Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Ivy

I’m reeling.

Trembling.

Needing.

And then his mouth is on me, and I’m not thinking about him talking or the accusatory look Snowball had given me in the kitchen.

I’m thinking about his rough hands gripping my thighs, keeping my legs spread and my pussy open for him to feast on. I’m thinking about the sleek darts of his tongue and the sensation of his beard brushing against me.

“Knox,” I whisper.

“Fuck me,” he growls. “But you’re beautiful.”

And fuck me if he wasn’t right about those words feeling great against my pussy. They vibrate through my labia, arrow straight for my clit?—

Or not.

It’s his thumb and his tongue and?—

“Oh, God,” I groan, my head falling back against the pillows, my hips moving as I seek purchase, seek pressure, seek him.

And he gives it to me.

With his tongue and lips and teeth.

With his fingers.

With his?—

Pleasure spirals through me as one thick finger slides home. And then another. And he’s still talking, telling me how much he likes the taste of me, how much he wants me, how wet and tight I am.

All the while that pleasure is tightening through my middle, sensitizing my breasts, my skin, my pussy, my clit.

So, when he nips at the bundle of nerves, making me cry out, it’s right there.

My orgasm.

“Come for me lioness.”

Slip. Slip. Slide.

I give in, letting the pleasure come.

And God, does it come. Like a tsunami or an avalanche or an earthquake that razes buildings down to their foundations.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh—” I break off with a moan, my vision going hazy, my limbs lax, my entire focus on how my orgasm feels as it barrels through me.

It may be a year later or it may be five minutes, but eventually I come back to my body.

And it’s to find Knox still kneeling between my legs, his expression cat-ate-the-cream as he lazily trails his tongue through my pussy.

“Oh, God,” I groan.

He hums then asks, voice a rasp, “Too much?”

Not nearly enough.

Even though I’ve just come, even though the aftershocks of pleasure are still ricocheting through my body, I want more.

I want all of him.

And I want all of him present, not the worry creeping into his eyes, not the hesitation entering his touch.

I reach down, snag his wrist, and drag him up, until our naked bodies are pressed together, until I can feel the hard jut of his erection pressing against my thigh, so close to where I’m desperate for him.

“Ivy—”

There’s worry in his eyes now.

I cup his face in my hands. “Not too much,” I murmur, holding his stare.

“Then what?”

I allow my mouth to hitch up at one corner. “You’ll never stop talking now.”

The worry fades. Arrogance takes its place.

And the sexy smile he gives me has my insides pulsing all over again. “Damn right I won’t.”

“Shut up,” I whisper, hitching my thigh around his waist. “And get inside me.”

Heat flares in his eyes and need scorches the air between us, but he doesn’t delay, reaching for the condom packet, rolling it down the hard length of his erection.

That he didn’t hesitate to protect me, didn’t give it a second thought from the moment we began this, unlocks another part of my heart, my soul.

Slip. Slip. Slide.

But then I’m not thinking about my heart, and I’m, sure as shit, not thinking about the past, about the bad men and worse times.

I’m not thinking about anything except for Knox.

He reaches for my other leg, lifts it, hitching it around his hip. “Hold on tight, baby,” he orders.

I suck in a breath as he begins pushing into me.

I hiss out that same breath as he keeps going, as the stretch and burn of him pressing deep mingling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“You’re big,” I whisper.

“You like it,” he whispers back.

And then he gives me something I really like.

He pulls out and thrusts back in, hard and deep and a little rough.

“Oh,” I murmur, grabbing on to his shoulders, digging my nails in, and holding on tight, just like he ordered.

“Yeah.” Another stroke that has me moaning. A sexy smile that has my insides fluttering and pulsing around his cock. “ Oh.”

He doesn’t stop talking the entire time he fucks me, but it’s not annoying. It’s hot when he tells me how much he loves my pussy squeezing his dick, how he loves the way I taste and feel, and when he tells how I’m a good girl with a nice, tight cunt I know it’s not going to take much to push me over the edge a second time.

Something he clearly sees if what he does next is any indication.

He snakes a hand between us.

Down. Down.

I gasp when he strokes my clit then again when he applies pressure, harder, rougher, more intently than before.

It’s exactly what I need, that pressure, that roughness, and I cry out when he pounds into me faster, when his fingers work me, when he?—

“Knox!”

“ Now , lioness.”

And my body behaves, my pussy convulsing around him, my orgasm blazing through me, my vision narrowing to just him and this moment and…

The pleasure exploding through me.

He keeps thrusting and it’s a fucking beautiful sight, his muscles standing out in sharp relief, the sweat glistening on his brow, his strength and speed and utter focus.

On me. On my pleasure. On?—

His own.

He groans as his thrusts go wild, his head dropping forward to rest on my collarbone.

And then I get to witness the most beautiful thing.

Not Knox coming apart—though that’s fucking incredible—but it’s what happens after that’s somehow even better.

His gentle hands as tucks me under the covers and holds me close while we laze there, dozing for a bit. His soft touch as we take a shower later and he soaps me from feet to shoulders. His careful strokes as he dries me afterward with a towel. His intense eyes watching me as we both get dressed.

The supplies he brings in from his car for Winter.

Him supervising the critters when I go and pick Evie up at school, then wishing her good luck at karate tonight—he knows that too?—when we stop by the condo for an after school snack.

Him telling me the landlord came by while I was gone to let me know a new dishwasher was going to be delivered and installed tomorrow—and the cagey way he denied having any part of it.

Kisses and gentle scratches for the critters. A sparkly stuffed toy in the shape of a pine tree that’s the Sierra’s mascot for Evie. And for me?

I get a hug and more words.

And they send me slipping further down that hillside.

The next night, Evie and I get home from dance, and I find myself turning on the TV, tuning to the broadcast of the Sierra game.

It’s halfway through the first period and they’re up on the Vipers by a goal, and though I’m tempted to sit and watch for a glimpse of Knox?—

Slip. Slip. Slide.

—I go about with my evening chores.

We supervise Winter as she uses the bathroom, and then I talk Evie through dinner for the furry critters before making dinner for the non-furry ones.

Washing up goes a lot faster thanks to the sparkling new dishwasher.

Thanks to Knox.

And eventually, Evie and I both find our way to the living room, to the TV, to that Sierra game—me with my laptop as I tweak workout plans and look through my schedule for the next day, Evie with a worksheet on digraphs.

Knox gets a goal and is playing like he has rocket boosters strapped to his skates.

And I know that I’m watching the game more closely than normal, know that I’m giving far too much away.

But I don’t know exactly how much until Evie sets down her pencil and glances over at me.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, honey?” I ask distractedly, holding my breath when Knox is knocked to the ice, not releasing it until he’s back on his feet and chasing down the puck.

“Is Knox going to be my new dad?”