“Skyla?” Knox whispers as his thumbs brush against my temples. “Talk to me.”
I reach up, fingertips brushing his jaw.His stubble scratches my skin, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, like my touch undoes him. I feel his cock twitch inside me, sending a jolt of pain up my spine. But I don’t react to it.
My body is too slow. Too doped up.
“I’m scared,” I finally whisper, unable to stop the rush of emotions consuming me.
“I know,” Knox says. He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead. “But I’ll go slow.” He looks deep into my eyes. “I’ll be gentle, sweetheart.”
And then he purrs.
The sound is heaven to my ears.
It vibrates everywhere, soaking into my tight muscles and slipping into my bones.
Tears blur my vision as the vibrations soothe me. Then I nod, and my hips tilt just a little, an invitation.
Knox exhales slowly. It’s shaky but full of relief, then he moves—not deeper, not harder—just closer. Presses his forehead to mine. Our breath mingles.
I close my eyes, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself relax as Knox’s purr doubles, growing louder against my skin. I urge him closer with a soft shift of my hips and the lift of my chest meeting his.
He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t surge forward like he’s been waiting to take. He just…moves.
Slow, careful, like he’s trying to memorize every part of me from the inside out.
His body glides against mine in steady, tender strokes, and I feeleverything. Every inch. Every pause. Every inhale he takes feels like he’s holding himself together by a thread. He stays close, pressed to me, our skin damp with sweat, our breaths tangled, his hands braced on either side of my face, holding the world still.
It’s not rough. It’s not frenzied. It’s not what I’m used to.
It’s quiet.
And somehow, that’s what undoes me.
A tear slips from the corner of my eye, sliding into my hair. Then another.
They fall without warning. Just...a release as I’m filled over and over again.
I need more.
Reaching up, I curl my arms around his shoulders, holding him to me.
My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him deeper, but not harder. I don’t want harder. I want this…I don’t know what to call it. This aching sweetness. This tenderness that fills me in more ways than one.
Knox’s body moves with mine, his cock filling and stretching every wonderful part of me. His lips skim my temple, and he whispers, “Open up for me, pretty girl.” Then he shifts above me, his breath warm against my cheek, and I feel his hand sliding down—slow, deliberate. He curls his fingers around the back of my thigh and lifts, guiding my leg up, up, until my knee presses gently to the side of my shoulder. The stretch makes me gasp, not from pain—but surprise. Vulnerability.
And then?—
The angle shifts. He sinks in deeper, the drag of him pressing against something raw and aching inside me in the best possible way.
I suck in a breath, eyes flying open, and he groans softly like he feels it too.
“You like that?” One corner of his mouth lifts, obviously liking the look on my face.
I nod, breathless. “Yuh... yeah.”
It’s more than okay. It’s everything.
The heat inside me coils tighter, but it’s not frantic. It’s slow-burning, alive.
