Page 104 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

“Possibly,” I agreed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “But you love us, anyway.”

“Unfortunately,” she sassed, but there was no heat behind it. Just fondness and the kind of affection that made my damn chest ache.

I shot Marco a look. He caught it and grinned, and together, we shifted. Moved. Surrounded her.

She yelped as I tugged her down into the pillows, laughter spilling out of her as we followed, lips and hands and heat.

We didn’t let her go for a long time after that.

And when her moans replaced the ones printed on the lines of her book, when her eyes darkened with hunger and her smile turned sinful, when her hands clutched at us like lifelines—we gave her everything.

And me?

I was so fuckin’ gone for this girl in that completely wrecked, head over heels, twisted up in her—body and soul, completely whipped, and hopelessly in love kind of way.

And there wasn’t a damn thing in this world I’d trade for the way she broke me open and made me hers.

epilogue: marco

MARCO

I’d plannedthe whole thing days ago. Ordered the outfit. Cleaned the car—twice. Charged the camera. Checked my lighting setup in the garage. Again.

But none of that shit prepared me for the look on her face when she unwrapped the box and saw what I’d bought her.

Black leather lingerie. Smooth as sin. Laced up the back. Plunging low in the front. A hint of delicate lace that would expose just enough, leaving me hard the moment I imagined her in it.

Her lips parted, one finger brushing the material with wide eyes. “This is... um. Wow.”

I bit my lip, grinning like the devil. “You like it?”

She looked up at me, cheeks flushed that adorable pink. “You want me to wear this?”

“Oh yeah, Angel,” I murmured, leaning in. “I want tophotographyou in it. With my car.Onmy car. Photos just for us.”

Her whole face went up in flames.

I swear, the only thing better than watching her unwrap the damn thing was watching her try it on. She disappeared into the bathroom for what felt like a fuckin’ century, and when she finally emerged…

Fuuuuuck.

I almost dropped the camera right then.

“You look like every wet dream I’ve ever had,” I breathed, swallowing hard as I drank her in.

She squirmed under my gaze, biting her lip. “You sure I don’t look ridiculous?”

“Baby,” I growled, stepping close enough to tilt her chin up, “you look dangerous and sexy as sin.”

Her blushed deepened, but I saw it—underneath the nerves, she was curious. Excited. Brimming with anticipation as I led her down to the private garage beneath the penthouse. The rumble of the elevator along with my motor oil and leather scent helped set the mood.

The lighting was perfect. The car was spotless. And Kit? She was the fucking star.

Nerves got the best of her, and she started off hesitant—posing with her arms crossed, smiling shyly at the camera. But I kept coaching her, kept praising every shift, every smirk, every slow, sultry lean against the hood.

“You’re stunning,” I rasped between photos.

“You really think so?”

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