And he does.
The heat of him presses against me, the hard ridge of his erection blatant through his jeans. My breath snags.
His eyes flick to mine, then lower, devouring the sight of my parted thighs, the bottom of his T-shirt riding high.
He grinds once, slow, deliberate, dragging that thickness right against me. Sparks shoot through me and a broken whine slips out before I can stop it.
His mouth curves in a savage grin. “That what you want, Lily?”
I can’t speak, but my treacherous hips arch helplessly, seeking more. Seeking delicious friction I know he can provide.
He groans low, a sound like it’s been ripped out of him. But then he stills, pressing hard against me but not moving. Denying. Torturing.
“You don’t get what you want just for running your mouth,” he rasps. “You earn it.”
I whimper again, my thighs trembling around him.
He cups my jaw with his beastly hand, one thumb rough against my cheek. His other palm grips my hip, holding me down, stopping me from grinding back.
My body is on fire. My mind is chaos. All I can think is please. Please. Please.
But he pulls away. Slow. Deliberate.
“You know where the bathroom is since you’ve escaped from there twice now,” he says, voice rough but steady. “Spare toothbrush in the cabinet.”
I blink, stunned.
“Breakfast in fifteen minutes.” His gaze burns down into mine. “And don’t run, rabbit. Unless you don’t want to sit down right for a week. Or come on my tongue for two. I’ll still lick that pretty cunt, but it’d be a crying shame if you don’t get to cream for me.”
My thighs press tight together as he stalks away, leaving me wrecked and aching in his bed.
And I hate myself for it.
Because part of me doesn’t want to run anymore.
5
KNOX
The skillet hisses as venison crackles in butter.
I drop thick cuts of bread in the pan beside it, let the fat soak and sizzle. My hands move steady, but my head’s a storm.
Behind me, I hear the creak of the floorboards.
She pads in soft, hesitant. My little rabbit. No—Lily. She said her name’s Lily.
“Sit,” I order without turning.
The chair legs scrape. She obeys, but I can feel the heat of her stare against my back. Hate to admit it, but I love her feistiness. I’m not made for weak and simpering females.
The sensation of her gripping my hair, fucking my mouth as I ate her out last night threatens to chop me off at the knees. Should’ve rubbed one out as she slept. But no…from now on,everydrop of my cum belongs to my little rabbit.
I put the plate down in front of her, jar of water beside it. Then stare at the jug. Would she prefer coffee? Juice? Milk?
I grab two mugs of coffee, set one down before her with milk and sugar, and she shoots me a grateful look. “Thanks.”
That simple word sends a warm meteor through my chest. “Eat,” I say, rougher than I mean. When she hesitates, I narrowmy eyes. “You ate the stew yesterday, so I know you’re not vegetarian or nothin’.”
