He kisses me.
The kiss is slow and grounding and tastes like the Knox who laughed into my neck in the laundry room, not the Knox who f***s me through walls and snarls through plaster, and the tenderness of it makes my eyes burn because this man – this feral, possessive man who threatened to break Theo’s fingers over a handshake – is holding me like I’m something precious and the contradiction between what he is and what he does in moments like this is the thing that keeps me anchored to him even when Dominic’s precision pulls at me from the other direction.
He lays me down and his body covers mine and his weight is grounding in the way it was the first time. His hips settle between my legs, and the hardness of him through his jeans presses against me through my underwear in a way that th
