Midnight Muse

“Quinn?” Knox asks when we’re both cleaned up and back in his bed.

My head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling me towards sleep. The moonlight streams in through the blinds we have forgotten to close, painting Knox’s face with stripes of soft light. I admire the straight bridge of his nose, his lips, his dark eyes when I shift to look at him only to find him already staring at me.

His fingers dance across my forearm where it’s resting between his biceps, a gentle pattern that makes me feel safe and loved.

“Yes?”

“Did you mean it?” He asks, and the softness of his voice in the dark feels like a secret, and the fact that he used my name instead of the endearing ‘Princess’ he so often calls me has my body tensing before I can stop it.

Knox feels it anyway.

I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. I shift through the haze of tonight, the things he said, the things I’ve said. Through the all of the touches and kisses and promises pressed into skin.

And then it hits me.

“About wanting you to give me a tattoo?”

Knox’s eyes shutter as if he’s thinking about it. I don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock beneath the sheet, pressed against the leg I have slung over his thigh.

My pussy clenches in response. I bite back a smile, enjoying the way that he reacts to my words.

“Yes,” he answers, almost nervously.

I brush a few strands of damp hair from his forehead. When we went to shower, Knox showed me a thing or two, sinking to his knees between my legs until I could barely hold myself up. Then, he proceeded to lather my body in soap, massaging it into my aching muscles.

Knox catches my hand, intertwining our fingers and presses a chaste kiss to my palm. I never thought that he’d turn out to be so tender and kind beneath that harsh exterior he normally wears.

My stomach flutters at the thought of him so soft and compassionate only with me.

“Yes, Knox,” I answer and he smiles. My heart soars at the sight of him so bright-eyed. “I meant it.”

I squeal as he rolls us, caging me between his forearms. His cock is thickening against my leg, but I don’t have time to really appreciate it because he’s slanting his mouth over mine, thoroughly distracting me.

A quick sweep of his tongue parts my lips and my fingers find their way to his hair, digging in deeply. I keep him close with an encouraging noise, wrapping my legs around his waist as Knox rolls his hips.

“I’ll give you something good, Princess,” he says against my mouth, rubbing his cock through my slit, easily finding my arousal waiting for him. I melt into the pillows, the soft mattress in bliss. I’m just as ready for another round as he is, and at this rate, we won’t be sleeping at all tonight.

As long as I’m with Knox, though, I don’t care.

I snort at his words, shaking with laughter. “Yeah, right. You’d be more likely to tattoo a dick somewhere on me.”

“How about somewhere in you?” He asks, teasing my entrance with his tip. My fit of giggles dissolves into a moan, the feeling of his cock, bare against my wet pussy is immaculate.

I pull him down for another desperate kiss.

“Yes, please,” I say, somewhere between breathing and kissing. Knox removes himself from me and I whine, but he’s shushing me softly as he reaches into his bedside table for another condom. Sitting back, he rolls it on his thick length with ease while I take an appreciative glance down his body.

Knox is back on top of me within seconds, stealing a peck against my mouth before pulling away, eyes serious. I don’t know how he can take anything seriously right now, but I give him my attention anyway.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Princess.”

If he wasn’t talking about tattoos, I’d swoon.

“Even if I want something silly?” I ponder, moaning loudly when Knox doesn’t hesitate to align his hips with mine and shove forward. My legs wind around his waist, pulling him even closer to me, tracing his smooth skin, the rippling muscles of his back as he begins moving.

Knox’s hum against my throat sends shivers skittering up my spine. “Even if you want something silly,” he promises, speaking through the kisses he’s peppering across my body. “I can see you with something more meaningful, too, if you want. Something that represents you as you are.” His mouth finds mine and our hips slap together in a rough thrust. His eyes are soft, determined, and proud. “Something that shows your grace, your beauty, your innocence,” he jokes, climbing back up to nip at the tip of my nose. I laugh, but there’s something about his words settles a piece of my heart.

It’s something that I thought I’ve lost. Something that’s been tamped down since I turned thirteen and won first place in the art fair for my drawing of two swans with their beaks pressed together, forming a heart. One of them was dark, and the other was a pristine white, opposites, just like Knox and I.