I stared at Knox, my heart sinking. I’d defaced his walls. Blood rushed to my face.
He set the silver tray down. I noticed with the part of my mind that was numb that there were two cups of something hot; the steam rose as he put the tray on the floor. He stood up and crossed the room quickly, his strides long and determined.
I was stammering out another apology when he reached me.
He pushed me back against the wall. Kissed my neck. I barely had time to breathe before his hands moved down, yanking the robe from my shoulders.
“Oh!” I cried. “You’re getting paint on your—ah!”
He bit at my neck, a bite on the shoulder as though he was claiming me. He buried his face in my hair, his hands pinning my arms back. The paint was still wet behind me, and cold for only a second before he licked
