Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
The crash of his mouth on mine is so sudden it knocks the thought out of my head. I want to scream for just how good it is, for how much I want it even now, after everything, after every reason why this should never happen. My hands are in his hair. His hands are everywhere, in my hair, on my back, under my shirt, rough and greedy and sure of what they want.
He kicks the door shut so hard the house shudders. I barely even notice because his mouth is already on my neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark, and my body just melts into it. I want to devour him. I want to forget about Harper, about Ralston, about every last fucking thing that tells me this is wrong. He makes it easy. He makes it violent.
He tears my shirt over my head, the cotton catching for a second on my arms, and then it’s gone. I dig my nails into his back and his hands cup my breasts, squeezing like he wants to brand them with his fingerprints. He bends me backward, and I feel the cold, hard bite of the front door in my shoulder blades as he drops to his knees in front of me.
He makes light work of my shorts, jerking them down and tearing my panties off. Before I know it, he shoves his face between my legs and his tongue slides in right where I need it. I cry out, loud, needy, shameless, when his mouth closes over my clit and sucks hard, so hard I nearly black out. My hands are buried in his hair, tugging, probably hurting him, and he just growls into me, like it’s the only thing that matters.
Lightning flashes again and for a second the room is white. Knox’s face is right there, animal and hungry, his hands digging into my thighs and his mouth devouring me. I try to pull him up, desperate for his cock, desperate to taste him, but he just clamps me tighter and licks until I come, shaking, so hard my knees give out. He catches me, stands, and crushes my body to the wall, kissing me again, letting me taste my arousal on his lips.
I want him inside me, now, but he doesn’t give me the chance to ask. He turns me, shoves my face to the wall, and runs his hand down my bottom, squeezing with a pleased growl. His cock is already out, already so hard it scares me, and he pushes into me in one, brutal, perfect thrust. I gasp, my pussy desperately trying to adjust to his sheer size. His fingers find my mouth, shove between my lips, and I bite down, hard enough that he groans and mutters fuck, into my shoulder.
He fucks me with the kind of desperation that feels like hate, but I know it isn’t hate. It’s everything that’s never been said, every fight, every late night and early morning and death and heartbreak. He doesn’t say a single word, just pounds into me, his hand over my mouth, my cheek pressed to the wall, and I am so fucking alive I swear I might die of it.
The whole thing is fast and perfect. I come again, probably screaming, and Knox follows with a rough, bitten-off curse that sounds nothing like my name, but maybe it’s supposed to. He pulls out, and he’s shaking, sweat slick and beautiful, and he turns me to face him. His mouth finds mine again, his cock pressing against my belly, hot with my arousal. It’s already hardening again, and I gasp when he lifts me, my legs going around his waist.
“You didn’t think I was done, did you?”
My mouth opens, and then he fucks me again by the wall, making sure I come more than once, and by the time we’re done, we’re both panting, coated in sweat and blissfully naked. We sink to the floor, our breaths the only sound except for the rain now lightly tapping against the roof.
For a long time, we don’t speak. Our legs and arms tangle, the wood floor sticky under my back, but I can’t bring myself to move. For the first time since Harper left, the world feels slightly less jagged. I know it’s temporary, but I let myself float. Knox is the one who breaks the silence. “You’re not gonna tell me to leave?”
I snort, tired and hollowed out. “I should. You want me to?”
He grunts. “Not unless you want a fist through your drywall.”
I push at his chest but don’t actually want him gone. He’s heavy in a way that feels anchoring. “You’re such a child.”
“No, I’m a man who gets whatever the fuck he wants.”
“Dick.”
He pulls me down to the floor, my cheek pressing against his chest, and it feels so good I try to stop the tears that are burning under my eyelids from falling. We lie there until my foot falls asleep and I kick at him to move, but all he does is roll us in a different direction, his cock resting lazily against my stomach.