Page 35 of Evolved

He hisses my name, lips and teeth, and tongue against theshell of my ear. “So wet. Jesus, fuck, you’re so wet.”

I nod, insensate, turning toward him, finding his mouth with mine over my shoulder.

I wasn’t brave enough before, but I’m too far gone to worry or fear anymore. All that’s left of me is burning need.

It’s the first kiss I’ve ever initiated in my life, and it’s a heady thing, our lips already parted, a hot collision, almost a clash. Not a first kiss at all, something bigger, more determined, wet and punctuated by sharp breathing. The feel of his tongue on mine, the taste of him.

His finger slides all the way inside me, too much and not enough, as he rolls me under him, settling between my parted thighs, another finger filling me, pushing deep.

He’s above me now, looming over me, and we’re using our feet and knees to get my pants down. I kick them off my ankles. Cold air touches my skin, our mouths still connected though we’re barely kissing, more sharing air, my hands hungry and everywhere.

I’ve been looking at him for so long, but looking at Knox is nothing like touching him. Smooth velvet skin, hard bunching muscles, hair where I want it, in all the places it should be, coarse under my fingers.

His lips leave my mouth, slide down my neck, hot again, so hot, leaving cold that evaporates and draws goosebumps in their wake, down to my breasts, where my nipples are almost painfully contracted from the chilly air and his touch.

I’ve never felt this need before, but it’s there. Ineedto get my nipple into his mouth like I need to breathe, and the relief when I do has me panting, chanting into the night.

I’m sayingyesandGodandpleaseandKnoxandkeep going,andI need you, I need you, I need you.

Because I do.

Badly.

Dizzy, rocking, clutching, reaching into his sweatpants because there’s something else I need.

I need it more than my breast in his mouth or his fingers inside me.

I need him.

I need him the way you need someone in the dark after the world ended—when he’s not just the only man, he’s thebestman, and he’s earned trust with patience and love with smiles, and he has cookies and he cleans wet guns, and he listens to me when I talk, and of all the people who ever looked at me, a woman who writes speeches that other people reads,he sees me.

He’s always seen me.

More clearly.

Too clearly.

And he makes me safe, and he protects my grandmother, and he smells like life in a world gone dead, and he makes me want to live. And I hope I give him something back. I hope he knows if Gran asks him to fight, I’ll be beside him.

He’s so hard, hot in my hand, thick and long, and I’m pulling him closer.

But then he’s gone, going lower, pressing me back, his mouth finding the sensitive place I was touching before.

“Let me,” he breathes, breath fluttering over the cool skin of my quivering belly, his fingers stroking deep, tongue rolling.

At that moment, I’d let him do anything, let him have anything if he’d shove his way inside me and chase all the loneliness and fear away.

“Don’t stop.” My fingers slip into his hair, my calves coming up to rest on his back. “Oh god, don’t stop. Knox.”

The orgasm hits obliteratingly hard, like a dark curtain blocking out sight and sound and leaving me in a full body flushwith twitching toes, unspeakable, incoherent.

I’m still sputtering when he’s above me again, his fist wrapped around himself.

I reach for him, but I’m too late.

A wet heat splatters across my belly and thighs as he chokes out his own release, and even though I feel more sated than I’ve felt in my life, something about all of it leaves me empty until he drops his body over mine, covering me, and his lips find my neck, warmth and weight and the closest to rapture I’ve ever been.

He’s sweaty.

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