Page 64 of One Last Thing Before You Go

“I love it when you take control,” I can’t help but say. I blush in embarrassment at the confession, covering my face with my hands.

“I know you do,” he says against my skin, kissing what feels like every inch me, stopping to unhook my bra.

“You do?” I look down at him, watching him watch me as he travels down my body.

“I do. Because you spend the entire day in control of everything else, working, managing people, making sure things are going well. And by the end of the day, I know you must be tired. I see you, Lottie Veracruz. I see you and how you are every day. And I know losing control from time to time is exactly what you need.”

He sees me.

I gasp. “I… I think you’re right.”

He grins that lopsided smile of his, his eyes full of the mischief I love. “I know I am. And now you’re gonna just sit back and enjoy this.”

Knox wraps his hands around my thighs and pulls me further down the mattress in one movement. And without any further preamble, he dips his face in between my legs and presses his lips there, kissing my pussy as if it were my mouth.

“Jesus,” I moan, my back arching off the mattress.

He groans into me, the vibrations from the noises coming from deep within his chest making the whole thing ten times better. Just as I’m recovering from the initial pleasure of his lips on me, of his hot breath on my wet folds, I feel the slow drag of his tongue over my clit and⁠—

I feel incredibly empty, my body aching to be filled. God, it feels so good, but⁠—

As if he could read my mind, Knox slides two fingers in me, making me almost cry in relief. He murmurs words of approval into me, but I can barely make them out, too caught up in a fog of pleasure and pure, unhinged happiness. Eyes closed, hands knotted in his hair, I come hard as he hooks his fingers in me, hitting me in just the right spot. My mind blanks, clenching around him during this life-altering moment.

He waits until I come down from my orgasm, but then he’s on me, in me, and I am so deliciously full. He’s big and it’s a tight fit, but I’m pliant and wet from my come. His warm body over mine, pressing me into the mattress while he’s inside me feels like the best thing I’ve ever felt.

“You feel better than I remember,” he pants into my neck. “God, so good. It’s so fucking good.”

I want to scream yes and it’s better than good and I want this all the time, but I can barely catch my breath as he moves in a near-punishing rhythm. Without warning, he sits up on his knees, pulling my legs to rest on his left shoulder. He wraps an arm around them while his right hand grips my hip and I fist the sheets below me.

“Your tits are incredible.” He watches as they move with every one of his thrusts, absentmindedly kissing my ankles. His body is perfect and already glistening with a sheen of sweat when I run my hands over his chest, his abs. He’s hard and soft all over, skin smooth and covered in tattoos and a smattering of hair.

I want to get to know every tattoo, every story behind them. I don’t want to leave a single one out.

I watch as something in Knox’s expression shifts, letting me know how close he really is.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling my legs at his side once more before falling over me. His right hand comes between us, his thumb circling my clit in quick, decisive movements and⁠—

I’m so close. I’m so close.

“Good. That’s good.” He’s breathless, growling like an animal, both of us sweaty from the exertion. Right before I feel the orgasm come over me, I tighten my legs around his waist and dig my nails into his back, unable to hold back the scream that rips through my chest.

I come in waves, over and over again. It feels never-ending in the best possible way. And when I’m finally done, I can tell he’s on the edge, so close it’s painful.

“Can I come inside you?” he barely manages to push out.

“Yes,” I say, gripping him to me as it’s his turn to lose control now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LOTTIE

The softest of pressures against my forehead wakes me from my sleep, an arm tightening around my waist.

“Sorry,” his voice is low and gravelly in my ear, its sound flooding me with memories from last night. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mmm. What… time is it?” I ask, mid-yawn, not even hiding that I don’t want to move an inch from where I lay. I groan when I stretch, feeling the soreness in my joints and between my legs. The former, I’ll wear with a badge of honor. I was bent in the most delicious ways last night. The latter serves merely as a reminder of the inconveniences of endometriosis: sex hurts sometimes. And not in a good way.

Don’t let it ruin this moment, Lottie.