Page 85 of Bad Wolf

Eventually, Knox pulls away and draws in a ragged breath.

“Fuck, Wren, do you want me to go? I need you to tell me right this fucking second.”

All thoughts about how much of a bad idea this could be fly out the window.

The voice of reason that’s telling me we need to take baby steps, that we need to rebuild our foundation, is silenced by the look he’s giving me.

My eyes meet his gorgeous blues. It’s so careless, but I’ve never been more sure of anything.

“I want you to stay and take whatever it was that brought you to this door, even after what we agreed to in the car.”

His eyes darken, and his fingers trace the column of my throat. And squeeze.

His fingers flex for just a second, but the pressure is enough to flood my panties.

I gasp. A trick switch I never knew existed.

And now he’s found it. I watch as his eyes intensify to a midnight blue. His Adam’s apple bounces as he swallows and with a voice laced with grit and gravel, so low it makes my nerve endings vibrate, he takes exactly what he needs from me.

“On your knees, Wren,”

I go willingly, my body sliding down that door at a pace that shocks us both. I guess he thought I’d balk, but I want this. I want this so much, and I’d do just about anything after that kiss. After, well, whatever the hell that was then.

“Good girl,” he groans.

I pop the button and reach for the fly on his expensive jeans, not looking at the zipper, but up at him instead. He shakes his head and smirks, a smirk I remember well, while he widens his stance and gathers my hair with his hands again.

I take my time pulling the material apart and lowering it until it sits just under his perfect ass. I stroke him over his black boxers, and he jolts with a shiver.

“Fuck.”

My fingers tentatively climb up to the elastic of the waistband, dipping inside. What I find waiting for me is thick and swollen and oh so big it makes my mouth water. Keeping a hold of his cock with my left hand, I push his briefs down so they meet the denim.

You’d think there was nothing romantic about this moment, you’d think I’d want this to be softer, exploratory, and innocent after all the time that’s passed.

And I’d say if this was anyone else, I’d have slapped him around the face and told him where to shove it. But the look in his eyes, the one that tells me how badly he wants me.

The heated way he stares at me, how long he’s waited, has me parting my lips and tracing the vein that runs the length of his erection with my tongue and lapping at the precum that’s beginning to bead at the tip.

“Ho-ly fuck!” he hisses.

I do it again.

“Just like that, Wren. Shit, just like that,” he praises, and it sets me alight.

Little flashes of memory start to shutter behind my closed eyes and I follow them like a road map to Knox’s pleasure.

I cup his balls, he moans. Run my lips up and down his shaft and he sighs, and just when he starts to lean into it, plateau out on his arousal, I take his whole length into my mouth and swallow.

“Nugh. Take it, Baby, fuckin’ take all of it. Show me how much you missed me. How much you missed this cock.”

I do everything I remember he loves. I bob and suck, take him as far as I can go, and do it all over again. When I’ve got him good and worked up, I use my hand on him too.

Bringing it to meet my lips, I want to touch myself, the ache between my legs almost as consuming as Knox standing before me, but I don’t want to take my focus from him.

This is all for him.

He starts to thrust, shallow at first, and then when I moan and blink up at him his hips start to snap.

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