Page 64 of Knox

Caroline fit against me like she was fucking made for me. Like she belonged nowhere else but right here.

But that wasn’t true. It could never be true. She was leaving in a few hours. That limo would get here, and I would watch her drive away to God knows where, and then I would have to pretend none of this had ever happened.

How the hell was I supposed to let her go?

Caroline tilted her head back. My eyes found hers easier than breathing. Hers were so blue. They never flinched, never backed down even when they were filled with tears—but now they were soft and reflected my pain.

“Knox,” she whispered.

My throat went tight. “Caroline.”

I tipped my head forward a little, and my eyes dropped to her mouth.

There was a beat of hesitation—and then, like a fork of lightning, we crashed into a kiss whose only intent was to make us forget.

Stay, I thought desperately. Please, God, stay.

My cock hardened against her, twitching against her thigh, already aching to bury itself deep inside her. Caroline sucked in a breath and tilted her hips forward—an invitation. My hands dropped to her ass, supple and perfect just for me.

I kissed her deeper, groaning low in my throat. It was rough, punishing, my teeth nipping at her lower lip. I pinned her against the shower wall, caging her against me.

Caroline made a small warning noise but didn’t fight. Because she wanted this as much as I did. Because we hated ourselves and wanted to be punished for our mistakes. And what better way to do that than fuck each other raw?

My hands roamed over her slickened body, gripping her thighs, her hips. My mouth devoured hers.

Then my fingers teased her clit.

“Knox,” Caroline gasped, her body jerking.

“Shut up and let me fuck you, woman,” I growled.

Her nails dug into my back with force. I groaned in pain. Damn. I should’ve known she would be submissive.

“Fine,” I grumbled, withdrawing to glare at her. She was glaring back. “The fuck you want?”

“To forget,” she snapped. “So we’re going to fuck each other.”

My eyes narrowed. We were at a stalemate.

“Fuck me good,” she said pointedly, “and don’t talk to me like I’m some common whore.”

I smirked. “Damn right, spitfire. You’re a princess?—”

I froze when Caroline’s hand closed around my cock. Shit.

With her other hand, she took my jaw between her thumb and fingers. Her lips curved into a wicked grin. “I’m a damn queen.”

A challenge.

I grinned back. “Then let me treat you like one.”

Both hands released me when I slipped one finger inside her. She gasped and arched her body into mine, grabbing my shoulders to hold herself steady. I put another one inside. She whimpered and it made my cock pulse with want—with need.

I fucked her with my fingers first, both of us rolling our hips, finding a pace we got the most pleasure out of. I forgot about the heat and the beating of the shower. All that mattered was her moans and whimpers.

Caroline fisted her fingers in my hair, tugging hard enough to make me groan. I dropped my head to her shoulder and pumped my fingers deeper into her tight, wet heat. She clenched around me, desperate for more, even if she would never admit it. I crooked my fingers, dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves I knew would make her crazy.

Her body jerked against mine.

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