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“What happened to you?’
“Nothing. I just got spooked is all,” I say, trying to turn my head so he won’t realize I’m lying.
He doesn’t believe me. I know he doesn’t, but thankfully, he doesn’t push me.
“I don’t have a date, Sophie,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“Then why did you say you do?” I ask, turning my attention back to him.
“My dad has a fundraiser coming up. I’m supposed to bring a date. He had one picked out for me, but I’m not taking her, because I planned to ask you,” he says, brushing a piece of hair from my face.
My eyes search his. I feel a lump in my throat. I don’t know how I can be so angry at him all the time but then still want to kiss him.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, leaning in closer.
“How I must be crazy. I’m so pissed at you all the time, but when you look at me like this, the only thing I can think about is how badly I want you,” I admit, surprising myself.
He doesn’t respond and just presses his lips to mine, sliding his tongue in-between and connecting it to mine.
“Knox.” I moan, my head falling back against the wall as his lips travel down my neck.
“You’re mine, Sophia. You know that, right?” he growls, nibbling at my neck.
“I know.” I pant.
“You know what?” he says, pulling away, making my body ache to feel him again.
“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I’ll always be yours,” I say, desperate to feel him again.
His hands grip my face, pulling me in for a rough kiss as he presses himself against me.
I hike up one leg, wrapping it around his waist, trying to connect my body with his in any way possible.
His hands drop, grabbing my thighs and picking me up. I wrap my legs around his waist.
“Not here,” he growls, pulling me away from the wall, my body still latched around his.
He carries me through the house like I don’t weigh a thing and down the hall towards his bedroom door, flinging it open.
Closing it behind us, he carries me effortlessly down the stairs before tossing me on his bed like a rag doll.
“I’m going to worship you tonight,” he promises, and I feel the wetness pooling between my legs.
My eyes never leave his body as he strips out of his shorts and crawls onto the bed towards me. His hands grip my spandex shorts, yanking them down my legs.
“You look so fucking delicious,” he says, looking at me like I’m the dessert he’s been dying for since his last meal.
I barely have time to register what’s happening before his tongue swipes against my clit, sending me skyrocketing.
My body arches and my fingernails dig into the blankets.
“Shit, Knox,” I say, before clamping a hand over my mouth.
Knox’s tongue does things to me that I’ve never experienced before. He makes me feel a way I didn’t even know was possible. If I died right now, I’d be satisfied.
Just when I think I can’t possibly take any more, he sticks two fingers inside of me, alternating between his tongue and his fingers. I know I’ve crashed from at least two orgasms, and he’s not even been inside of me yet.
“I need to feel you inside of me,” I say, desperate for him to keep going, but also desperate for that deeper connection.
