For once in his life, Knox appeared to be feeling helpful and yanked the shirt over his head with one hand. God, all that skin and muscle and ink. I dragged my nails over his chest, and he growled into my mouth.
Yes, please.
With one deft swipe, he shoved the strap of my dress off my shoulder then did the same to the other one.
“About time I find out what you’ve got on under these dresses,” he murmured.
I sank my teeth into his lower lip and yanked hard on his belt.
I cursed myself for putting on my least sexy underwear this morning. But at least I hadn’t bothered with a bra this morning. Between unsexy undies and unshackled boobs, I figured it all evened out.
He lost his jeans at about the same moment my dress slithered down my body and pooled at my ankles.
“Goddammit, baby. I fucking knew it.”
His mouth was on my neck, nibbling and kissing its way south.
I shivered. “Knew what?”
“That you’d look like this. That you had a fuck-me body.” He cupped one breast greedily.
He backed me into the fridge, and the cold metal had me yelping. “Knox!”
“I’d apologize, but you know I’m not the least bit sorry,” he said as his tongue darted out to stroke my aching nipple.
I was no longer capable of forming words. I was no longer capable of drawing in a breath. All I could do was cup his erection through his boxer briefs and hang on for dear life. When his lips closed over my nipple and he started to suck, the back of my head hit the fridge. Those deep, decadent pulls echoed all over my body, and I had a feeling he knew it.
He didn’t stop sucking as he shoved his free hand into my unsexy underwear.
We both moaned when his fingers found me.
“Knew it,” he muttered again as his mouth moved to my other breast. “Knew you’d be wet for me.”
My moan turned into a cry when he parted my slit with two fingers. The man knew what he was doing. There was no fumbling. No wasted, awkward movements. Even driven by need, every touch was magic.
“Need to feel you from the inside,” he said, brushing his beard over my sensitized nipple. When his fingers thrust into me, my knees buckled.
He was too much. Too skilled. Expert-level. Professional ruiner of vaginas. And I didn’t know if I could keep up. When he started moving those amazing fingers, I decided I didn’t care.
His penis flexed in my grip. I clu
msily shoved his briefs down, freeing his thick shaft, and gripped it hard.
Knox straightened on a groan and dropped his forehead to mine as we worked each other with eager hands.
“Need you in a bed,” he growled as a drop of moisture leaked over my fingers.
I gripped him harder, stroked faster. “I sure hope you can get us to one because I can’t walk.”
“Damn, baby. Slow the fuck down,” he ordered through gritted teeth.
But I wasn’t listening. I was too busy matching the pump of his fingers inside me.
I gasped when he pulled out of my throbbing core. “Mean!” I hissed against his neck.
But just when my body felt desolate over the loss, he tossed me over his shoulder.
“Knox!”