His fingers slide through my wetness and I gasp. "Fuck, Sloane. Soaked. Already dripping for me."
"Your fault," I manage.
"Yeah?" Wicked in the dim light. "Good."
He drops to his knees.
My hands fly to his shoulders. "Knox, we don't have time—"
"Then you better come fast." He yanks my panties down in one swift motion.
I barely step out of them before his mouth is on me. The sound I make is too loud. Way too loud. His hand clamps over my mouth instantly, muffling the cry as his tongue drags over my clit, thorough and unhurried.
"Quiet," he growls against me, the vibration shooting straight through my core. "Unless you want everyone out there to know what I'm doing to you."
My fingers dig into his hair, hips rocking helplessly. He works me with devastating precision: tongue circling, sucking, two fingers sliding inside and curling just right. Every nerve lights up, pleasure coiling tight and fast. I bite down on his palm to keep from screaming.
He groans against my clit. "That's it, sweetheart. Bite me. Mark me up. I want to feel your teeth tomorrow."
My teeth sink deeper as his tongue flicks faster, fingers pumping harder, dragging me right to the edge.
"Come," he demands, muffled and commanding. "Right fucking now. I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue."
I shatter. The orgasm rips through me so hard my knees buckle. He holds me up with one arm banded around my hips, mouth still working me through every aftershock until I'm shaking, boneless, and wrecked. He eases back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and satisfied.
"Good girl," he murmurs, standing and kissing me. I taste myself on his tongue.
"Your turn," I gasp, reaching for his belt.
"No time." He catches my wrist, grinning. "We've been gone too long. They're gonna know."
"Knox—"
A knock makes us both freeze. "Yo, Vice?" East's voice, amused and knowing. "Supply closet's occupied, huh?"
My face flames. Knox's grin turns feral.
"Give us a minute," he calls back, not trying to sound innocent.
East laughs. "Yeah, take your time. Ruby owes me twenty bucks." Footsteps retreat.
I bury my face in Knox's chest, mortified. "They know."
"They absolutely know," he agrees, sounding way too pleased.
"This is your fault."
"My fault?" Eyebrows raised. "You're the one who wore that skirt."
I shove at his chest, but I'm smiling. "You're impossible."
"And you love it." He kisses me again, softer, hands gentle on my face. "Fix your hair. I'll go first. Wait thirty seconds."
"Very smooth."
"I try."
He tucks a strand behind my ear, thumb brushing my cheek. His eyes go soft for just a second. An unguarded flicker crosses his face before he locks it down. He unlocks the door, checks the hall, slips out with a backward glance that promises this isn't over.
