Page 181 of Shots & Echoes

Her gaze locked on mine, sharp and unwavering. No hesitation. No fear.

“Neither do I.”

Something inside me snapped, unraveled, rebuilt itself all at once.

We weren’t just two people caught in something reckless anymore. We weren’t just skating on thin ice, waiting to fall through.

We were this.

Messy. Defiant. Unbreakable.

And no matter what came next—together would be enough.

The second her lips touched mine, the world outside ceased to exist.

No expectations. No consequences. No fear.

Just her.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I crashed into her like I had been starving for this—for her—for months. Because I had.

I lifted her onto my desk, the sharp edge biting into my hips as I pressed between her legs, dragging her flush against me. Her breath hitched, her hands gripping my shoulders like she needed to hold on or risk getting swept away.Too late, baby. We’re already lost in this.

My fingers skimmed beneath her jersey, tracing the soft, heated skin of her waist. She trembled—not from hesitation, butfrom the same wild, uncontrollable hunger that had ignited in me the first time I touched her.

“Knox,” she gasped, breathless and wanting, and that sound—fuck, that sound—sent a primal bolt of heat straight through me.

I tilted her head back, my lips trailing down her throat, feeling the frantic thrum of her pulse beneath my tongue. Her body arched against me, demanding more, and I gave it to her—God, I’d give her anything.

Her nails dug into my back, sharp and insistent, as I pushed her jersey higher, my palms mapping out every perfect dip and curve. She was all heat, all fire, and I wanted to burn with her until nothing else remained.

Her thighs tightened around me, pulling me in deeper, and for the first time in my life, I felt it—the raw, terrifying realization that I was gone for her. There was no coming back from this.

I braced my hands on either side of her, chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers as I forced myself to slow the hell down.

I needed to see her.

Her eyes locked onto mine, wide and dark, filled with something deeper than desire—trust.

And it nearly fucking broke me.

Because this wasn’t just sex. This was us.

Two people who had fought like hell to deny what was inevitable.

And now?

Now, there was no denying it at all.

I slid her pants down her legs, kissing every inch of skin I revealed—her ankle, her knee, the inside of her thigh. She trembled beneath my touch, her breath hitching as I traced my lips along the sensitive skin.

With a growl, I ripped the boy shorts she was wearing in two, tossing the scraps aside. She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise, but there was no fear in them—only desire.

I pulled out my cock, so damn hard for her. I stroked myself once, twice, and then slid inside of her slowly. Deeply.

And it was like coming home.

My eyes never left hers as I fucked her. I kept the slow, torturous pace, watching her face as she writhed beneath me. Her lips parted, her breath coming in short gasps as I filled her completely.

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