All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(37)

Until she had confronted someone she wanted so badly her body ached and hummed. He felt so good against her it was frightening.

With a frustrated choke, Briar turned, squeezing between him and the hard edge of the counter. He looked down at her, so much taller, bigger, the blue of his eyes almost black as he gazed hotly at her.

He still braced his hands against the counter’s edge, caging her in. He ate up all the space in her small kitchen.

“Knox,” she whispered, a thread of wonder in her voice as she flattened a hand against his chest. She stopped just short of begging him to give her his mouth. His heart beat hard against her palm, but surely hers beat harder. She felt so awkward. Almost like she didn’t know what to do next, which was silly. She’d done this before even if it was a long time ago. Even if it had never been with anyone like him.

Maybe that was just it. It had never been with anyone like him. Her hand smoothed its way up his shirt, stopping at the hard curve of his shoulder. She rose up on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his exposed neck. He tensed as she feathered tiny kisses along the bristly edge of his jaw until she reached the corner of his mouth.

Air shuddered from her at arriving there—at the mouth that rarely smiled. At least before. In the prison. Here, it was different. Everything was different. They were alone and she could have him. She could touch her mouth to his. See for herself if it felt soft or hard, cold or warm.

She stretched higher on her tiptoes and slanted her mouth across his more fully. His lips were soft. Firm and dry. Her chest squeezed with a desperate desire for him to kiss her back. For her to do it right so that she pleased him.

She started to sink back on her heels, disappointment pumping through her at his lack of response. And shame. Shame that she had thrown herself at him and he didn’t want what she was offering. She didn’t arouse him.

His head dipped then, swiftly catching her mouth before she was fully gone from him.

“Where are you going?” he growled against her lips.

He snatched her by the waist with both hands and picked her up and plopped her onto the counter before she could draw a breath. The motion positioned them more evenly, brought their lips level. He settled one hand at her waist, gripping her there while his other hand sank into her hair, his fingers curling around her skull and pulling her in, drawing her closer until their mouths were fused.

She gasped and his tongue entered her mouth, slicked over hers in total possession. She leaned in, moaning, tangling her tongue with his, tasting something faintly lemon on him and wondering what he had eaten. He tasted so good. Lemon, a faint saltiness, and man. Sex. She tasted sex on his tongue and the pleasure to come. She curled both her fingers into his shoulders, clinging to him and pulling him closer.

He made a deep sound in his throat and kissed her deeper, his fingers clenching tighter around the back of her head. She touched his face, the bristle of hair on his cheek a delicious scrape that ran right through her. They kissed and kissed and kissed. She didn’t know kissing could be like this. So drugging. So addictive. Simultaneously endless and not enough.

His hand on her waist moved up and palmed her breast over her shirt. Sensation shot through her and Briar moaned into his mouth, pushing into his big palm.

“Christ,” he muttered against her lips, pulling back. His hand left her hair, too. She whimpered at the loss of him, but it was only temporary. He grabbed the hem of her shirt. Seizing it, he yanked it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up on her counter. No bra. God, why hadn’t she worn a bra?

His eyes went to her chest. “Fuuuck.”

Her hands instinctively dove for her breasts, but hard fingers circled her wrists, exerting only the slightest pressure, but she was fully aware of his power, the strength in his big hands as he tugged her hands down.

“Don’t,” he commanded. “I want to see you.”

Knox shook his head once, his blue eyes dark and intent on her, moving from her face and down the slope of her throat to her breasts again. Trembling, she didn’t know if it was more from his gaze or his words. The deep sound of his voice spiked her desire higher, twisting it into something almost painful between her legs. She felt her nipples tighten under his stare.

He slowly eased his hands away from her wrists, and this time she didn’t try to cover herself. She held up her chin, closing her fingers around the edge of the counter, clutching tightly to stop herself from covering her body up again.

She tried to block out her embarrassment and focus on him. It worked. She was so busy watching him watch her, reveling in his stark beauty, the intensity of those deep-set eyes on her, the brutal slash of his sexy mouth, that she didn’t at first realize what he was doing with his hands. One of his hands reached for the nearby bowl. He dipped two fingers into the melting Cherry Garcia, scooping a small amount and carrying it to one of her nipples.

She gasped at the wet coldness.

His deep voice rippled through her. “Tonight these are mine . . . you’re mine, Briar.”

She could only nod senselessly as he rolled both fingers over her rigid nipple. Back and forth, back and forth, toying with the peak, making the point grow harder with every swirl of his slick fingers.

She made a choked sound and dropped her head back on her shoulders, thrusting out her chest.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he growled.

Then she felt him at her other breast, rolling more ice cream on that rapidly hardening nipple. “Wh-what are you—” Her voice died on a squeak as he pinched her slippery nipple. She felt a rush of wetness between her legs and she squirmed on the countertop, desperate for relief, for an end to the ache growing there.