25. Knox
Knox
Sawyer makes a sound against my mouth that I feel in every single fiber of my being and I think, this is it. I’m completely undone. Her hands in my hair, those fucking lips. I’ll never ever be able to come back from this.
And I don’t intend to.
I’ve kissed her before. The whole drive over I reminded myself of that, like the memory could strengthen my armor, build up my wall. You’ve kissed her before and walked away. You survived it. Not just once, but many times. You know what this is.
I didn’t know shit.
All of those times could be explained away. Anger and whiskey. Grief so heavy it needed somewhere to land. Desperation and weakness from the world falling apart around us.
I barely survived walking away then.
And here in her bed that smells like strawberry shampoo, with her soft body beneath mine and her breathing unraveling against my ear, there’s nothing to blame it on…no crisis, no argument, no fear.
This is finally just us. No barriers left except the truth we’ve been running from our entire lives.
This is the one I won’t fucking survive.
But it doesn’t matter because she’s worth every single thing this is going to cost me. I’ve hit my breaking point and I’m done pretending otherwise.
“You want me to show you?” I let the question loose against her ear. “I’ll make sure you feel me for days.”
Giving her wrists a squeeze, an unspoken command to keep them above her head, I drag my hand down her cheek, caressing her soft neck, slowly wrapping my fingers around it and pressing gently.
“You were always going to end up here.” My grip tightens until she gasps so beautifully. “With me. Ready to be filled. By me.”
Her throat hums under my fingers. The sound goes straight to my cock.
I hold her gaze, opening myself for her…it’s all out there now. Everything I’ve kept locked down for years, every wall stripped bare, and I want her to see it. Her chest is heaving, lips parted, eyes glazed, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. She always has been.
“Knox.” It’s barely a whisper.
Fuck.
She’s saying my name. Only my name.
I release her neck and hook my fingers in the band of her underwear, yanking them down her legs. She spreads for me, moaning little sounds, so desperate and needy.
“Say it again,” I murmur against her mouth, hovering my palm right over her cunt. “Say my name.”
“Knox.”
I swallow his name off her lips as I cup her cunt, sinking the palm of my hand against her hot flesh. Her back arches into my touch. She wants more.
“Say it again.”
I grind my palm against her clit, sliding the tips of my index and middle finger into her entrance. Jesus Christ, she’s soaking wet for me. I’m losing my mind.
“Please, Knox.”
It’s music to my ears. I push inside her and swallow her cry with my mouth.
She clenches around me immediately, tight and perfect, and I have to close my eyes for a second just to hold myself together.
Years. I’ve waited years to have her like this and I refuse to rush it, no matter how badly every nerve in my body is screaming otherwise.
“Keep saying it.” I curl my fingers and feel her whole body seize. “I want to hear you say it until you can’t remember any other word.”
She moans, hips rolling, chasing my hand, and something dark and possessive rises up in my chest that I refuse to push down anymore. This body is mine. This cunt is mine. Sawyer is mine. Every sound she makes, every arch of her back, every desperate little whimper—fucking mine.
I’ve been so goddamn patient. But no more.
She repeats my name like a prayer, crying out as I grind against her clit.
I watch her unravel, completely ruthless about it, memorizing every reaction, learning exactly what makes her gasp versus moan versus dig her nails into the pillow above her head.
I want it all mapped out. My body. My Sawyer.
I’ll know every part of her better than she does.
“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please—”
“You think I’d stop?” I press my thumb against her clit and feel her whole body shudder. “I’ve waited years for this, Sawyer. I’m not stopping until you’ve come on my hand and begged me for more.”
“Knox…Oh God!”
“There it is.” I curl my fingers again. “Come for me.”
She shatters, my name on her lips, her thighs clamping around my wrist, her whole body shaking. I work her through every wave, completely merciless, until she’s trembling and spent and gasping for air.
Then I pull my hand away and slip my fingers into my mouth. Fucking hell, she tastes amazing.
She watches me with hooded eyes. “What are you—”
“Even better than I remembered.” I hold her gaze. “And I thought about your taste every damn day.”
“Oh fuck,” she says, starting to clamber up on her elbows. I don’t give her time to. I’m nowhere near done.
“I’ll taste your delicious cunt later. Right now, I’m taking what’s mine.”
I pull my undershirt over my head and toss it somewhere behind me. Her eyes track down my chest, my stomach. Looking at me like she’s been waiting for this too. It makes something possessive and unhinged claw its way up my throat.
Her fingers find my waistband before I can.
I brace above her and watch her face while she pushes my sweats and boxers down in one movement, her knuckles grazing my hip bones. I have to clench my jaw just to hold it together. When she’s done, I kick them off the rest of the way and settle back over her.
She lays back, taking me in, and I give myself a second to breathe because fuck.
I’ve imagined this so many times, in so many ways, in more detail than is probably healthy.
But nothing I conjured in my own head comes close to the reality of her beneath me, hair wrecked against the pillow, chest still heaving, lips swollen, eyes heavy and dark and fixed on me like I’m the only person in existence.
I lower myself over her, forearm braced beside her head, and drag my nose along her cheekbone. She shivers and I feel it down to my toes.
“You still with me?” I murmur against her temple.
“Yes.” She glides her hands along my chest, across my ribcage, around my hips, exploring the same way I did. I ignore the soreness in my ribs, the ache in my back. None of it matters.
Her hands move wherever they want while I stay completely still above her. I love the feel of them all over me. Every single one of my muscles is coiled tight with the effort of not rushing this. But fuck, my cock is leaking all over her.
Her hands finally come around my back, grabbing my ass and pulling me closer, and she arches into me so my cock nudges her entrance.
My control snaps.
I reach down and grip her thigh, hiking it up around my hip, opening her wider.
She gasps from the sudden shift, a sound so perfect it takes everything in me to not ram into her that second.
Reaching between us, I line myself up, dragging the head of my cock through her slick heat just to feel her squirm.
She bites down on her lip so hard I’m surprised she doesn’t draw blood.
“Please. Knox.”
So desperate. I fucking love it.
“Look at me. Don’t close your eyes. I want you to know exactly who’s inside you.”
I hold her gaze and push inside her slowly, inch by inch, watching every flicker of feeling cross her face. Her lips part, her eyes roll back, and when I bottom out, she moans my name again.
And that…hearing my name, while my cock is buried inside her, does me in.
I start moving my hips, thrusting in and out. She’s so fucking tight. So perfect. I have to concentrate so I don’t come already. I drop my forehead to hers, breathing hard, trying to find some kind of rhythm that doesn’t destroy me immediately. It’s a losing battle. She feels too good.
“You feel that?” I thrust deep and hold. “You were made for this.” My lips drag along her jaw. “Made for me.”
“Yes—”
I lose my hold on her thigh, and she wraps her legs around my waist, changing the angle. And holy fuck. We both groan at the same time. I bury my face in her neck and let myself lose control, jutting my hips harder and faster, and she takes it. Takes all of it.
Her nails drag down my back and it stings so fucking good.
“More,” she breathes. “Knox, please—”
“Fuck. Sawyer. Fuck, you feel so good.”
I grip the headboard above her with one hand, the other sliding beneath her lower back, tilting her hips up, so I can hit her deeper.
“Oh God,” she cries out.
I pound into her, lost in fucking bliss, while she wrecks my back and bites my shoulder hard enough to draw blood.
“Jesus Christ, Sawyer. Come on, baby. Give me another one. Squeeze my cock with that tight cunt.”
“Knox…I can’t,” she groans, biting into me again. “Oh fuck. I’m going to—”
“I can feel you. So goddamn tight.” I thrust harder, chasing it with her. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
I reach between us, pressing my thumb to her clit, and her legs tighten around me, her cunt clenching me so tight my vision whites out at the edges. She cries out into my shoulder, muffling the sound against my skin, shaking apart in my arms while I work her through every wave.
Fuck, I’m going to come.
“Baby, I need to pull out.”
She tightens her legs around me, rolling her hips, her cunt still convulsing around my cock. “IUD,” she breathes. “Come in me. I want it…all of it.”
“Oh fuck.”
I bury myself to the hilt and shatter, my forehead dropping to hers, one hand fisted in her hair, holding on like she’s the only solid thing left in the universe.
Because she is, and she always has been.
I come in long, deep pulses, my whole body shuddering and every muscle seizing at once while I pour into her and lose any chance of forming a coherent thought.
“You’re everything.” I breathe out, ragged. “Every single thing I’ve ever wanted, Sawyer. My whole goddamn life.”
She presses kisses to my jaw, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, pulling me closer. I don’t need her to respond. I feel it. I know it to be true.
We stay tangled together while the trembling slows, both breathing hard.
Eventually the world comes back. The hum of the dishwasher. The dark of her room. Her fingers running up and down my spine.
I don’t move. I can’t.
I’m not ready to let her go yet.
Not that I’ll ever be.