Page 40 of Knocked Up By the Silver Foxes

“Wait,” she says, slightly breathless, one hand still on my shoulder. “I didn’t say goodbye to⁠—”

“They’ll meet us upstairs,” I say.

She goes still in my arms.

I look down at her.

She looks up at me and I watch her understand what I’m saying, the full shape of it, and something moves through her face. Not hesitation. Not alarm. More like the expression of a woman who has been waiting for the other shoe to drop and has just realized it isn’t dropping, that this is actually what it is, and she can either fight it or stop fighting it.

Her hand, still on my shoulder, relaxes.

“Soon?” she asks.

“Soon,” I say.

The elevator doors open.

I carry her in.

15

HARPER

The air tastes like salt and him—Killian, all over me, in my mouth, in my lungs, in the space between my ribs where my heart used to beat steady. Now it’s just chaos, just pounding blood and heat, just the press of his body lifting me off the ground like I weigh nothing. The door clicks shut behind us, sealing us in, and then his hands are under my dress, palms skimming up my thighs, rough and sure, like he’s been waiting to touch me like this for years.

I wrap my legs around him without thinking, my heels digging into the small of his back, the thin fabric of my dress bunched at my waist. His mouth is on my neck, then my collarbone, then my mouth again, hungry, relentless. I gasp as his teeth graze my lip.

“Killian—”

He swallows the rest, his tongue sweeping inside, deep and claiming. One hand fists in my hair, the other slips lower, fingers brushing over bare skin, finding me slick and trembling. He groans against my lips.

“No panties.”

It’s not a question. It’s a confirmation, low and dark and reverberating through my spine. I bite my lip, smiling even as my body arches into his touch.

“Maddox has an aversion to them, apparently.”

His laugh is a growl, hot against my jaw. “So, do I.” His fingers dip lower, parting me, sliding through wet heat. He isn’t even upset that I didn’t wear panties because Maddox told me to, not him. “Fuck, Harper.”

I whimper as he circles my clit, slow and torturous. “Only for you.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, pressing a thick finger inside me. My head thuds back against the wall. “For us, Harper. You’re ours.”

I don’t deny it. Can’t. My breath hitches as he adds another finger, stretching me, curling deep. My fingers claw at his shoulders, nails biting into cotton and muscle. He watches me come apart—the flutter of my lashes, the tremble in my bottom lip—and his eyes go black.

“That’s it, princess. Let me feel it.”

I do. I shatter. My thighs squeeze around his wrist, my body bowing as pleasure rips through me like lightning. I see stars behind my eyelids, feel them bursting behind my skin. He doesn’t stop. Keeps me riding his hand until I’m trembling, gasping, whispering his name over and over like a prayer.

Then he yanks the front of my dress down.

Buttons pop, fabric tears. Cool air hits my bare chest, my nipples hardening instantly. He doesn’t give me time to react—his mouth is on me, sucking one breast deep, then the other, his teeth grazing sensitized peaks. I cry out, my hands flying to his hair, gripping tight.

“Killian—”

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I saw you,” he growls, lifting me higher.

He turns, pressing me back against the wall with my legs still locked around him, and then suddenly I’m moving downward—not all the way to the floor, just enough that he can lower himself, his head dipping between my thighs.