The ride to the club feels endless and too short at once.
Every rev of the engine vibrates through me, settling low in my gut, and I'm already half-hard just from being pressed against him. My arms are wrapped tight around his waist, my chest sealed to his back, and I can feel every breath he takes. Every shift of muscle as he navigates through traffic.
I keep thinking about last night. His weight on top of me. His mouth on my skin. The way he looked at me like I was something precious and edible andhis. The way I was so close, so fucking close, and then his phone rang and —
Tonight. Tonight there will be no interruptions.
The club is quieter than I expected. A few people at the bar, soft music from the jukebox, the low murmur of conversation. But everyone looks up when we walk in. Everyone notices Knox's hand on my lower back, possessive and sure.
Jason practically bounces over, face lighting up. "Toby! Did you eat? We have leftover — "
"No." Knox cuts him off, steering me toward a door marked PRIVATE. "We're going upstairs."
The words hang heavy with intent.Upstairs.Where Knox lives. Where he sleeps. Where he's going to —
I can't finish the thought or I'll combust right here in the middle of the bar.
Everyone carefully doesn't react, but I catch Jason mouthingfinallyto Vaughn. Ezra raises his glass in what might be a toast. Silas just shakes his head and goes back to wiping down the bar.
"Upstairs?" My voice cracks embarrassingly.
"My apartment." Knox's breath is hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "The whole pack lives up here. Easier that way." His hand slides lower, just grazing the curve of my ass. "Unless you'd rather have an audience?"
The thought of — god, no. But also the idea of Knox claiming me where everyone could see, where everyone wouldknow— it makes something hot and shameful curl in my stomach. I shiver before I can stop myself.
He notices. Of course he notices.
"Interesting," he murmurs. "But not tonight. Tonight you're just for me."
He guides me through the door and up narrow stairs, worn smooth from years of use. My heart is trying to beat out of my chest. My legs feel like jelly. My whole body is vibrating with anticipation and nerves and desperate, desperate want.
Another door. His hand on the knob. A pause that feels weighted with significance.
Then we're inside, and I barely get a glimpse of the apartment — minimal furniture, clean lines, a kitchen that looks rarely used, dominated by a massive bed with dark sheets — before he's spinning me around and pressing me against the closed door.
"All day," he growls, caging me in with his arms. "All fucking day, thinking about you. Couldn't focus on anything else. Had to throw Jason across the garage when he mentioned how your ass looks in those jeans."
"He — what?"
"Everyone wants you." His face is inches from mine, eyes burning gold. "The cute librarian who takes care of everyone, reads to kids, wears ridiculous cardigans. They all want to protect you. Claim you."
My breath catches. "But?"
"But you'remine." He leans in, lips barely brushing my ear. "Aren't you?"
"Knox — "
"Answer me." His hand wraps lightly around my throat — not squeezing, just holding, just reminding me who's in control. "Are you mine, Toby?"
"Yes." It comes out as a whimper, high and desperate. "Yes, yours, please — "
He kisses me like he's trying to crawl inside me.
One hand still on my throat, the other fisting in my hair, tilting my head exactly where he wants it. His tongue slides against mine, claiming, possessing, and I melt into him. Go boneless against the door and let him hold me up.
"Fuck, you're perfect." He breaks the kiss to attack my neck, shoving the turtleneck out of his way, sucking hard overyesterday's marks. Refreshing them. Making them darker. "So desperate for it. Bet you've been thinking about this all day too."
"Yes — "
