“For you,” I repeat, trembling, becauseoh goodness, he’s teasing his spot now that feels extra incredible. Teasing and playing with it, causing something unknown to pinwheel sharply, beautifully below my navel.
“Yeah. For me. So I can do this.” I am not expecting his middle finger to slide inside me. But that’s what it does. The whole blunt digit fills me between the legs and I gasp, his mouth swallowing the sound. Roughly.
There’s a wet squish sound in the room and I realize it’s me.
His fingers drawing in and out of my channel, seemingly getting deeper with every push, his mouth growing hungrier on mine. Or is it mine growing hungrier on his? What is happening to my body? The longer he presses that long finger in and out of me, the hotter I flame. The more pliant my body becomes between his and the door, my mouth opening shamelessly wide for his tongue, mewls sounding in my throat.
“Look at me when I put this second finger in,” he says, his tone raw.
I struggle to focus on anything but the drugging power of his kiss and that continual fullness inside of me, the way he grindsthe heel of his hand on my mound in just the right spot, a spot that must correspond to a live wire inside of me, because it’s snapping and sparking and…preparing to blow?
“Look at you…?” I hiccup, repeating the directive. Lifting my chin to do what I’m told, finding dark green eyes glittering down at me.Lust.“O-okay. Okay. Okay.”
I cry out when he twists in a second finger and something gives way inside of me.
He moans against my forehead and grinds that duo of digits deep. Deep. Deep.
Lifting me onto my toes.
“Put that virginity in Daddy’s hands, little girl. I’ll keep it safe.”
And there’s too much pleasure to be pain.
The pleasure is atorrent.
His hard mouth plasters to mine once more and guides me through it, making love to me with his fingers while a storm seems to rain down inside of me, soaking his hand in waves, tiny undiscovered muscles pulling tight like bow strings and releasing tension in a rush that blinds me. It’s enormous. The feeling isenormous. It saws me in half.
My knees give out.
Knox catches me in his arms, sandwiching me between his embrace and the door. My heart and pulse seem to race in different patterns for several minutes, my breath releasing in shallow pants against his chest. Knox is breathing hard, too, and I can feel the turgid length of him against my belly, but he makes no move to bring me to the bedroom, like he originally demanded. Truthfully, I’d let him at this point. All of that embarrassment and irritation have left me, along with about a thousand brain cells.
When I’m able to stand on my own, Knox leaves me leaning against the door, collects my boots and hat, bringing them to me.I watch through a haze as he slips my boots back onto my feet. Stands up and perches my hat on my head, a noticeable lump lodged in his throat, just beneath his chin.
“Come back tomorrow,” he says gruffly, taking one last sweeping glance of my body with lustful eyes. “I might try and be less of a prick, if you’re lucky.”
His invitation to leave catches me off guard.
Leave…now?
After that?
But I guess I have no choice, because what am I going to do? Beg him to let me stay?
“Fine,” I whisper, opening the door and slipping out, wondering how I can go from feeling so wildly fulfilled to having a five-inch diameter hole in my chest.
That hole seals right up when I spy Knox through the front window of the house.
He’s standing in front of the refrigerator. Staring.
After a few seconds, he takes a fork out of the drawer adjacent to the fridge, opens the door and takes a forkful of pie, bringing it to his mouth.
Chewing hesitantly, then faster.
I ride back down the mountain, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
six
Knox
