30. Knox
CHAPTER 30
KNOX
Q uinn falls into my bed with a breathy gasp that I eat up as I follow, prowling towards her.
She’s scrambling to the headboard but reaches forward, not letting our lips part from the searing kiss we share. Like she can’t get enough of me. Like we didn’t annoy the fuck out of each other months ago.
And fuck, the way my name rolls off her tongue, all needy and hot—it’s not filled with hatred anymore. Now, it’s a heady whine that makes my cock harder than stone. I might just crumble under her touch like a delicate piece of charcoal, and I’d let it happen, too, all to hear those pretty moans, taste those pretty lips, touch that pretty skin, soft as silk.
I want to be wrapped all around her, embedded in her skin like the chalky substance I hold so dearly. I want to ink her skin with my touch, with my come?—
Quinn’s nails graze down the length of my back when I settle my weight against her. A shiver drags down my spine as a fleeting thought flashes through my mind: one of her, naked and sitting on my cock, her fingers wrapped around my tattoo gun as she presses it against my skin, marking me as hers.
I’ll teach her how to hold it, and let her have free reign with it, because anything that she gives me, I want. I want her glares and her harrumphs, her curses and her arms crossed over her chest, her quips and her quivers.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to burst from that visual alone. If anything, I can’t wait to coat her virgin skin in my ink. There is so much canvas for me to work with, all smooth and perfect, practically begging for a tattoo or two.
But more than that, I want Quinn’s smiles, the laughter that sounds better than any song or sound I’ve ever heard. I want those lavish hazel eyes on me at all times, her hands on my skin, gently tracing my scars as if they will tear open at the seams. I want those drawings of me she’s been hiding, and I want to model for her. I want to be her muse. The very thing that she’s obsessed with and can never get enough of.
She’s already that for me.
I want to take away her fear, the anxious look she gets when she’s drawing. I can tell that she loves it with all of her heart and that she’s struggling. It’s something that I’ve been meaning to bring up, but haven’t found the time. The semester is almost over, and in a few weeks, the both of us will be in different states for the holidays. She deserves to know that she’s not alone, that I feel similarly with the apprenticeships that have gone nowhere.
I need to tell Quinn that I don’t think my dream of becoming a tattoo artist is feasible anymore. How I’ve stayed up many late nights, thinking over it all. Every interview. Every piece I’ve given since the accident. My hands shake too goddamn much to tattoo, but not to draw, something I’ve always loved doing, and still do. I can make a living off of it, I know this because of the exhibition. People enjoy my art. Quinn enjoys my art.
And I don’t think anything other than that matters to me anymore.
Quinn grinds her hips up into mine and I revel in the way that she takes what she wants, tells me what she needs without words, how her body rolls up into mine, demanding my attention.
I’ve been a fucking fool all this time. A goddamn fucking fool. I could’ve had her like this, milking my cock dry, making these sounds that threaten to tear down the walls. I could’ve had my hands all over her, because she seems to like the way that I’m touching her, even with how shaky and scarred they are.
Quinn makes me feel like they’re not. Like there’s not a single thing wrong with me. Like my hands aren’t a fucking mess most of the time. Like I’m not still riddled with nightmares of my accident. Like my father isn’t prowling around campus like a fucking bloodhound, trying to buy this building, reminding me that I’ll never be able to get away from him, no matter where I go or what I do.
I touch her everywhere I can, slipping beneath her t-shirt because the need to feel her is a fervent one that I can’t contain. I hum into Quinn’s mouth, her warm skin against mine. It burns across my scars but she feels too good to stop.
Slipping my fingers around her back, I unclasp her bra, parting my mouth from hers with a harsh breath. Quinn’s quick to turn her head away from me when I graze my teeth across her jaw, offering me more room to work. The ease in which she opens up for me makes my cock twitch and I groan as I rut against her.
I shove up the hem of her shirt and her bra under her chin. I could let her sit up and slip the garments away, but I’m too focused of the taste of her skin on my tongue, the sweet scent of her filling my lungs with each pull of air I take. She smells like summer, fresh linen swinging with the easy breeze. There’s a hint of fruit, like pineapples or kiwis.
She’s the perfect taste.
Reaching my intended destination, I mouth across her breasts, avoiding her pert nipples, just to tease her a little more. As much as I want to rush through this, I also want to draw it out, to make it last, because I’ve never been as happy as I’ve been with Quinn in my arms.
The way her fingers scrape against my scalp in frustration is amusing. I hide my smirk against her skin, enjoying the impatient whimper she releases when she tries to grind against me and I pull away completely.
“Knox.” She’s breathless, just like she’d be if my cock were in her mouth right now.
I pick a spot close enough to the rosy peak of her breast but far enough to torture her a few moments longer, sucking harshly to leave a mark. I hum and she squirms.
“Yes, Princess?” I ask, plastering on my most innocent face. My Quinnie sees right through it because she’s glaring at me, eyes narrowed, pupils wide.
Her chest heaves as she tries her best to catch her breath. I bet I’m making that difficult by the way each of my exhales breeze over the wet mark I just licked into her skin.
“Please,” she swallows harshly, begging. “Touch me.”
Something inside of me roars to accept her soft-spoken request, but I resist.
I have plans for my girl.
Instead, I lave my tongue over her pebbled nipple, reveling in the keen she releases as her head falls back onto the pillows .
My free hand works around the other, tweaking, pinching, twisting it in time with what I’m doing with my mouth, licking, nipping, sucking.
Quinn seems to be enjoying it, by the noises she makes, and I’m enjoying her enjoyment.
She’s fucking amazing.
I’ve not nearly had enough of my fill when Quinn begins getting restless again, hands planted on my shoulders as she tries to push me down her body.
Greedy little thing.
I suppose I can grant her this one demand.
“No,” she whines when I pull back, lifting myself back onto my knees so I can stare down at her like the beautiful piece of artwork that she is.
All mine.
“Take your shirt off, Princess.”
“Only if you do too,” she barters, and I nod, following her lead.
Those deep eyes, my new favorite color, drink in every inch of my body. She looks like a huntress, locked on her prey, pupils dilated, her tongue darting out to dampen those sweet, swollen lips. The intense look sends electricity zipping down my spine, right to my core.
I’m honored to be her next meal.
And I analyze her too, all curves, all woman. Every time she’s laid bare before me, the need to study her grows tenfold. I want to trace her skin, first with my eyes, then with my hands, and again with my mouth.
“Perfect,” I breathe, because I can’t help myself. I can’t stop it, these feelings rushing through my body, nor do I want to.
I swear I can feel the heat of her blush from all the way up here. There’s no need for her to be bashful about what I’ve just admitted, she’s beautiful and she needs to see that, or I’ll just have to make her.
Quinn takes my hand, tenderly drawing it up to her lips and placing a soft kiss against one of my scars. Goosebumps break out across my flesh.
“You’re the one that’s perfect, Knox.” Her eyes sparkle when she grins, and now it’s my turn to blush, heat racing up my neck to fill my cheeks. “My masterpiece.”
Fuck. I didn’t know that I could come from words alone, but if she keeps speaking like this, keeps kissing down the length of my scars, I might just come in my pants, and that would ruin our fun.
For only about twenty minutes, but still.
“Show me how you touched yourself that night I heard you through the wall,” I say, voice coming out rougher than I intend.
Quinn moans at my words and I think I might just come after all.
While I’m distracted by her parted lips and trying to keep my cock from exploding in my pants, Quinn surges up, hands latching around my neck as she pulls me into her. My hands fall to the bed to brace us, but she doesn’t seem bothered by the weight of my body on top of hers, especially when she hooks a leg around my waist and tries to flip us over.
My girl wants to be on top.
I can give her that.
My hands find her hips and I twist, maneuvering us so that Quinn’s sitting pretty on my cock. Unfortunately, it’s still trapped in my pants, and she has hers on as well, and the two layers of clothing between us are two too many.
Maybe I didn’t quite think this one through.
“I don’t think so,” Quinn teases, dragging her hands from my shoulders to the waistline of my jeans. My muscles coil beneath her touch, and I love the way she greedily drinks in the way I react to her. Her voice is low, a sultry tease. “I want what you promised me at the bar, Knox.”
My head falls into the softness of the pillows beneath me at her brazen demand. The tips of her nails dance across the skin above the waistline of my briefs and I squeeze the meat of her ass with a grunt of approval. “Fuck, Princess, you’re perfect.”
She’s stolen my signature smirk, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards and damn, does she look pretty like that.
Quinn doesn’t hesitate, deft fingers undoing the buttons of my jeans like she was made for it. She drags the zipper down next, paired with a light scrape of her nails brushing over my heavy cock through the fabric of my briefs.
The noise that comes out of me is guttural. But not embarrassing, because if there’s going to be anyone to hear these noises from me, make these noises spill from my mouth, I’m glad it’s Quinn.
She snaps the waistband of my briefs against my hips and it’s sharp. I startle, eyes narrowing as she stares down at me with those wide, faux innocent eyes.
That debauched smile gives her away, though.
I decide to forego teasing her back in case she decides to change her mind about riding me, and help her with her own buttons instead. I make much quicker work of it, helping her slide off of me so we can rid ourselves of the fabric barriers.
My cock bobs, springing from its confines, and Quinn’s gaze is laser focused on it, finally bare herself.
She’s watching me with an intensity that I feel all the way to my very core. I wonder if Quinn can feel it too, with the way she’s taking my cock in that soft hand of hers and leaning over to lap up the pearl of precum that’s glistening at my tip.
I bite back the hiss that threatens to slip as she works, licking and sucking my cock. I nearly bite through my lip at her wicked tongue. My fingers twitch to wrap her long, blonde hair around my fist and hold her steady, fuck my cock into her obedient little mouth like I so desperately want.
My fingers also itch for my charcoals. I want to remember this moment forever.
“So, so prefect,” I compliment, caressing her cheek when she pulls away, automatically moving into me like the six inches of space between us is too much. I feel it too, the consuming need to always have her near, to always be touching her in some way or another.
I draw her in, claiming her mouth with my own. It’s a slower kiss, and I pour all of the feelings bubbling up in my chest into her, willing her to understand what I’m feeling without having to outright say it. How much she means to me, how she’s already changed my life for the better.
Quinn waits patiently as I rifle around for a condom. She takes it before gently poking at my chest, signaling for me to lie down. I follow obediently, because watching her rip open the packet while she eye-fucks my cock has me on edge.
Rolling the rubber onto my length, she slowly climbs back on top of me. I guide her, hands on her hips, but let her grind herself down against me, the both of us sharing a pleasured moan as she plants her palms against my chest, propping herself up, hovering over my cock.
I’d prefer if we were chest to chest so I could wrap my arms around her, plant my feet into the bed, and fuck up into her with abandon, but I let Quinn carry on for now.
I’m unable to remove my hands from her waist as she gives me a rough tug before guiding my cock through her slit. She’s warm, wet, and all mine; I grunt at the feeling.
As she lines the head of my cock with her pussy, notching me into place, I hold my breath to try and calm my racing heart. Quinn’s presence makes it beat like a drum, all wild and brash. The gasp she sucks in as she begins gingerly lowering herself onto my throbbing cock is one I want to replay over and over forever.
Fuck, she’s tight as she descends onto my dick. I feel the way her walls hug me, squeezing with pleasure. My fingers dig harsher because it’s the only way to keep myself from bucking up into her.
“Oh my God, Knox,” she whines when she’s fully speared on my cock. Heat courses through my body like a lance and I force it away, letting Quinn take her time to adjust. I grit my teeth when she gives a swirl of her hips, her head falling back on her shoulders as she bobs softly.
She all but collapses against my chest, reaching forward to kiss me again. We can’t keep away from each other, drawn to the other like magnets.
I slide my hands up the expanse of her back, trailing across the dips and valleys of her body as I hold her closer to me, careful not to move my hips. Over the round of her ass, the curve of her spine, across her breasts, all the way up until I’m caressing her cheek, keeping her still as I slowly dip my tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply.
Kissing Quinn ignites a fire in my soul. It’s passionate, fervent, and full of all of the feelings I haven’t had the gall to admit to yet. The ones that cross the line into something I’m terrified of giving away, something that I haven’t experienced in a long time.
Love.
With my mouth against hers, I pour all of those emotions into her, hoping that the way her fingers curl into fists against my chest means that she understands exactly what I’m trying to convey.
Bucking my hips causes Quinn to make a noise that I greedily swallow. She lifts up, dragging herself off my cock and I can’t help but shudder at how slow she’s going with her exploratory little bounces.
One would think I’ve never fucked her before.
She arches fully into my body as she sinks down again and with a cry of pleasure, our lips finally part. Quinn trails kisses down my throat and across my collarbones as she makes her way to sit up again, trying a different angle that makes her breath hitch. The rush of cool she leaves against my skin makes my chest heave, hands trailing back to her hips like I’m the belt keeping her from falling off this ride.
She’s absolutely stunning in the soft light emitting from the lamp. Her golden hair is disheveled, hanging across her shoulders. Her hazel eyes don’t leave mine as she rises and falls again, but her lashes flutter with the movement. All of her creamy, soft skin is on display, dusty nipples, rosy lips, the apples of her cheeks filled with a healthy glow.
I brush a lazy circle against her clit with my knuckle and it really spurs my girl into action, kicking up into a pace that makes my balls tighten.
Her full breasts bounce with her movements and I reach out, getting a handful of one, dragging my thumb across her tightened nipple. She emits a keen, her hand coming up to cover mine, to knead against mine, showing me how she wants me to touch her.
I have no problem doing that.
Focusing my attention on her breasts, I pinch, twist, and tease her with my touch. It makes Quinn moan, makes her hips grind harder, her bounces becoming fast and messy instead of controlled and calculated. Always overthinking, my girl. I’m glad that I can fuck it out of her, have her complete putty beneath the hands I’ve spent so much of my life hating.
I find her hips again, not only to slow her down before I prematurely orgasm, but to help guide her. Quinn plants her hands on my forearms to steady herself, and I love the feeling of her nails digging into my skin.
Her head rolls back as she releases a pleasured mewl, shifting her hips as she searches for new angles. She’s moving more frantically now, a slight furrow to her brows as she tries to chase that feeling.
“That’s it, Princess. Take what you need,” I encourage, unable to look away. I’m desperate for her, for everything that she gives me. I cherish it. Her. “Take everything that you need.”
“I need you,” she breathes, just as delirious with arousal as I am. I can feel the warmth in my gut, the way that her tight pussy grips my cock, fucking down onto me as she chases her high.
Her nails drag down my chest, leaving long lines of red in their wake, puckered and raised. As I peer down at them, licking my lips, I wonder for the first time if I should get a tattoo with color, because these marks look pretty damn good.
Quinn’s request is all I need to hear for me to take over, holding her closer, tighter, and I plant my feet into the mattress and begin fucking up into her, faster and harsher, as deeply as I can go.
She feels too good, better than anything I’ve ever experienced. And the way that she clings to me, just as tightly as I am to her makes me proud, like she might love me just as much as I do her.
The cry she releases when I hit that spot inside of her is loud, drawn out as I plunge myself deeper, focusing my movements on that exact site. Her hands against my skin turn desperate, a scramble of pleasure that she’s nearing. Her eyes are squeezed shut just as tightly as her pussy is clamped around my cock, and I can feel myself hurtling towards my own orgasm.
“Mark me,” Quinn begs. And I do.
Rolling the both of us, she cries out but I’m already bending forward, marking her with my mouth, sucking bruises into her skin. I bite into the meat of her shoulder, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave an imprint of my teeth. Her fingers pull harshly at my hair as she moans, long and hard, but I don’t care. I’m on a mission and I will not be deterred.
I hook a hand under Quinn’s knee, pressing it higher to give myself a better angle. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and her hips are moving to meet my strokes thrust for thrust, only heightening our shared pleasure.
Quinn marks me back, her nails against my arms, my sides, my spine, adding to my quickly growing collection. Every time I press into her, I gain another pretty piece of artwork from a quickly crumbling Quinn, who I know is on the verge of orgasming because of the way she screams “Right there!” when my fingers find her clit, begging for my attention.
I circle the nub, darting down to kiss her roughly before she shuts those pretty eyes while she comes. I press my forehead against hers, sharing a breath, watching Quinn intently as my hips piston into her and my thumb strokes her over the edge of oblivion.
My arms tremble with my own impeding pleasure, holding myself above her, caging her in while I work her to the brink .
“Mark me,” she says again, desperately.
“What?” I pant back.
The words roll off of her tongue in an urgent cry. “A tattoo that reminds me of this,” she whimpers, and I almost buckle. “Of you. I—” Quinn’s words are silenced with the moan that drowns out the rest of her pleas. Her pussy tightens around mine, body shaking with her orgasm.
It hits me like a wave, her words, rattling in my head. She wants me to give her her first tattoo? Even with my fucked-beyond-belief hands, even though she knows how much they shake, how many times I’ve been rejected apprenticeships, she still wants me to be the one to ink her skin…
Fuck, if that doesn’t make me want to come with her.
Pulling out with a groan, I rip off the condom, fisting myself down my length as I come with a throaty groan, painting Quinn’s body in white streaks, dotting her perfect skin.
It has always been far from my favorite color, but I think it could become my most treasured if I get to keep seeing my come splattered across her body like this.
Collapsing next to her, I wrap an arm around her waist and drag her into me. I’ll get up and clean her off in a bit, but right now I just want to lie here and admire her, revel in the words spoken with the remnants of my ebbing euphoria.
Quinn’s touch is soft, nails scratching lightly up and down the arm I have draped across her body. Her eyes are closed and she has a soft smile on her face, a content one, one that I wouldn’t mind seeing every night for the rest of my life.
The noises we shared are ones that would have definitely had Quinn pounding on the plaster separating us at the beginning of the semester. Now, we’re on the same side of the wall, cuddled up tightly, sharing more than just words. I think about how moments ago she was a writhing heap under me, begging for my touch, my tattoos, and it all hits me so full on that the only thing I know how to do in this moment is to kiss her again, giving her all of me as the realization rears its head.
I love her.
I really fucking love her.