Page 108 of Knocked Up By the Silver Foxes

I don’t close my lips. I don’t.

But I want to.

I want to hollow my cheeks and take him all the way. I want to show Killian how much I missed him, how much I forgive him, how much I need him.

But I can’t.

So I stay open. Wet. Panting. Trembling.

Killian’s neck is corded. His hands flex. His head falls back against the couch with a groan. “Fuck. Harper. I’m gonna⁠—”

Then Asher’s voice—low, calm—cuts through the haze.

“Now, mon coeur.”

I close my lips.

Suck.

Hard.

Killian shatters—hips jerking forward, cock plunging deep as I take him to the root, throat working, tears streaming.

“FUCK!” he roars, fingers tightening in my hair. “Oh god—yes—take it—take all of it⁠—”

Maddox growls behind me, grips my hair tighter, pulls me back so I’m arched against him, my mouth ripped from Killian’s cock as he slams into me one last time—deep, brutal—and comes with a curse, his other hand coming around to rub my clit in tight, frantic circles until I’m screaming again, clenching around him, coming so hard I see stars.

He kisses me—deep, filthy, claiming—then pulls out, letting me collapse just as Killian’s hands find me and I end up on my back.

Braced over me as he knees my legs a part, he strokes my hair. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Even when I’m an idiot. Even when I don’t say it. I love you.”

I smile through my haze, lifting my hands to his broad shoulders as he hitches my legs over his arms.

Killian braces above me, wild-eyed, mouth swollen from my biting kisses. He thrusts, deep and hard, hitting that spot inside me that sends sparks from my toes to my scalp. I’m split open on him, filled to the brim, and it’s not just physical anymore. It’s deeper than that. He’s pushing past muscle and bone, past skin and breath, into something raw and unguarded neither of us dared touch before.

“Look at me,” he growls, slamming home again, making me sob. His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing the tears streaking my temples. “Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

I can’t. His gaze is a lighthouse in a hurricane. Everything else falls away—the couch beneath us, the sounds of Asher and Maddox moving around us, the crackle of the fire, the whole damn world. It’s just Killian. Just this. His sweat dripping onto my collarbone. His hips pistoning between my thighs, driving him deeper, harder, like he’s trying to fuse us together.

“You feel that?” His voice shreds on the words. “That’s me, Harper. That’s all me. And it’s yours.”

I nod, frantic, nails digging into the corded muscles of his back. I score him, drag red lines down his skin, marking him as he’s marking me from the inside out. He hisses, lowers his mouth to my shoulder, bites. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to brand. Hard enough to claim.

“Again,” he grinds out. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to arch my throat, to expose me for his lips. He licks a hot stripe from my pulse to my jaw. “Come for me again, princess. I know you can.”

And I do. My body clamps around him, clenching tight, and a raw scream tears from my throat as the orgasm crashes through me, wave after wave, until I’m shaking, floating, gone. He keeps moving, no mercy, chasing his own release, driving me right back to the edge before I’ve even come down.

The second time, I’m sobbing, begging, and he’s breathing ragged promises into my mouth between deep, consuming kisses. “That’s it, baby. Give it to me. All of it. I’ve got you.”

He shifts, hitches my legs higher over his shoulders, and sinks so deep I gasp. The angle changes, hits something new, something perfect, and my eyes roll back. My hands fist in his hair, pulling him down to kiss me, to lick into my mouth like he’s trying to taste my soul.

“You’re mine,” he rasps against my lips. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I pant. “Yours, Killian. Always.”

He groans, a sound torn from the center of him, and his rhythm falters, becomes erratic, brutal. “One more. Give me one more.”

I don’t think I can. My body is spent, trembling, overstimulated. But then his hand slips between us, thumb circling my clit, and I shatter all over again, my back bowing off the couch as I come with a broken cry, my core milking him. He shouts my name, hips jerking, and I feel him pulse inside me, hot and endless, flooding me with his release. He collapses, catching his weight on his forearms, his forehead pressed to mine as we both gasp for air.