeped quietly into the dark apartment, holding our breath and listening for movement. For college students, the weekend night is still young and his roommates must be out because I don’t hear any grunts or moans behind closed doors or through thin walls.
His hands settle on my hips, eyes shining with amusement. “And after you drink it, if you still want to?—”
“Yes, Knox,” I cut him off, tone earnest. “My answer isn’t going to change.”
He studies me, eyes hungry with desire, before he nods, slipping from the room.
I bite back the smile threatening to tear my face in two at the sight of his ass in those black trousers. I can’t wait to rip them off of him and find out what’s underneath.
Exhaling, I spin on my heel, kicking off my shoes. My feet sigh in relief as they fall flat against the hardwood floors and I wiggle my toes, admiring his room. It feels different this time, from when I’d woken up here hungover as fuck.
The light from the lamp beside the bed is soft, the pile of books stacked in pristine order as opposed to the ready-to-tip-over pile I remember. It’s clean, no clothes on the floor like in Slate’s room, no pair of panties thrown over the back of the desk chair.
Knox’s desk is the only thing I could consider messy, but even then, it’s cleaner than what some of my art stations look like when I’m elbows deep in a project. There’s a jar filled with chunks of charcoal sticks, a cloth drenched black hanging over its side. There are loose sheets of paper and thick graphite pencils for sketching and a cluster of sketchbooks stacked in a neat order, the one on top open.
Leaning closer, I squint against the dimness of the room to get a better look, and my breath hitches in my throat at what I see .
Sketch upon sketch litter the spread, each one of me. He’s made me look so beautiful that I’m not even sure I look like this. Even the ones that have clearly been drawn in a rush are impeccable.
It’s me in the elevator, head buried in my sketchbook, hat pulled low over my eyes. It’s me when Rory and Ace forced us all to have lunch together, tossing the grape at Slate. I flip the page and it’s me, scowling up at him the first night we met. Me sitting on the back of his motorcycle, rain plastered to my head, me?—
I all but collapse into the desk chair as I continue to pry. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s as if I’m in a trance. Some of the pages are filled with larger scale drawings, spanning across the spine of the book. When I’d eaten dinner with Knox, the shock on my face while finding out he could cook.
A hysterical laugh bubbles in my throat. I didn’t realize that Knox has been paying as much attention to me as I was with him. The drawings of his hands that I dropped all over the floor are a tribute to that.
“What are you doing?” Knox’s voice startles me. I whirl around, jumping from the chair to face him, but I don’t move any farther than that. I can’t because my knees are locked and my feet are glued to the floor.
He’s standing in the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He doesn’t move, either. When his eyes flicker from me to the sketchbook, my chest hurts at the guarded look he wears.
“That sketchbook is filled with drawings of me,” I blurt stupidly, still in shock.
I watch Knox’s throat work as he swallows. Like he’s considering not answering at all.
After a few, long seconds in silence, he breaths out a quiet, “Yes. ”
“Why?” I ask, trying to resist the urge to wring my fingers together.
“Because I really like you,” he answers, and my heart explodes in a flurry of want. My pussy flutters in a flurry of need.
All of this time we’ve spent fighting, when we’ve secretly liked each other. Every time Rory tried to ask me about Knox had been deny, deny, deny, because of this very moment right now. I hadn’t wanted to think of him like that, even when I subconsciously was desperate to. I didn’t actually want to like Knox, not after what he’d done, but I find myself admitting that I like him a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I could.
Bunching up the bottom of my dress into my hands, I take a step closer to Knox. He’s frozen in the doorway, watching me slowly drag the fabric up my body and over my head in a burst of confidence. I’d forgone a bra, and my nipples tighten as the chill of the room washes over me, underneath that piercing gaze.
In the few steps it takes me to cross the room to him, my dress is on the floor and Knox can’t stop looking at my body, drinking me in desperately like an artist does their inspiration.
“I really like you too, Knox,” I respond softly. This is the most intimate thing I’ve ever done, bare myself to a man while he’s still fully clothed. The ball is in his court and the bulge in his pants has me more than hopeful.
Knox curses. “Fuck, Princess. You’re making my hands shake.”
My solution is a simple one. I take the glass from him and reach over to set it on the dresser. I can feel his eyes rove my body as I move, gaze hot like a knife.
Turning back to him, I slowly, gently take his hands. They’re trembling, and it makes me ache for him.
He watches me closely as I lift one of his palms to my lips, kissing it sweetly. It’s followed by the other, and then I’m dragging his hands down my skin and over my breasts, squeezing his hands around them.
Knox’s breath hitches and my head nearly rolls back on my shoulders when his fingers twitch as he fights the urge to squeeze harder. I peer up at him. He’s so warm, eyes bright and drinking me in like a delight. I want to feel his hands everywhere. Right this second.
“They’re not shaking right now, Knox.”
As quick as lightning, Knox strikes, lunging forward and scooping me off my feet, kicking the door shut behind him.
I arch into his touch, the tightness of my sensitive nipples grazing across the soft fabric of his shirt. I moan into his mouth at the feeling and he swallows the noise desperately.
His room is small, and in two great strides he’s placing me on his bed and crawling up after me like a wolf stalking his prey.
I scoot backwards as he ascends over me, until I can’t anymore.
Knox follows me like a worshipper to his God.
His hands trail my claves to my thighs where they all but fall open for him. The fabric of my panties is wet and I shiver as the air of his room seeps into the fabric, shivering harder when Knox’s hot gaze drags down my body like a brush dipped in paint.
Like this, kneeling between my legs, he’s the one that looks like the perfect picture. Soon, I’ll have my own sketchbook filled with drawings of him just like this, strands of his black hair falling across his glowing eyes, his tongue poking out to wet his lips.
“My God, Princess. Where do I even start with you?” He asks, voice filled with disbelief.
I know his question is rhetoric, but I can’t help the whine that accompanies the answer slipping past my lips. “Anywhere you want.”
As if Knox can’t stand the distance any longer, his hips find mine. I can feel the length of his cock through his pants and I keen when he grinds into me, rubbing against my aching core.
His fingers find the buttons of his shirt. They’re not trembling now, not as he pins me with those hungry eyes, as if I might slip away if he takes them off of me for a single moment.
As if.
He’s torturing me with his slow pace, and it’s not fair that I’m the only one undressed here. I lean forward, taking over for him, my fingers frantic to touch the sliver of his chest that he’s too leisurely exposing.
Knox’s body is smooth, warm, and the ridges of muscle beneath my fingertips feel like puzzle pieces. I know exactly where he’s going to fit, pressed tightly against my body.
His shirt slides down his arms, showing me those impressive biceps. Tattoos of all kinds litter his skin and I’m interested in seeing the artwork he’s curated for his body for only a moment before he’s leaning over me and caging me between his elbows. I can’t help but stare as we hover in this limbo, like he’s suddenly realizing the same thing as me: that we’ve spent too much time arguing when all along we could have been doing this.
Knox dips down to capture my lips against his in a sweet kiss. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs against my mouth, following the words with his tongue.
“I’ve already forgiven you,” I whisper, delirious from the feeling of his mouth on my neck. Knox sucks lightly and my breath catches, my thighs quivering to wrap around his taut waist, but there are still too many clothes separating us. “But if you get inside me right now, I’ll forgive you again.”
Knox lifts his head and my heart flutters at the grin on his face. I hope I won’t always be so surprised to see his happiness, but I can count the number of times I’ve seen him genuinely smile on one hand, and he’s so handsome when he does.
Something blooms in my chest with it; the things I’ve learned about him, from him, this man who hasn’t let his hardships keep him from doing what he loves.
“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, Princess,” Knox says, and I almost whine when he pulls away from me, but he’s kissing his way down my body. I lift my head, watching as he brushes his lips over the tops of my breasts, taking his sweet fucking time. It’s frustrating in the best way, and when he looks up at me from below, with his jade eyes all wide like that, I almost shatter right there. But then he’s saying, “I have to taste this sweet little pussy first,” and my eyes roll back into my head as my body tries to arch into his.
Knox’s tongue circles my pert nipple in a tease before he’s sucking it into his mouth, grazing his teeth across it. His free hand takes my other breast, and the roughness of his palm combined with the flick of his tongue has me melting even further into his mattress.
My fingers find his bare shoulders and I dig my nails in, hissing when he rolls my nipple between his teeth. Fuck, I need his cock right the fuck now, my pussy is throbbing.
“Please!” Apparently, I’m not above begging, but I’m dying up here. My poor pussy has been neglected for so long but I will never admit it out loud. She’s well acquainted with my hand, but with all of this foreplay, she’s a weeping mess.
Finally, Knox’s fingers slip lower. Full body goosebumps break out across my flesh as his touch dances gently down my sides.
I almost come when he slides them into the waistband of my panties, but he’s teasing me again, snapping the elastic against my hips.
“Might have to keep you here all night, Princess, so I can study you with my tongue,” he says, leaning down to lick a stripe up the sensitive inside of my thigh. “My hands,” Knox continues, and his words are accentuated with a brush of his knuckles down the center of my core. The thin fabric of my panties does nothing to ease the feeling of his touch. I keen deeply, and somewhere in the haze of the storm that accompanies his touch, I don’t realize that he’s slipping from his pants and boxers, his thick, full length on display. “And my cock,” he finishes, rubbing himself against my completely soaked panties.
“Knox,” I mewl desperately, but I don’t have to wait any longer because he’s already prying my underwear down my legs and settling himself between them, admiring the glistening view.
I’m already fisting the sheets in my fingers and it’s an effort to lift my head and peer down at him, watching in anticipation as he finally, finally, lowers his head to my dripping pussy.
Fucking fuck, is Knox wicked with his tongue, sweeping a deep stroke up my slit. He groans and the sound reverberates against my clit and it’s all too much already. I figured he was going to be good with his hands, being an artist, but this…the gentle to harsh touches of his tongue against my pussy is otherworldly.
I gasp when he fucks his tongue into me, grinding my hips as I desperately chase the feeling. His hands are planted on my hips to prevent me from scooting up the bed, keeping me held tightly to his face for him to ravage.
It’s like he’s been starving for years and my pussy is the only thing that can satiate his hunger. He works his tongue, fucking me with vigor. He sucks greedily at my clit and I arch for him. One of his hands is warm across my abdomen, pushing me back into the mattress.
I’m delirious off of the feeling of him. My thighs clench tightly around his head as heat builds in my core, but it doesn’t seem to be slowing Knox down, not when he’s flicking his tongue so greedily. He must enjoy the desperate noises I’m releasing and the way I’m pulling his hair because his chest rumbles with pleasure when I come all over his face without warning.
Before I can even catch my breath, before I can blink the euphoric spots from my vision, one of his fingers plunges inside of me.
His knuckle brushes the bundle of nerves that light me up like a fucking Christmas tree and I can’t control the pleas of encouragement falling from my lips. He takes my praise with pride, working a second finger into me, curling and twisting them, thumb still teasing my clit.
As he works me right to the edge again, tipping me over into oblivion, I thank him. Knox is a giver, that’s for sure.
When I’m whimpering from overstimulation, Knox pulls away. He doesn’t go far, looking longingly at my pussy as if he’s already missing it. My orgasm coats his mouth when he looks up at me, glittering in the light. His thumb strokes a soothing pattern against my hip and I know that I wanted a reprieve from his devilish tongue, but when he’s looking up at me like this, my pussy flutters again with need.
“You all right up there, Princess?” Knox teases, crawling his way back up my body. He’s following the guidance of my fingers still twisted in his hair, slanting his mouth over mine, sharing the taste of me in a lazy kiss.
I hum into his mouth, blissed out from my orgasms. I peek my eyes open to peer up at him and I find him already watching me, admiring me with a soft curve to his mouth. It makes me preen a little. I’m excited to finally see this side of him, happy and calm. Wrapping my legs around his hips, we share a groan when his cock bumps into my soaking pussy, teasing us both.
“Condom,” I gasp, because I’ve been reduced to one-word sentences with the feeling of his cock against my core. He’s so big, and I would be going down on him if it weren’t for the way that I desperately need to feel him inside of me, right this fucking moment.
Knox reaches over me, pulling open the drawer of the small table next to the bed. He roots around for a moment and then he’s pushing back on his haunches and tearing open the condom wrapper, pulling it out.
“Let me,” I offer, and I didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to turn any darker, but they do when he passes it over.
My mouth waters at the sight, all perfectly pink and beading at the tip. He’s hot and heavy, silky like heaven. I can feel my wetness clinging to it from when I writhed against him.
With a wicked tease of my own, I give his cock a tug, reveling in the low groan that emits from the back of Knox’s throat.
“Princess,” he warns, and my thighs clench at the deepness of his tone.
I don’t wait for Knox to take charge. As soon as I finish rolling the condom over his dick, I guide him closer, ushering him through my slick folds as I stare up at him with big, innocent eyes .
“Fuck me, Knox,” I breathe. “I can’t wait another second.”
His lips meet mine in a bruising kiss and he slowly presses into me.
“Fucking fuck, Princess. You’re so tight for me.” Knox’s words are shaky against my mouth like he’s struggling to hold himself back from pressing into me all the way.
My only response is his name, a mewl on the breath that’s forced from my lungs with each inch he plunges into me.
I’m not all that sure he’s going to fit, but the words of encouragement he’s whispering in my ear have me relaxing, melting at the praise. The finger he slides between our bodies to play with my clit helps distract me from the way he’s stretching me out on his cock.
And then he hits that spot, nestling up against it when I make a noise he likes. I cry out, “Right there, Knox. You feel so good.” My fingers dig into the long lines of muscle down his back, trying to hold him closer, as if we’re not touching in every way possible already.
Our hips finally meet and I cry out in joy.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” He asks me, accentuating his words with a slow roll of his hips that makes us both groan and my nails grate against his skin. “When you were touching yourself on that side of the wall,” he pants, pulling out and fucking back into me slowly, watching my face for any signs of discomfort. “It’s all I could think about.”
My eyes fly open, gasping when he bottoms out again. “You could hear me?”
His hum is strained. “I hear everything you do over there,” he whispers against my mouth, and I shouldn’t be excited by that, but when I imagine the way that his cock stood at attention for me even then, a thrill runs through me. “ You’ll have to show me how you touched yourself someday, Princess.”
I moan loudly at the thought, gripping him tighter. I like the idea of Knox sitting in his chair, charcoal poised above his sketchpad as he watches me with those piercing eyes while I touch myself to the sight of him—like how he’s touching me right now, with tight, little circles against my clit.
“I heard you with that guy,” he continues, voice darkening with jealousy. His thrusts become harsher, deeper, and I cling to him for dear life as he fucks into me with fervor. “With that fucker from the coffee house. I bet you faked it with him, all that laughing and sighing. I’m going to find out if those noises were real or not.”
I shiver at his words, but Knox couldn’t be further from the truth.
“We didn’t fuck,” I pant, bucking my hips up to meet his. Knox makes a choked sound, canting his hips and I scream at the sudden change of angle. And then, because I know it will make him come undone, I say, “All of this is just for you, Knox.”
He’s fucking me into the bed with abandon. There’s a coiling deep in my bones that’s so hot I cry out with pleasure. His cock is filling me completely, hitting spots I could never wish to find with my own fingers or toys.
“I’m going to memorize everything about this perfect body of yours, Princess,” Knox groans, thrusting deeply. I can tell that he’s on the verge of his own orgasm with the way he’s picking up his pace, the way he’s sliding his hand between us again. He groans like a dying man when his fingers find my clit and I clench around him. “We’ve got all night. Let me see you come again, Princess. Come all over my cock. Oh, fuck, Princess. That’s it, Quinn, just like that. ”
My orgasm rocks through me like a tidal wave, stealing my breath away. I hold onto Knox like he’s my lifeline, trembling in the aftershocks. The white-hot pleasure coursing through my veins is incredible, and I wrench my eyes open at the sound of his shaky warning.
Knox follows me into serendipity. His mouth parts, harsh pants slipping past his lips as he comes. He kisses me and it’s messy, sharing breaths because we’re both so caught up in each other’s bliss. I hold onto him tightly, not wanting this night to end.
For the first time, I don’t care that it’s loud on this side of the wall.
Because I’m on it.