CHAPTER 29

 

 

London

 

 

 

I love you, and I’m not letting you go.

The words echo through my head, and I stare into Knox’s heavy gray eyes. I shake my head. Did I hear him right?

“You love me?” It’s only a whisper.

He straightens suddenly, steps back, turns like he’s ready to run. I grab his hand. “Knox?”

He doesn’t look at me. “Yeah.”

“Oh, baby.” Part of me wants to sit there, hug the memory of the words to me and just let the amazement warm me. The rest of me can’t wait for that.

I push up off the bed, slide my arms around his waist, press myself against his back. “Oh, baby, I love you so much.” I kiss him between his shoulder blades. “So much. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before.”

He’s stiff, his spine straight and his muscles tense. I understand suddenly how hard it was for him to say the words. And first?

Wow.

“Me either,” he says finally. “Never thought I could.”

I kiss his back again and tighten my arms around his stomach. “I was so afraid, baby. So afraid you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want—”

“Dammit, English!” He turns in my arms. “Were you trying to protect me again?”

The question sounds odd. Half like he’s irritated, but the rest like he’s touched. Both are probably true, and I want to reassure him with a hug. But I have to be honest.

Always.

I drop my head back so I can look him straight in the eye when I say it. “No. I was protecting myself.”

I can’t miss the flicker of pain that darkens his gaze. “Yourself,” he mutters carefully.

Everything’s out between us, so it’s time to be brave. “It’s been there for a while now, but I couldn’t admit it to myself until I’d miscarried. You were so upset then, and I didn’t want to make it worse. For either of us. I didn’t think you could—would—forgive me, so it was better if I kept it to myself.”

He lets out a long, low breath, pain clear in its raggedness, and pulls me close. “I’m such an asshole.”

“No, baby, you’re not.” I kiss the place on his chest where his heart’s covered by a Wycked Obsession T-shirt. “I know better. You’re a man who takes care of those he loves, who protects them, and…sometimes makes mistakes. Just like the woman who loves you.”

“Jesus, English.”

He hauls me up his chest until I’m on my tiptoes. He takes my mouth in the first real, sexual kiss we’ve shared since our lives imploded, and I delight in its claiming nature. Knox licks my lips, again, and I open my mouth against his. His tongue pushes forward, and I suck him into my mouth.

Oh, God, the taste of him. I miss it whenever we’re apart. He strokes through the recesses of my mouth, around again, and I swirl my tongue up and over his. It remains a blatantly sexual kiss, and I want more.

I follow his lead, my tongue in his mouth, and I imitate the things he just did to me. He sucks on my tongue, pulls me deeper, and a soft moan of need escapes me. Oh, Lord. But I can’t help it. He’s making me feel things I’ve never felt.

Knowing he loves me and admitting I love him changes everything.

Awareness settles heavy in my core, and butterflies race through my stomach. Love. It doesn’t even come close to describing what I feel for this man.

“I need you,” he growls against my lips. “Whatever that means for tonight.”

I push my hands in his hair, kiss my way from his mouth, his jaw, his neck. “Whatever that means?” I whisper against his rough, unshaven skin.

He palms my ass, and the thick ridge of his cock presses against my mound. Bloody goddamn clothes, always in the way. He pulls back enough to cast a serious gaze over me. “After…everything. I wasn’t sure if it’s…okay. You know. The physical stuff.”

“Oh.” I smile tenderly. He’s sweet, sounding so uncertain. I know it isn’t about having sex; the man who greeted me with his cock on display isn’t shy about fucking. It’s about the baby, the loss.

“It’s okay, luv.” I arch up on my tiptoes for another earth-shattering kiss. “The doctor gave me instructions. I just have to be careful of infection, so we have to use a condom.”

“Like we should have from the beginning.”

“Knox…” He looks as sad as I feel, and I stroke my fingers gently over his cheek. “Not now. Okay? Tonight let’s just be us. Together and—” I’m almost afraid to say it “—in love.”

“In love.” He repeats the words, sounding both growly and almost curious at the same time. “In love,” he says it again, and laughs this time. “How the fuck did that happen? What’d you do to me, English?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

He kisses me again, and I feel his fingers fumble over my back. “As much as I love this dress on you,” he pants when he pulls away, “it has to come off.”

He tugs the zipper down, pushes the boatneck bodice over my arms, and the whole thing catches at my hips. Knox doesn’t seem to notice, because he’s staring at my bra. Well, my breasts, I suppose, but they’re covered by the sexiest lingerie I own. A see-through scrap of tulle that’s decorated with a little bit of lace. My still-hidden thong matches.

Instinct urged me to put them on tonight.

“Jesus Christ.” He reaches for me, his fingers light as they run along the upper curve of my breasts, down over my nipples. They were puckered with excitement to begin with; now they’re so stiff, they ache. “You are so damn beautiful,” he says, and takes my mouth in another mind-blowing kiss.

Panting, I push the dress down my hips, step out of it, and kick it aside. I’m in flat gladiator sandals, easier to maneuver in when I’m racing around backstage, and I’ve never gotten them off so fast. I toss them across the room.

“Fuuuuck,” says Knox when I straighten and stand with unexpected nerves before him. He swallows and rubs his palm over the bulge in his pants. “You’re so beautiful, English, you’re gonna kill me.”

I smile and feel myself grow wet, knowing how much he wants me. How much I want him. It’s…different, and a little scary, this first time together again.

I’ve never wanted anything—anyone—more.

I push his T-shirt up over his head, kiss a lingering path down his chest until I sink to my knees. I kiss his stomach as I work my fingers at the fastening of his leather pants. Between my trembling hands, his hard-on, and the leather, nothing cooperates.

“Bollocks,” I snap as I keep working. “Why do rock stars have to wear leather pants?”

He laughs hoarsely and takes over, freeing his cock. He shoves his pants down in mere seconds, but I grab at his feet. “Boots, Knox,” I mutter.

He steps back, gets rid of pants, boots, socks, and then he’s as gloriously naked as I am.

Finally.

“Up, baby.” He pulls me to my feet, his hands supporting me under my arms.

I can see his hard dick, and I try to reach for him, but I can’t manage it. “No, I—”

“Uh, uh.” He smiles and backs me slowly toward the bed. “Tonight it’s about you.”

“Me?”

His hands wrapped around my waist, he lowers me to the mattress. He strokes his thumbs up over my ribs. “I know you aren’t healed yet, baby. And as much as I would love to tie you up and pound the fuck into you—” he grins “—it’s not happening tonight.”

“God, Knox.” Warmth settles in my core, and my panties are soaked.

He kneels before me. “As sexy as this fucking bra looks on you, I need to see your tits, baby.” He pushes the straps down over my arms and flicks the back clasp open. The scrap of fabric falls from my chest, and he tosses it across the room.

His eyes are dark, flooded with desire. Maybe that’s what makes me brave. I don’t plan it but find my hands on my breasts. I push them together and arch my back, offering myself for Knox’s hands, his mouth.

“Jesus, baby.”

He takes one nipple in his mouth, swirls his tongue around the areola, moving closer to the center until it drags over the crest. I gasp as he closes his teeth over me, his fingers imitating the same actions on my other breast, until he pinches my nipple and sensation soars straight to my clit.

“You like that, don’t you?” he mutters as he switches sides. “You’ve got amazing, sensitive tits.” He does the same sucking, biting, pinching, and I moan my approval as I push my breasts at him.

Knox laughs, does it again, again, and I’m a bundle of nerve endings centered on my nipples, with a heightened connection straight to my pussy. God.

“Someday I’m gonna make you come just by sucking on your tits.”

I wheeze a ragged breath. “Can…you do that?”

He leans back enough to catch my dreamy gaze. “Maybe most men can’t.” He strokes a thumb over each nipple, and—God, I can’t help it!—I flex my hips. “But you and me, baby? I can.”

He drags his hands down my sides, my hips, my thighs, and pushes my legs apart. “Let me in, baby. I need a taste.”

“What?” I don’t know what I’m saying.

“You.” He slips his fingers under the elastic of my thong, tugging, and not even the sound of ripping fabric can bring me out of my stupor. “Let me taste you.”

His shoulders widen my legs farther, and then his tongue is there, stroking over my lower lips, my clit. Did that guttural-sounding moan come from me?

“God, baby, you’re soaked.” He licks me from bottom to top. “And you taste so. Fucking. Good.”

His mouth works me, his tongue working up and down and his teeth scraping lightly over my clit. Sensation roars through me, making my legs twitch, and I have to lean back on my elbows. I take most of my weight on my uninjured side, but even if my ribs ached like holy hell, I wouldn’t stop him.

His mouth is making love to my pussy.

“Knox,” I breathe and rest one hand at the back of his head.

He pulls away long enough to ask, “You like that, baby?”

I nod, but then I lose my breath again when he slips one finger into me. He uses his tongue to toy with my clit, moving his finger in and out, and then, suddenly, there are two. Three.

I groan.

“You like that, too, baby.” This time it isn’t a question.

I try to say yes, but I can only flex my hips with the movement of his hand. And, yeah, my ribs twinge, but I don’t care.

I find a breath. “I need you, Knox. Inside me.”

He strokes his tongue over my clit. “Oh, I will be, baby.” He gives his own little groan. “Believe me. But first…” His fingers plunge in and out, and his teeth drag over my clit. “First I want you to come on my tongue. My fingers.”

He does it again and again, and I can’t help myself. I fall back onto the bed, my hands on my breasts as I pluck at my nipples. God, I need this. I need…something. Knox inside of me, but the edge of my orgasm is creeping closer.

How does he do that? Make me come so hard and so fast? No other man has ever done that for me.

But no other man has been Knox Gallagher. And I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him.

“Knox!” I can’t help it. It’s almost a scream, and my hand shoots to the back of his head. I hold him there and thrust my hips against his mouth.

“You ready, baby?” he murmurs against me, and then his teeth clamp down hard on my clit.

“Yes, baby. Oh, God, yes!”

His fingers push in and out, and my orgasm rolls over me like a tidal wave. Words tumble from my lips, but I don’t know if they make any sense.

Knox.

I love you.

Don’t stop.

It could be any—or all—of them, but I can’t make sense of anything besides the overwhelming sensation of satisfaction that holds me in its grip. My pussy pulses, my nipples tingle, and my whole body soars.

He kisses me through my orgasm. That is, his mouth stays pressed against my lower lips, stroking and kissing and bringing me back to awareness.

I huff out a quick sigh, brush my fingers over his hair. “Knox. Baby, that was…”

He moves, dragging his open mouth up my body until he reaches my throat. He licks where he must be able to feel my pulse, bites softly at my neck, my jaw. “Speechless, baby?”

“Yeah.” I’d laugh if I could, but these amazing little twitches keep my body on edge.

He kisses me, deep and hard, his tongue dragging over mine to fill me with my own taste mingled with his breath, his unique flavor. My body clenches with remembered passion.

“I need you, Knox.” I say the words against his mouth. “Inside me.”

“Like this?” He teases me with his tongue between my lips.

“Yes. No,” I groan. “God, no. I need you to fuck me, baby. You know…”

I’ve become braver about dirty talk since I’ve been with Knox. It floods my pussy, tightens my nipples when he does it, so I think he must like it, too. It seems pretty certain when he scoops me up into his arms and slides me to the middle of the bed.

He leaves me with a kiss, fingers stroking over my pussy, his thumb on my clit. My body responds instantly…only to have him disappear.

“Knox?” I whine, and then he’s back, standing next to the bed.

Condom. I notice he’s sheathed, and I nod once. Jesus, I forgot—but he remembered. Keeping me safe. I can read the importance of it in his dark and stormy eyes.

“See what you do to me, baby?” he asks as he just stands there. “You haven’t touched me, and my dick is hard as granite. Fuck, harder. I could cut diamonds with it.”

I smile and move with what I hope is a sensual twist. “Forget granite, forget diamonds. Just come inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

He doesn’t move, just stares at me like he’s never seen me before.

“I could never do it with you,” he says sounding oddly awestruck.

“What?”

“All the others? The chicks whose names and faces I’ll never remember? I didn’t give a shit. I was never there. Wasn’t even an exchange of pleasure. There was an expectation. I’d make them come, and I could get off. Release some tension or…whatever.”

He blinks. Swallows. Continues. “So I figured out how to make it work. Tie ‘em up. Blindfold ‘em. Spank ‘em. Whatever. It added some interest, some excitement, and then there were more expectations. It became my kink.”

He shakes his head. “But with you…I could never do it. It was never right. I needed more from you. Wanted to give you more.” He sighs. “Just couldn’t understand it until I knew I loved you. That shit was okay for a one-and-done girl, but not for you. Not for my English.”

“Knox.” I swallow back the oddest tears that prickle behind my eyelids and threaten to choke me. I try to smile. “That’s probably the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He gives a disbelieving snort and smiles, just a little. “Gonna have to work on my game, then, English.”

He moves then, kneeling on the bed until he’s crouched between my legs. Knees bent, I open them as wide as I can and arch my hips. “C’mon, baby. I need you.”

He strokes two fingers over my pussy, up and down like he did with his tongue. “You’re still wet.”

“For you, baby. Only for you.”

He strokes some of my wetness over the condom, and the sight of his hand moving up and down his cock gets me wetter. I gasp. Who knew Knox Gallagher could be such a tease.

“You ready?” he demands as he slides the tip of his dick into me.

“Yes!” I arch toward him, and then he fills me, inch by slow inch. Finally, finally, he’s in all the way.

“Okay?”

“Yes.” I breathe suddenly, no clue that I’d stopped. He’s so big, I’m so full, and I’ve never felt more complete.

He pulls back slowly, pushes forward just as slowly, and then does it again. Again. Again. Long, slow strokes that drag over my highly sensitized clit and send a flurry of nerve endings into  overdrive.

“Knox. Baby.” It’s more gasp than actual speech, and I reach for him, wherever I can touch him.

He grabs my hands in his and leans forward, taking my arms with him so they’re stretched out above my head. Our fingers are linked, and his tighten around mine as he maintains that slow, maddening pace.

“English.” He bends down to kiss me, the same leisurely pace as the rest of his body. “Look at me, baby.”

I do, and I see the whole world in his eyes. Love, sorrow, guilt, redemption. It’s all there, and it completes me like the last piece of the puzzle that’s been my life. We share those things. They make us who we are. They give us the ability to heal ourselves…and each other.

I squeeze his fingers and flex my hips as much as I can. “I love you, Knox.”

He smiles, but it’s short lived as he surges back into me. “I love you, too, baby.”

“Now.” I shift against him. “Will you please fuck me properly?”

He pulls his hands from mine, leans back, grabs my hips, and thrusts deeper. Deep enough to make me gasp. Deep enough to hit my cervix.

“Always, baby.” He drops forward for a kiss that goes deeper. “Always.