Page 73 of Knocked Up By the Silver Foxes

She arches, her hips lifting to meet mine, and I set a brutal pace, fucking into her with deep, measured strokes that have her gasping my name. The desk creaks beneath us, papers scattering, but I don’t care. Let the whole goddamn vineyard hear her.

I lean over her, bracing one hand beside her head, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. “You feel that?” I grind deep, making her whimper. “That’s how much I want you. How much I’ll always want you.”

Her answer is a broken moan, her legs tightening around me as I drive into her harder, faster.

I pull back just enough to lift her legs over my shoulders, bending her nearly in half, and she gasps, her hands scrambling for purchase on the desk. I press a kiss to the delicate strap of her stiletto where it wraps around her ankle, then the other, before I push back into her, deeper this time, fucking her so hard the desk groans in protest.

“Killian—” Her voice is wrecked, her body trembling.

“I know,” I grit out, my control fraying. “Come for me again. Let me feel it.”

She shatters with a cry, her nails raking down my chest, her body clamping around me like a vise. The sensation drags me under, and I bury myself deep, spilling inside her with a groan, my hips jerking through the last waves of my release.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is our ragged breathing. I press my forehead to hers, my hands still gripping her thighs, unwilling to let go just yet.

She exhales a laugh, breathless, her fingers tracing the ink on my shoulder. “You’re going to have to carry me out of here.”

I kiss her, slow and lingering. “I’ll carry you anywhere you want.”

She hums, her legs sliding off my shoulders as I pull out, her body languid and sated. I tuck myself back into my slacks, watching as she sits up, her skirt still rucked up around her waist, her hair a mess.

I reach out, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “You’re beautiful like this.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a flush high on her cheeks. “You’re insatiable.”

“Only for you.”

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she straightens her clothes, her movements slow, lazy. I watch her, memorizing the way she looks in this moment—flushed, fucked-out, mine.

Then I hold out my hand.

“Come on,” I say. “Asher will be pissed if we’re late for dinner.”

26

HARPER

It’s been about a week since Maddox left and I’ve learned two things about myself in his absence.

The first is that I miss him in a very specific, inconvenient way that is distinct from missing a friend and I’ve been just competent enough at ignoring it to get through the days without doing anything embarrassing.

The second is that the three of us, meaning me and Killian and Asher, have apparently been orbiting each other for long enough that we’ve settled into a gravitational pull nobody decided to establish. Tonight we’ve all ended up in Killian’s sitting room again, the same way we end up here three or four evenings a week now, nobody planning it, just all arriving in the same place around the same time like it’s a habit we’ve been practicing without noticing. Asher’s on the other couch with a book. Killian has the scotch and his phone and is doing the particular variety of not-working where you look at your phone frequently without actually responding to anything. I’m on the floor with my back against the couch and my event files spread around me and my second glass of the estate’s Bordeaux blanc.

It’s eleven at night.

It’s comfortable in a way I’ve stopped analyzing.

My phone lights up on the floor beside me.

Maddox: You three up?

I look up at Asher, who has already checked his phone. He looks at me. Killian’s phone has buzzed too.

“Apparently,” Killian says.

I open the video call.

Maddox is in what looks like his hotel room, the expensive kind where the lighting is amber and considered and everything is designed to make you feel like someone interesting. He’s got a glass of something dark in his hand and he’s leaning back in his chair and he has that smirk that means trouble on his unfairly handsome face.