I could feel his need in the way he tore his kisses from my lips, his mouth burning on mine. I needed him, too. As he tore off his shirt, I stepped quickly out of my pants. He unbuckled his belt.
“God,” I said, gasping for breath. “I can’t—please—”
I turned, my hair sticking to the wet canvas. It was smudged beyond repair. Knox shoved my shoulder back, pinning me with his broad hand to the painting that was now completely wrecked.
“Oh, ohh—”
His lips pressed onto my neck again. His teeth nibbled the hard line of my collarbone all the way down to the hollow in the middle of my shoulders. I gave up trying to save the painting. It was lost. My hands threaded through his hair, pulling him close. I could feel his hardness through his pants. God, I was so wet.
How could a man do this? He tu
