Page 52 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

His mouth finds mine again, and it’s a different kiss than earlier, less sweet, more hungry, like the dam has broken and he needs this like air. My fingers grip his shoulders, nails digging into the expensive tux we already know won’t survive the night. And still, it’s not enough.

“Damn,” he murmurs against my jaw. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“Little late for that,” I whisper, tugging his hair just the way he likes.

His mouth returns to mine, more demanding now, and I feel it, his need, his want, his love, all of it pouring into me like we might fall apart if we let go.

I don’t want to let go.

“You looked so sweet today,” he rasps against my ear. “But this…” he rocks into me just enough to make me whimper, “...this is the part I’ve been thinking about all damn day.”

His words make me melt.

And throb.

The zipper of my dress comes down with agonizing slowness, and he pushes it off my shoulders like he’s unwrapping something decadent. The fabric slips over my skin, cool against overheated flesh, and a shiver rakes down my spine, not from cold, but from the sheer anticipation .

I’m in lace and heels and breathless need, pulse fluttering everywhere.

My skin feels electric, like every nerve ending is tuned to him.

When his fingers skim down my sides, grazing the edge of my bra, I suck in a breath, sharp and involuntary.

My thighs clench. My nipples tighten beneath the delicate lace like they know what's coming.

He trails lower, down to my hips, where he grips me harder than necessary, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp. It sends a jolt straight to my core. Hot, clenching, needy. Like my body’s screaming yes before I can even find the words.

My knees wobble. My breath stutters. Every part of me feels like it’s unraveling in his hands.

He presses his forehead to mine for half a second, eyes burning into mine like he’s trying to memorize this version of me, bare, flushed, aching for him.

“Turn around,” he murmurs. “Hands on the wall.”

The command makes my breath catch. My cheeks flush.

But I do it.

The moment my palms touch the wall, his hands are on my hips, his mouth trailing fire down my spine. He bites softly at my shoulder, groans when I arch into him, and palms my ass through my panties.

I’m soaked. Throbbing. Every breath is a ragged, needy thing. My hands press harder to the wall just to keep me upright, because my legs are already unsteady, and we’ve barely started.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’ve been killing me in this dress.”

“And now it’s off,” I whisper, breath hitching. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Knox groans, deep and wrecked, like the sound is torn straight from his chest. His fingers flex on my hips, like he’s barely holding himself back.

He hooks his fingers into the lace and drags it down my thighs in one smooth motion. His mouth is back on me, kissing and biting the curve of my ass, down the back of my thigh, until my knees nearly give out.

I feel like I’m unraveling from the inside out.

The air feels thick, electric, like everything between us is coiled and about to snap. Every inch of skin he touches feels branded, every kiss leaves me panting, dizzy with the weight of him.

My heart pounds in my ears. My thighs clench. I can feel the wet heat of my own arousal, and it only makes me needier.

He hasn’t even touched me where I’m aching yet, and I already feel ruined.

And I love it.

“Bed,” he says. “Now.”

I climb onto the mattress, the sheets cool against my flushed skin, but I don’t feel shy. I feel powerful. Wanted. Worshiped.

He strips with none of his usual care, like he’s too far gone to pretend, and crawls over me, hot and solid and feral with need.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, sliding a hand between my thighs, fingers finding me slick and aching. “This wet already, sweetheart?”

A moan slips from my lips before I can stop it. I’m burning. Drenched. Desperate. I crave him so badly it hurts .

“Knox.” I gasp, rocking into his touch.

“God, I love how responsive you are.” He slips two fingers inside me, curling them just right while his thumb circles tight and slow. “You open up for me like you were made to be ruined.”

I cry out, trembling, already so close I’m barely holding on.

But he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I pant. “God, I’m yours.”

That breaks him.

He flips me beneath him in one breathless move and thrusts into me with a growl that shakes something loose inside me. It’s hard, deep, claiming, the kind of rhythm that pushes the breath from my lungs and makes me feel every inch of him.

His hand finds my throat, not tight, just enough pressure to ground me, hold me in place, make me his.

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, chasing that exquisite tension curling low in my belly.

“You gonna come for me?” he growls, teeth at my shoulder, fingers teasing my nipple until I cry out. “Come on, Josie. Let me feel it.”

I shatter, body locking tight around him, stars behind my eyes, his name ripped from my throat.

He follows with a broken moan, burying himself to the hilt, forehead pressed to mine as we tremble in the aftermath, messy, breathless, clinging like we might disappear if we let go.

We don’t.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

Because this… this is forever.

The end.

What to read next???

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When you end up knocked up by your new boss—with TRIPLETS…

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Three secrets, to be exact. And they’re all his.

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