Tears pricked at my eyes. I grabbed my shirt from where he’d tossed it and held it against my chest, covering my breasts. “Can we just... skip that part for now?”
“Whatever you want.” He kissed me softly. “We do whatever you’re comfortable with.”
His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down my stomach. Each press of his lips left a wet spot on my skin, the stubble on his jaw scraping lightly against the soft flesh there. He hooked hisfingers in the waistband of my shorts, tugging them down just enough to expose the edge of my underwear.
“Can I take these off?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
He slid them down my legs, bunching the fabric around my ankles before pulling it free, taking my underwear with them in one motion. The cool air of the kitchen hit my bare skin, making my thighs prickle. Now I sat mostly naked on the counter, legs dangling, my pussy exposed to him. He stood back for a second, eyes locked on me, pupils blown wide, nearly black with want. I could see the pulse jumping in his neck, hear his breath coming rough and fast.
“I need to taste you,” he said, his voice wrecked, gravelly like he’d been holding it back too long. “Please, Lina. Let me taste you.”
Nervousness flickered through me. My body had been through a lot. Pregnancy stretching everything out, childbirth tearing me open down there. I didn’t know what I looked like anymore. The skin might be looser, the folds different, maybe stretched or scarred from the episiotomy. Didn’t know if things felt the same to him, if the taste or texture had shifted after all that.
“I don’t...” I hesitated, my cheeks flushing hot. “I don’t know if I’m the same. After the delivery. I might be different from before.”
Knox’s expression softened. He leaned in, pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, his lips warm and firm against the sensitive skin. Then he looked up at me, eyes steady.
“You’re beautiful,” he said firmly. “Every part of you. And I don’t care if things are different. I don’t care if your body has changed. You’re still you. You’re still my mate. And I’m going to worship every inch of you until you believe me.”
Then he dropped to his knees in front of me, the tile floor thudding under his weight. His hands gripped my thighs, fingers digging into the flesh just enough to spread them apart, positioning me right at the edge of the counter. My ass hung off slightly, and I felt the hard edge pressing into my lower back. Exposed like that, legs wide, pussy open to the air and his gaze… I felt vulnerable, completely at his mercy, the slight draft from the window brushing over my damp folds.
“Knox...”
“Trust me.”
Andfuck meif I didn’t.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, starting low near my knee, then another higher up, his breath hot against my skin. The third one landed so close to my pussy that his nose nudged the outer lips, and I whimpered, the sound echoing a bit in the quiet kitchen. I could smell myself now, my arousal thick in the kitchen’s air, mixing with his.
“Knox, please...”
“I’ve got you, baby.”
His mouth found my center, lips parting to cover my pussy fully. I cried out, the sudden wet heat of his tongue shocking through me, my hand flying to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands.He licked through my folds, slow and thorough, starting from the bottom, dragging up flat and wide to coat his tongue in my wetness. The texture of my lips dragged against his tongue, and he explored every crease, every ridge, like he was mapping it out.
His tongue circled my clit, teasing the hood back gently with the tip, never quite pressing hard enough to send sparks shooting up my spine. I could hear the slick sounds of his mouth working, wet smacks as he sucked lightly on the surrounding skin, tasting me. The postpartum changes made everything more sensitive down there, nerves raw, so each lap sent a jolt straight to my core.
“More,” I gasped, hips twitching forward. “Please, I need more.”
He obliged. His lips wrapped around my clit, sealing tight, and he sucked, pulling the nub into his mouth with steady pressure. His tongue flicked against it in quick, precise strokes that made my toes curl against the cabinet below. At the same time, two fingers pushed inside me, the stretch burning just a little at first. He curled them upward, knuckles brushing the front wall, finding that spot that made my vision blur with white spots. The pad of his fingers rubbed there, firm circles, while his mouth kept up the suction on my clit.
I fell back against the counter, elbows hitting the surface with a dull thunk, my back arching off the cold laminate. My hips rocked against his face, grinding my pussy into his mouth, smearing wetness across his chin and cheeks. He ate me with a desperation that bordered on worship, his nose buried in my hair, inhaling deep like he couldn’t get enough of my scent. His fingers pumped in and out, the squelch of my arousal loud in the room, mixing with my moans and his muffled groans. I couldfeel the calluses on his fingers scraping lightly inside me, the way my walls clenched around them.
“You taste so good,” he groaned against me, the vibration humming through my clit. His words came out muffled, lips brushing my folds as he spoke. “So fucking perfect. I could do this forever. I missed this. I missed you. Every fucking day, I missed you.”
His words pushed me closer to the edge, heat pooling low in my belly. His tongue was relentless now, lapping faster, dipping into my entrance between sucks to scoop more of my juices. His fingers fucked me steadily, twisting slightly on each thrust to hit that spot again, building the pressure until my thighs trembled.
“I’m close,” I panted, breath ragged, chest heaving. “Knox, I’m so close...”
He doubled his efforts, sucking harder on my clit, teeth grazing just enough to sting, while his fingers plunged faster, the heel of his hand grinding against my outer lips. My thighs clamped around his head, squeezing his ears, and I shattered, crying out his name as the orgasm ripped through me. It started deep inside, a tight coil snapping, waves of pleasure pulsing out. My pussy contracted around his fingers in hard spasms, wetness gushing onto his palm. So intense I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, just held on to his hair and let it consume me, body shaking on the counter.
He worked me through it, easing the suction to soft licks as the aftershocks faded, lapping up the fresh slickness until I twitched from overstimulation. Then he pressed soft kisses to my inner thighs, one on each side, his lips shiny with my cum.
When I finally came back to myself, chest still rising and falling hard, he was standing between my legs, hands stroking up and down my sides, thumbs tracing the curve of my hips. His sweatpants were tented obscenely, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric, and I could see the dark wet spot where his precum had soaked through, a bead of it seeping further.
“Couch,” I managed to say, voice hoarse. “Take me to the couch.”
