“Then let’s go to the bedroom.”
Sev keepshis promise once he’s tucked under the covers with me.
I’m the one having more trouble.
I’m lying down on my side and he’s there behind me, running his palm over my back and clearly trying to get me to relax.
But I push my ass up against the back of his thighs in bed.
I need it, and I’m too delirious to stop myself.
His heat is tantalizing even through the fabric and I’m trying to ignore how good it feels, how much I wish he could press me into this mattress and fuck me until I can’t think anymore.
“The window helps,” I tell him. Sev cracked the window in here when we came back in and the cool air is fresh and perfect on my skin. Now the bedroom is full of the same faint sound of crickets and the occasional frog.
“How many times have you come to the thought of me since the night of the party?” Sev says from behind me.
I pause for a moment and then shift in bed, turning over to face him while glaring daggers in his direction.
“Your ego could power a small city, you know that, Sev?”
“So could yours.”
“I’m not the one trying to lull you to sleep and then asking questions like that.”
His hand roams upward and he runs his hand along the front of my body, brushing over my nipples in a way that gives me goosebumps. He moves up to my collarbone, touching me like I’m precious.
How could I ever have thought his eyes looked cruel, or mean?
The way he’s looking at me now, with that luminous grey shining under the moonlight from the window, makes me feel like I’d give every piece of my soul to the man if I could.
Dangerous.
“I’ll tell you first, then,” he says, his lashes flicking down, then back up toward my gaze. “I’ve come to the thought of you a lot since the Zenith night.”
“Bullshit.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “You give good head, Knox. Seeing you across the table in the dining hall after that night I almost wanted to drag you into a bathroom stall and make you give it to me again.”
“God,” I groan, rubbing at my face.
He’s making me so fucking hard.
My cock, my nipples, every tense part of my body on high alert for him, like I’m hanging on every touch he gives me.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me,” he teases.
I drop my hands from my face and force myself to look at him again.
“Every time,” I say.
My voice comes out hesitantly, like I’m admitting a deep, dark truth.
“You’ve thought of me every single time you’ve come since that night?” he asks.
I sigh. “Why does it matter? It was hot. Obviously. It was the first time I did stuff like that with a guy, and it turns out I definitely wasn’t wrong about my attraction to men, so… why are you fucking smiling at me like that?”
He puffs out a laugh and I reach out to give his shoulder a little shove in bed.