Midnight Muse

Knox shakes his head, tugging me in the opposite direction, towards the door. “Not a fucking clue.”

CHAPTER 30

KNOX

Quinn falls into my bed with a breathy gasp that I eat up as I follow, prowling towards her.

She’s scrambling to the headboard but reaches forward, not letting our lips part from the searing kiss we share. Like she can’t get enough of me. Like we didn’t annoy the fuck out of each other months ago.

And fuck, the way my name rolls off her tongue, all needy and hot—it’s not filled with hatred anymore. Now, it’s a heady whine that makes my cock harder than stone. I might just crumble under her touch like a delicate piece of charcoal, and I’d let it happen, too, all to hear those pretty moans, taste those pretty lips, touch that pretty skin, soft as silk.

I want to be wrapped all around her, embedded in her skin like the chalky substance I hold so dearly. I want to ink her skin with my touch, with my come?—

Quinn’s nails graze down the length of my back when I settle my weight against her. A shiver drags down my spine as a fleeting thought flashes through my mind: one of her, naked and sitting on my cock, her fingers wrapped around my tattoo gun as she presses it against my skin, marking me as hers.

I’ll teach her how to hold it, and let her have free reign with it, because anything that she gives me, I want. I want her glares and her harrumphs, her curses and her arms crossed over her chest, her quips and her quivers.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to burst from that visual alone. If anything, I can’t wait to coat her virgin skin in my ink. There is so much canvas for me to work with, all smooth and perfect, practically begging for a tattoo or two.

But more than that, I want Quinn’s smiles, the laughter that sounds better than any song or sound I’ve ever heard. I want those lavish hazel eyes on me at all times, her hands on my skin, gently tracing my scars as if they will tear open at the seams. I want those drawings of me she’s been hiding, and I want to model for her. I want to be her muse. The very thing that she’s obsessed with and can never get enough of.

She’s already that for me.

I want to take away her fear, the anxious look she gets when she’s drawing. I can tell that she loves it with all of her heart and that she’s struggling. It’s something that I’ve been meaning to bring up, but haven’t found the time. The semester is almost over, and in a few weeks, the both of us will be in different states for the holidays. She deserves to know that she’s not alone, that I feel similarly with the apprenticeships that have gone nowhere.

I need to tell Quinn that I don’t think my dream of becoming a tattoo artist is feasible anymore. How I’ve stayed up many late nights, thinking over it all. Every interview. Every piece I’ve given since the accident. My hands shake too goddamn much to tattoo, but not to draw, something I’ve always loved doing, and still do. I can make a living off of it, I know this because of the exhibition. People enjoy my art. Quinn enjoys my art.

And I don’t think anything other than that matters to me anymore.

Quinn grinds her hips up into mine and I revel in the way that she takes what she wants, tells me what she needs without words, how her body rolls up into mine, demanding my attention.

I’ve been a fucking fool all this time. A goddamn fucking fool. I could’ve had her like this, milking my cock dry, making these sounds that threaten to tear down the walls. I could’ve had my hands all over her, because she seems to like the way that I’m touching her, even with how shaky and scarred they are.

Quinn makes me feel like they’re not. Like there’s not a single thing wrong with me. Like my hands aren’t a fucking mess most of the time. Like I’m not still riddled with nightmares of my accident. Like my father isn’t prowling around campus like a fucking bloodhound, trying to buy this building, reminding me that I’ll never be able to get away from him, no matter where I go or what I do.

I touch her everywhere I can, slipping beneath her t-shirt because the need to feel her is a fervent one that I can’t contain. I hum into Quinn’s mouth, her warm skin against mine. It burns across my scars but she feels too good to stop.

Slipping my fingers around her back, I unclasp her bra, parting my mouth from hers with a harsh breath. Quinn’s quick to turn her head away from me when I graze my teeth across her jaw, offering me more room to work. The ease in which she opens up for me makes my cock twitch and I groan as I rut against her.

I shove up the hem of her shirt and her bra under her chin. I could let her sit up and slip the garments away, but I’m too focused of the taste of her skin on my tongue, the sweet scent of her filling my lungs with each pull of air I take. She smells like summer, fresh linen swinging with the easy breeze. There’s a hint of fruit, like pineapples or kiwis.

She’s the perfect taste.

Reaching my intended destination, I mouth across her breasts, avoiding her pert nipples, just to tease her a little more. As much as I want to rush through this, I also want to draw it out, to make it last, because I’ve never been as happy as I’ve been with Quinn in my arms.

The way her fingers scrape against my scalp in frustration is amusing. I hide my smirk against her skin, enjoying the impatient whimper she releases when she tries to grind against me and I pull away completely.

“Knox.” She’s breathless, just like she’d be if my cock were in her mouth right now.

I pick a spot close enough to the rosy peak of her breast but far enough to torture her a few moments longer, sucking harshly to leave a mark. I hum and she squirms.

“Yes, Princess?” I ask, plastering on my most innocent face. My Quinnie sees right through it because she’s glaring at me, eyes narrowed, pupils wide.

Her chest heaves as she tries her best to catch her breath. I bet I’m making that difficult by the way each of my exhales breeze over the wet mark I just licked into her skin.

“Please,” she swallows harshly, begging. “Touch me.”

Something inside of me roars to accept her soft-spoken request, but I resist.