Her nails scrape over my scalp, score my shoulders. She undulates and writhes beneath my mouth—trying to get closer or escape me, shit, I don’t know. But since her choking screams pepper my ears, and she’s grinding her flesh against my mouth, I’m going with getting closer.
“Knox, oh God, please. Please. Harder. More,” she begs in a hoarse, almost broken voice.
Definitely getting closer.
I give her what she’s pleading for.
Without hesitation, I drive two fingers deep. And damn near howl at the immediate vise-grip of her slick, smooth, muscular walls. My cock, fully recovered and stiff against my lower stomach, pounds in jealousy. It wants in this snug, hot embrace. Yeah, can’t blame it.
Lowering my head, I trail the tip of my tongue along the path at the back of her pussy, following the smooth patch to the puckered hole hidden between her ass. She stiffens, displaying the first signs of uncertainty since I put my mouth on her. Doesn’t stop me from tracing the back entrance, from dipping just inside.
“Knox,” she objects, pushing at my head, and I lift my mouth but replace it with my finger. Not entering but tapping it, delicately circling it. Teasing her with the knowledge that I want in that forbidden tight channel I suspect no one has breached. The realization roars through me with a primal surge that should be a warning I’m headed too far, too deep into this…whatever it is between us.
Rearing up, I latch onto her clit, flick and stab the flesh with the stiffened point of my tongue. Abandoning her ass—for now—I shift my touch back to her sex and drive inside. Finger-fuck her.Goddamn. I could do this all night. Screw that. Forever. Just set up camp and establish a frontier town right here between her slender, toned thighs. But her steady stream of cries, her desperate clutching of my head and frantic thrusts of her hips telegraph she’s close and isn’t going to last. And no matter what I crave, she comes first. Besides, I long to feel that bruising, orgasmic grip again. Want to hear that keening wail. Am hungry to witness the flush and swell of her folds while in the middle of a release.
I capture her clit between my lips, graze it with my teeth. Lightly bite it. Just hard enough to inflict the edge of pain while my fingertips press against and massage that place high up in her core that will set her off like a bomb.
It does. She detonates. And it’s beautiful.
She’sbeautiful.
I don’t let up on her, ensuring she receives every last shudder and shake. Only then do I reluctantly straighten, knowing surrender to the urge to continue licking and sucking might be too much for her sensitive flesh. The thought of her discomfort is the one thing that can curb this lust ripping at me.
Standing, I stare down at her. Half-naked, legs still sprawled wide, chest rising and falling on deep, loud breaths… Hair tousled and tangled around her shoulders, neck, and face… Eyes closed as she drifts off to sleep, lashes a dark fringe… For years, I’ve imagined how she’d looked after having my face between her legs, her taste in my mouth, on my tongue. Nothing my mind conjured can compare with reality. Those past images are blurred, black and white photos, while she is cast in such vivid color and HD clarity, it hurts my eyes.
Unease and a fuck load ofWhat the hell am I doing?floods me in a roaring deluge.
Promise me. You promise me, Knox.
The words, the demand sneaks inside my head and refuses to be evicted. Tipping my head back, I wipe my palm across my lips and chin, smelling her on my skin, and it’s both a gift and an indictment. The roots of my disquiet and guilt burrow deeper, the gnarled vines twining around my rib cage, my heart, every organ. Because as pleasure and satisfaction ebb, I can’t block out the voice that whispers I had no business, no right touching her, enjoying her. That if she had any idea of the truth, there’s no way in hell she would’ve put her mouth on me. Let me put mine on her.
Eden, Jude, Simon, Jake—they’ve all assured me I shouldn’t carry the burden of Connor’s death. But none of them know I could’ve stopped that last fight, but I didn’t. Connor had been a good fighter; though he’d chosen to attend college, he’d always trained alongside me. And when he’d entered the BFC, he’d been more skilled than most rookies. But he hadn’t been ready for that match. Two years of fighting professionally hadn’t been long enough to face light heavyweight champion Jordan McNamara. But the powers that be had wanted to promote an event that included both Gordon brothers. Initially, I’d tried to talk Connor out of it, but he’d been stubborn, a trait all of us had inherited from Dad. The truth is, I’d had enough pull at the time that I could’ve had them cancel his match. Especially if I’d refused to fight.
But I hadn’t.
Several reasons had halted me from pulling that trigger: Connor would’ve been pissed, and that’s putting it lightly; I’d liked the idea of us fighting together in the same event for the first time; and preventing his fight from happening would’ve meant canceling mine. I hadn’t wanted to forfeit the match against Israel Clarkson, three-time former BFC heavyweight champion. Beating him would’ve helped solidify my reputation and career as one of the best in the sport.
Well, I had defeated Clarkson, and my brother had died.
Because of my ambition, I saved my title but lost one of the people I loved most.
And now, here I stand over his wife—the woman I’ve secretly coveted for five years—being selfish again.
I grind my teeth together so hard a twinge of discomfort echoes along my jaw.
If Eden had the full truth available to her—how I failed Connor, failed her, failed my family—would she have knelt so eagerly between my legs? Let me fill her mouth, take her throat? Allowed me to spread her open and fuck her with my tongue?
Or would she have leveled me with the grief, betrayal, and hate in her eyes that jerked me awake, sweating and heart hammering, in the middle of the night?
I don’t know.
But it doesn’t matter because there’s one certain thing that can’t be denied. Idoknow the truth. And I should’ve kept my distance from her. Maintained a brother-and-sister-in-law relationship. I don’t deserve to try and grab for more, even if it’s just realizing the fantasy of touching her.
Even if it means forcing distance, physical and emotional, between us, I have to—because indulging inthisagain isn’t an option.
Ignoring the aching clench in my chest, I bend down and slide my arms under her thighs and shoulders. She doesn’t lift her lashes but cuddles closer to me as I pick her up. The pinch tightens, but I head toward the short hallway off the living room. Seconds later, I enter her bedroom door and lay her on the bed Jude and I put together only an hour earlier.
She doesn’t wake as I slip the sheet over her and close the door behind me.
