Page 33 of Knox

“Yes, Knox! Yes!” She dropped to her elbows, the exaggerated arch of her back had me buried to the hilt. “Oh!”

I fucked her hard and fast against that table, one hand gripping a handful of her hair while the other snaked around her waist until it was buried between her legs, teasing her clit relentlessly. The only sound in the room was her moans mixed with the sound of me pounding into her, skin on skin. Hot. Raw.

I was out of my mind for this woman, feeling possessive and hungry and wild with need even though I was still buried in her tight cunt. It was incredible and I didn’t want it to end, but soon I felt the telltale clench around my cock.

“Knox, I’m—”

“I know, darlin’. Let go. Come all over my cock. Do it. Now.”

Her back arched dramatically and she cried out my name over and over again until every ounce of pleasure was wrung from her body. “Knox! Oh, yes!”

She was magnificent when she came apart, pulling me with her until I filled her up. Completely. My cock pumped until I was empty and only then, did I stop fucking her. “Ivy.” I smacked her ass cheeks before I slipped free. “I already want you again.”

She shivered, smiling at me over one shoulder. “Same, though I’m not sure I could handle it again. Not yet.” She squeezed me again.

I sighed, biting back the words I’d been about to say.

She pushed off the table and stepped out of her shorts.

I growled at the sight of her. “Keep that up and dinner will burn.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she disappeared down the hall and into the guest bathroom. Minutes later she came back with soft smile, but she was so silent I thought maybe she regretted it.

I watched her, loving the way she looked after she had my cock buried in her. Her skin glowed beautifully, warm and lit by the golden kitchen light. She moved slower, her steps more deliberate. She seemed so unbothered, almost serene as she finished dinner and put everything on the table. But something in her silence made me wonder what was on her mind.

“Are you having doubts?”

She blinked and looked up from her plate with a frown. “No. Are you?”

“Absolutely not. I want you, Ivy. I still do.”

Heat flared in her eyes. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” Her words came out soft, hesitant.

“You can tell me anything, Ivy.”

She nibbled her bottom lip, making it clear she was working up to something. “It’s about Rex. He’s into something he shouldn’t be, at least I think he is. I don’t know all of it, but what I do know is that he keeps two sets of books.”

I kept my expression steady. “We know he’s into something that he’s keeping something from his own fucking MC. That’s a good way to find himself dead.”

She nodded but there was no flicker of emotion at all. Not fear or sadness or even concern. “Rex is careful, but not as careful as he thinks.” She shook her head, fork paused above her plate. “I should have said something sooner.”

“You’re saying it now,” I tried to reassure her. This was a big fucking deal, her choosing me and my MC over her own damn father, even if he didn’t deserve the title. “Anything else?”

She nibbled her lip again. “He called me today. Whatever you said to him, scared him. Bad.”

A slow smile started at one corner of my mouth and worked its way to the other. “Good. That was my plan.” I still didn’t know how much she knew and until I did, I’d keep the details to myself. “I need to tell you something too, darlin’.” I set the glass down and waited until her eyes were on me. “But I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

“Okay.” She set her fork down and her hands fell to her lap, her expression so fucking wary I wanted to get up and go to her, to hold her while I gave her the bad news.

“Switch attempted to track down your mother’s gravesite.”

“Okay,” she repeated the word again, this time with an entirely different set of emotions.

I kept my gaze focused on every little change in her expression while I spoke. “There’s no grave for Magnolia Price anywhere in Colorado. No Magnolia Morel either.”

She nodded slowly but it wasn’t a nod of understanding, just acceptance. The color drained from her face and sadness filled her eyes.

It gutted me. “He looked beyond Colorado, into Nebraska. Utah. Kansas. Oklahoma. Nothing. No death record. No burial record. Nothing that put a woman named Magnolia, in any variation, in the ground in any state that bordered this one. I’m sorry.”