Midnight Muse

“Because I really like you,” he answers, and my heart explodes in a flurry of want. My pussy flutters in a flurry of need.

All of this time we’ve spent fighting, when we’ve secretly liked each other. Every time Rory tried to ask me about Knox had been deny, deny, deny, because of this very moment right now. I hadn’t wanted to think of him like that, even when I subconsciously was desperate to. I didn’t actually want to like Knox, not after what he’d done, but I find myself admitting that I like him a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I could.

Bunching up the bottom of my dress into my hands, I take a step closer to Knox. He’s frozen in the doorway, watching me slowly drag the fabric up my body and over my head in a burst of confidence. I’d forgone a bra, and my nipples tighten as the chill of the room washes over me, underneath that piercing gaze.

In the few steps it takes me to cross the room to him, my dress is on the floor and Knox can’t stop looking at my body, drinking me in desperately like an artist does their inspiration.

“I really like you too, Knox,” I respond softly. This is the most intimate thing I’ve ever done, bare myself to a man while he’s still fully clothed. The ball is in his court and the bulge in his pants has me more than hopeful.

Knox curses. “Fuck, Princess. You’re making my hands shake.”

My solution is a simple one. I take the glass from him and reach over to set it on the dresser. I can feel his eyes rove my body as I move, gaze hot like a knife.

Turning back to him, I slowly, gently take his hands. They’re trembling, and it makes me ache for him.

He watches me closely as I lift one of his palms to my lips, kissing it sweetly. It’s followed by the other, and then I’m dragging his hands down my skin and over my breasts, squeezing his hands around them.

Knox’s breath hitches and my head nearly rolls back on my shoulders when his fingers twitch as he fights the urge to squeeze harder. I peer up at him. He’s so warm, eyes bright and drinking me in like a delight. I want to feel his hands everywhere. Right this second.

“They’re not shaking right now, Knox.”

As quick as lightning, Knox strikes, lunging forward and scooping me off my feet, kicking the door shut behind him.

I arch into his touch, the tightness of my sensitive nipples grazing across the soft fabric of his shirt. I moan into his mouth at the feeling and he swallows the noise desperately.

His room is small, and in two great strides he’s placing me on his bed and crawling up after me like a wolf stalking his prey.

I scoot backwards as he ascends over me, until I can’t anymore.

Knox follows me like a worshipper to his God.

His hands trail my claves to my thighs where they all but fall open for him. The fabric of my panties is wet and I shiver as the air of his room seeps into the fabric, shivering harder when Knox’s hot gaze drags down my body like a brush dipped in paint.

Like this, kneeling between my legs, he’s the one that looks like the perfect picture. Soon, I’ll have my own sketchbook filled with drawings of him just like this, strands of his black hair falling across his glowing eyes, his tongue poking out to wet his lips.

“My God, Princess. Where do I even start with you?” He asks, voice filled with disbelief.

I know his question is rhetoric, but I can’t help the whine that accompanies the answer slipping past my lips. “Anywhere you want.”

As if Knox can’t stand the distance any longer, his hips find mine. I can feel the length of his cock through his pants and I keen when he grinds into me, rubbing against my aching core.

His fingers find the buttons of his shirt. They’re not trembling now, not as he pins me with those hungry eyes, as if I might slip away if he takes them off of me for a single moment.

As if.

He’s torturing me with his slow pace, and it’s not fair that I’m the only one undressed here. I lean forward, taking over for him, my fingers frantic to touch the sliver of his chest that he’s too leisurely exposing.

Knox’s body is smooth, warm, and the ridges of muscle beneath my fingertips feel like puzzle pieces. I know exactly where he’s going to fit, pressed tightly against my body.

His shirt slides down his arms, showing me those impressive biceps. Tattoos of all kinds litter his skin and I’m interested in seeing the artwork he’s curated for his body for only a moment before he’s leaning over me and caging me between his elbows. I can’t help but stare as we hover in this limbo, like he’s suddenly realizing the same thing as me: that we’ve spent too much time arguing when all along we could have been doing this.

Knox dips down to capture my lips against his in a sweet kiss. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs against my mouth, following the words with his tongue.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” I whisper, delirious from the feeling of his mouth on my neck. Knox sucks lightly and my breath catches, my thighs quivering to wrap around his taut waist, but there are still too many clothes separating us. “But if you get inside me right now, I’ll forgive you again.”

Knox lifts his head and my heart flutters at the grin on his face. I hope I won’t always be so surprised to see his happiness, but I can count the number of times I’ve seen him genuinely smile on one hand, and he’s so handsome when he does.

Something blooms in my chest with it; the things I’ve learned about him, from him, this man who hasn’t let his hardships keep him from doing what he loves.