Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
But it wasn’t. It only served to make the moment more charged. It could’ve made me feel like some kind of object, bowing to the whims of a man, yet it didn’t. I felt powerful, with more agency than I’d ever had in my life.
By the time I was standing in my bra and panties, I was trembling with need. The bra and panties themselves were nothing special, just simple cotton. But Knox’s gaze on the fabric made me feel as if I were wearing the finest silks and laces.
With a long exhale, I reached back to unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then I hooked my panties with my thumbs, bringing them down and stepping out of them.
I’d barely done that before he was on me, his hand tagging my neck and tugging me forward so my lips crashed against his once more. His hands trailed down my back, clenching my bare ass, pressing my naked body into his clothed one.
Once again, just as I was losing myself in the world-breaking, chaotic passion of the kiss, Knox detached himself.
“Can I just…” He looked violent. Crazed. Half mad with desire. But also something else, something conveyed by the softness of his tone. He looked almost … vulnerable.
It hit me in a place that wasn’t sexual. In my heart, a place I hadn’t thought Knox was able to touch.
“Can you what?” I probed. If he was asking for permission, then surely it must be some dirty, sordid thing that he needed my okay for. And I was ready to say yes to anything at that point.
“Look,” he ground out. “At you.”
He was asking permission to look at me after claiming my mouth? And after kidnapping me? After stealing my heart and soul and ruining me for all other men?
It should’ve been a complicated response to his simple question, but it wasn’t. I found myself coming to grips with the fact that I might’ve done absolutely anything he asked, without question if spoken in that tone that stroked me in places no hands could reach.
Instead of answering with my words, I untangled myself from him. It was immensely difficult because I loved being wrapped up in him, having his body so close.
The room was balmy, warm from the roaring fireplace. And my skin was hot with desire. There were tiny beads of perspiration already covering much of my naked body.
Despite this, my nipples peaked as I stepped back onto the rug, naked, for Knox to look at.
It should’ve brought forward a healthy dose of self-consciousness. It wasn’t easy, even with a familiar lover, to stand naked in front of them without moving, without the fervor of sex or even the distraction of life.
Distracted meant men saw tits, ass, pussy—not always in that order. They did not see ridges of cellulite, extra flesh around the midsection, little imperfections that seemed anything but little to women.
Knox wasn’t distracted. Not even a little.
His eyes were rapt on my skin. Every blemish, dimple, every imperfection.
He rubbed his hand over his mouth as he catalogued every inch of me. My knees trembled under the weight of his gaze. It was similar to how he’d looked at me when I’d had the towel on. He wasn’t worshiping me, not exactly. He wore the face of a man who was looking at something he wanted to plunder, wanted to brand. But there was also something else. He was a man coveting something he didn’t feel worthy of yet held a glint of knowing he was going to take it anyway.
After minutes, minutes of him looking over every crevice of my naked body, his eyes found mine.
“You are perfect,” he said, his voice nothing but a rasp.
That was a compliment that men tried to throw around because they felt that’s what we wanted to hear, but there was always an emptiness to it. Because they saw what they wanted to see in us, what they wanted us to be, considering that to be perfect. But Knox saw all of me, knew all of me and still considered me that way.
It was a dizzying weight, to be something precious to a man like Knox. I felt something lock into me. Something that told me we’d never disengage clean or without pain. That this wasn’t just sex. It was about souls too.
Knox let me walk up to him, but in a way, it felt like I was approaching a wild animal. Every one of my movements had to be slow, purposeful, or else he might’ve turned on me.
I felt it. Fear. I was afraid of Knox. Not as much as I should’ve been. Yet that was what drew me to him, that fear. It was what excited me. Made me feel alive.
My hands found the hem of his shirt, but just as I was about to peel it up, he caught my wrists in his grip.