Holy cow. He’s considering it. “W-what does that mean?”
“It means I’m fucking crazy,” he mutters, crowding in closer between my thighs, my pulse spilling sideways when the proof of his hunger prods the seam of my jeans. It’s so thick. Steely. So much more abundant than I expected. “Let’s see if you can kiss.”
“I’ve never done that, either,” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he grits out, closing his eyes. But just as quickly, he gathers himself, those features hardening. “Do your best to keep up.”
I nod, my heart knocking against my ribcage. “Do you want me to put my shirt on, so you don’t have to look at my pathetic breasts?”
Double take. “What the hell are you talking about? Your tits are fucking perfect.”
I gasp with relief, a smile making my lips jump. I’m so thrilled with his compliment that I set my switchblade down on the desk. “Really?”
His expression is inscrutable. “Stop talking.”
“Okay.”
I’m yanked roughly by my knees to the very edge of the desk…and I can’t help it, I look down at the bulging ridge in his jeans, wondering how in tarnation his zipper is remaining closed under that kind of assault. He reminds me of the bull on our ranch. Enormous, surly. Packing.
His face dips to the curve of my neck and he inhales deeply, like he’s memorizing my scent. “Having second thoughts, little girl? It’s not a good size for beginners.”
What is this melting sensation in my middle? “I’ll do what I have to do.” I say, haltingly, my head tilting right so his mouth can skate up and down my neck.
Wow. Wow, that feels very nice.
Too nice?
I don’t have a chance to wonder for long, because his mouth slides over mine with a grunt of possession, pulling on me hard. And deep. His chest brushes my stiff nipples ever so slightly, and I whimper, my parted lips allowing his tongue to sweep in and claim me.
Claim me.
That’s what Knox does.
There’s no teaching period.
He starts me on expert level, his body pushing in tight to mine, his mouth above me, his hand fisting my hair to tilt me at the right angle while he punishes and fucks my mouth. There’s no catching my breath and there’s no mercy. He winds his tongue deep in my mouth, groaning when I mimic him, my hands having no choice but to hold on to the front of his shirt for dear life. And oh goodness, moisture seems to trickle and gushinto my panties and I…it occurs to me why. To slicken his path. The path of his shaft.
The human body is amazing.
Myhuman body feels amazing the more he feasts on my mouth from above, like a starving man trying eat his way down a stack of fresh pancakes, tearing into me with desperate sounds in his throat, and the craziest thing is, I can sense how lonely he’s been. I can feel the pain and horror he’s been carrying. It’s all part of the revealing kiss.
It rocks me back on my proverbial heels.
All the hurt he gives me. All the need.
I respond with lust, yes, but also my heart, pulling him closer and stroking his sideburns, ticking my thighs open another couple of inches, so we can meld together more securely and he comes like a dying man, raking his gasping mouth up the side of my neck, rolling his face there, his hands shaking where they drag up and down my bare back.
All at once, he stops.
Must realize he’s let himself enjoy me too much.
At least, that’s what it feels like.
He’s mad at himself for letting go. For needing.
“Get out,” he says, hoarsely, against my ear.
I’m still dizzy from his kiss. His touch, such a mixture of tenderness and violence. Who knew I could gravitate to a stranger’s warmth? Suddenly I swear I could die without it.
