Page 28 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Josie

I don’t remember moving.

One second, Knox is looking at me like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, and the next, his mouth is on mine, and I’m gone.

It isn’t gentle.

It isn’t careful.

It’s like a dam bursting open.

And the moment it starts, I don’t want it to stop.

I don’t care about the lights still glowing outside the window.

Or the way the whole house smells like cider and nostalgia.

I don’t care that my hands are shaking or that I had every intention of telling him the truth tonight.

Because when he kisses me, everything else fades.

The fear.

The what-ifs.

The secret curled beneath my ribs.

Gone.

His lips are warm and rough, and the way he kisses me, like he’s been waiting for permission, makes my chest ache and bloom at the same time. His hands frame my face like I’m precious. Like I belong to him, somehow.

And I let him.

I let myself lean in.

Melt.

Forget.

I grab the hem of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me upright, and when he pulls back to breathe, I chase him without thinking.

“Josie,” he says, voice low and wrecked. “I need you.”

My forehead rests against his. My lips are swollen, my breath shaky, but my answer is steady.

“Then follow me.”

That’s all it takes.

We’re moving. Clumsy, desperate, bumping into doorframes and half laughing between kisses that don’t know how to end. His hands are everywhere, my waist, my back, threading into my hair like he’s trying to memorize me by touch.

We barely make it to the stairs.

I tangle my fingers in his and pull him after me, step by step, heart pounding in my throat. We don’t stop kissing. Not once. We pause for a breath, a heartbeat, a look that says this is real, and then it’s mouth to mouth again, greedy and aching and so much more than just attraction.

By the time we reach my bedroom, I’m shaking.

Not with nerves.

With need .

And I know I should tell him.

I should stop, sit him down, and say the words I’ve been carrying like a ticking clock: I’m pregnant.

But I don’t.

I kiss him harder instead.

Because right now, this is all I can handle.

Right now, I need to feel something that isn’t fear.

Right now, I need to remember what it feels like to want something without guilt curling around the edges.

And I want him.

Someone help me, I want him.

Inside my room, the door clicks shut behind us, and for a second, the silence stretches, thick with want, charged and humming.

I step back from him, breathless, and try to make a move that feels confident and cool, like I know exactly what I’m doing.

Except I don’t.

Because when I reach for the hem of my sweater to pull it off in one smooth, seductive motion, it decides to betray me completely.

One arm gets stuck. Then the neckline folds in on itself.

I try to shimmy out of it, but my elbow jerks at a weird angle and…

nope. Now it’s over my head, halfway off, tangled like a knitted straitjacket.

I let out a muffled groan.

“Ugh. Sexy and graceful. That’s me.”

I finally yank it free with a dramatic huff, my hair standing up like I’ve been electrocuted. My cheeks burn as I toss the sweater aside and try not to look like I want the floor to swallow me whole.

But then I hear him laugh.

Not a smirk. Not a condescending chuckle.

A real laugh. Low and warm and fond.

And when I finally meet his eyes, he’s looking at me like I hung the stars.

“Sexy and graceful,” Knox says, stepping toward me, his voice like smoke and honey. “You forgot adorable . And completely lethal to my self-control.”

My breath catches. Whatever mortification I had fizzles out as his hands slide to my waist, grounding me in the best possible way.

“I’m serious,” he murmurs, dipping his head, his lips brushing my cheek, my jaw, the corner of my mouth. “You could’ve walked in here wearing a paper bag and tripped over a chair, and I’d still want you so bad it hurts.”

This time, when I reach for him, my hands find his shirt, soft cotton stretched over warm, solid muscle.

I slip my fingers beneath the hem, and he lets me, watching me like he’s memorizing every move.

I lift it slowly, revealing inch after inch of him, my breath catching when the fabric clears the tattoos I can’t get enough of.

Knox helps, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.

Damn.

He really is gorgeous, isn’t he?

I trail my hands across his chest, fingers skating over the ink that sprawls across his skin, and he shudders under my touch. Then his hands are on my hips, guiding me gently, reverently, like he’s not in a rush, like unwrapping me is something sacred.

I feel it too.

He tugs me close again, kissing me deep, slow, and searching, like he’s trying to speak in a language made only of mouths and hands and soft gasps in the dark.

My jeans are next. He unbuttons them without breaking the kiss, and I kick them off, not even caring when they get caught around my ankle for a second. We laugh into each other, breathless, and he pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Still sexy and graceful,” he says, voice rough with want.

“Shut up and take your pants off,” I whisper.

He grins and does exactly that.

And then, someone help me, he’s naked, and I forget how to breathe.

There’s a beat of silence where I just look. At all of him.

Not just the inked lines of his body or the heavy weight of his cock, though yeah, that’s impressive enough to make my mouth water, but the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m something he can’t believe he gets to touch. Like I’m the thing he wants more than anything.

It does something to me.

Flips a switch I didn’t know I had.

I step toward him until I’m right between his legs, and he’s watching me with barely restrained hunger. I press my hands to his thighs and push gently, guiding him back onto the bed so he’s sitting up against the headboard, legs spread wide, that gorgeous body on full display just for me.

His eyes darken as I drop to my knees at the edge of the bed.

“Josie,” he says, voice rough. A warning. A plea.

I just smile.

“I want to taste you.”

His breath hitches like I’ve punched it out of him.

I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock, loving the way he jerks in my hand, hot and heavy and already leaking.

I stroke him once, slow and teasing, then lower my mouth and lick a firm line from base to tip, my tongue swirling around the head before I suck it gently between my lips.

Knox groans. One hand fists in the sheets. The other finds my hair, not guiding, just there, like he needs the connection.

I take more of him into my mouth, inch by inch, until my lips are stretched wide and he’s hitting the back of my throat. I breathe through my nose and let my throat relax, swallowing around him as my fingers stroke the base and cradle the weight of him.

“Fuck, Josie.” His voice breaks. “That’s… damn, you feel good.”

I hum in response, and the vibration makes him shudder.

He’s barely holding on, every muscle in his body pulled tight like a live wire, but he doesn’t push. He lets me set the pace, lets me worship him the way I want. I bob my head, slow and steady, sucking deeper each time, until I’m drooling around him, until I can feel him throb in my mouth.

And the way he watches me, eyes locked on mine like he’s not sure if this is real, makes the heat in my belly coil tighter and tighter.

“Josie, baby, if you don’t stop, I’m not gonna last.”

I pull off with a wet pop and a wicked smile, licking my lips as I look up at him.

“Not yet,” I whisper. “I want you inside me when you come.”

And just like that, the man moves.

One second I’m on my knees, and the next, he’s hauling me up into his lap, mouth crashing into mine like he’s done waiting. We kiss deep and dirty, tasting each other, every drag of his tongue making my whole body pulse.

He lays me back on the bed, climbing over me like a storm, one big hand sliding down my thigh as he groans, “You trying to kill me?”

“Maybe a little,” I pant, laughing breathlessly as I hook my legs around his hips.

He slides inside me in one long, perfect thrust, and everything else disappears.

I gasp, arching into him, already full and stretched in the best way. He fills me completely, like he was made to fit, like my body has been waiting for this, for him .

Knox groans, the sound raw and guttural, like he’s finally found the thing he’s been hunting for. His mouth is everywhere, my neck, my shoulder, biting just enough to make me shiver, to brand me.

He’s everywhere. Inside me, around me, under my skin. I can’t think. I don’t want to.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls against my skin, pulling back and driving deep again, slow and punishing.

My hands scramble over his back, nails digging into his shoulders like I need to anchor myself, like I might come apart if I don’t hold on.

Every thrust steals the air from my lungs, rewrites the way I understand want. He sets a rhythm that has me spiraling fast, each deep stroke building pressure in my core, unraveling me.

I’m going to break. I want to break. For him. Because of him .

“Touch yourself,” he says, low and rough, stilling inside me. “I want to watch.”

I blink up at him, breathless, my brain short-circuiting. “What?”

His mouth curves into something dark and wicked.

“You heard me, sunshine.” His voice is like gravel soaked in honey. “Show me how you come. Rub that pretty clit while I fuck you slow.”

Oh wow.

Heat floods my cheeks, shame and desire crashing together like lightning in my chest. My pulse stutters, then races. His eyes, those sharp, storm-dark eyes, lock on mine, and it’s like being struck.

He’s watching me like I’m sacred. Like I’m sinful. Like I’m the only thing on this earth worth burning for.

My body answers before my pride can catch up. Trembling, I slide a hand between us. The moment my fingers find that desperate, aching place, he thrusts again, slow and deep, like he’s making a promise.