The meaning behind what he’s saying sinks in. My stomach twists. “Forever…as in here?”
“As in mine.” He squeezes my face, sealing his ownership over me. “But there’s something wrong with this picture. SomethingI’mdoing wrong. What is that?”
Think, Skylar. Think. This is crucial. It might save your life. It might make him want you.
I don’t know what happens when Knox is disappointed, and I don’t want to find out.
As I rummage through my head, silence stretches, heavy as the lump in my throat.
A few more minutes pass, and then it clicks.
“Curing. It comesbeforethe oiling.” My lips are dry, and I dart my tongue out to wet them. “You’re doing it backward.”
His gaze drops to my mouth, then fixes on my eyes again. A flicker of pride and hunger turns his eyes into two glowing embers.
At his silent approval, my chest aches with want.
Feels so good. So right.
“Exactly.” He leans in, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth, then releases me. “That’s what I wanted you to see. Doesn’t matter if I broke the order. What matters is why. I did it for you.”
He isn’t insane. It’s deeper than that. His family’s legacy is ingrained in him, their rituals etched into his bones.
But he’s done with them.
He’s breaking all the rules for me.
And me, I’ve changed too. I’m no longer the pre-med student Skylar. Not the girl from New York. That version of me doesn’t exist here. He’s pulled me under, into his world, and I’ve let him.
“You bent the rules because you want me.” My voice trembles.
Understanding him feels like picking a lock to a door I’ll never be able to close again. A door I want to leave open for the rest of my life.
“I’ll break all of them for you.” His thumb drags over my jaw, rubbing oil into me. “Like I did now. I oiled you first because I couldn’t leave you on the hook without a shirt covering you. Without something protecting what’s mine.”
He kisses the corner of my lips, then moves toward the table, the one directly in my line of sight.
Even exhausted, I can’t help but watch him in awe. This is his domain, and he navigates through it with effortless ease.
He stops in front of the table, where two large jars are waiting. One holds a clear liquid. The other looks like some kind of puree.
Food. Water.
Yes.
Knox returns, lifting the clear jar in his grip for me to see.
“Got it from town last week. Drink.” Not a request. He shoves the straw between my lips. “It’s good for you.”
The cool liquid hits my tongue, and I moan at how good the coconut water tastes. How much I needed it.
As I suck on the straw eagerly, Knox’s lips pinch. His chest rises and falls. Each breath is controlled.
He’s working hard to stay still while he studies me, though I can tell his restraint is slipping. His teeth grind so hard that it’s audible.
I watch him, mesmerized, and keep sipping, sipping, sipping.
Until he snatches the water from me.
