Chapter Ten

Knox POV

I honestly didn’t think Danielle would agree to stay the night with me, but here she is, curled softly against my side in the quiet aftermath, my arm wrapped around her slender waist. She isn’t asleep; instead, she gazes quietly at the wall, lost somewhere in thoughts I can’t yet reach. Her silence feels heavy, loaded with uncertainty, and I brace myself, expecting the moment she whispers that she needs to leave.

But then she surprises me.

“I don’t usually do things like this,” Danielle whispers softly, her voice tentative and careful in the quiet of the room. “I don’t go to bars alone. I definitely don’t sleep with people I don’t even know.”

There’s no guilt yet, just a delicate confusion as she tries to puzzle through what’s happened between us tonight. My chest tightens slightly, feeling strangely protective of her vulnerability.

Before I can respond, she speaks again, almost to herself this time, her voice low and thoughtful. “The weirdest part is, I always have anxiety, even at work. I’m always worried, always waiting to see what someone else will do next, always unsure. But tonight, with you, I wasn’t scared at all.”

Her admission hits me squarely in the chest, stirring something fierce and protective that I haven’t felt in a long damn time.

“Sometimes,” I say quietly, rubbing small circles against her bare shoulder, “a person in our life can change us without even trying. I’m not saying your boyfriend’s the sole reason for your anxiety, but,” I pause, hating the bitter truth I have to speak, “maybe he was partly right about one thing. Sometimes, being away from the familiar lets you step out of your comfort zone. Makes you brave enough to do things you never thought possible.”

The words burn coming out, because I sure as hell don’t want to give that asshole any credit, not after how he treated her. There were other ways he could’ve handled whatever he was feeling, ways that didn’t involve hurting Danielle, breaking her trust, or making her feel small.

Her brow furrows slightly, sadness shadowing her gaze. “Maybe you’re right,” she whispers softly. “Maybe he was right. But still, he shouldn’t have done what he did. It just blindsided me. There weren’t any signs, nothing at all. It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

She sounds so convinced of this that I almost feel sorry for what I have to tell her next. Turning slightly, I cup her cheek gently, guiding her gaze up to mine.

“Think about it again, Red,” I tell her firmly but gently. “There are always signs, you just have to be willing to see them.”

Her eyes soften a little at my words, confusion fading to curiosity. A faint smile tilts her lips as she studies me carefully. “Red?” she asks softly, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Her genuine curiosity brings a smile of my own, and I shift my weight, leaning slightly above her so that our faces are closer.

“Well,” I say, voice husky and low, “you showed up tonight wearing red, that dress was bold as hell, Danielle. You walked in here like fire itself. I noticed.”

She blushes beautifully at that, color blooming over her cheeks, and I chuckle softly, brushing my thumb gently over her flushed skin.

“And second,” I murmur, easing myself fully above her and straddling her hips, my eyes locked firmly onto hers, “you blush exactly like this whenever I touch you, so sweet, so tempting, your cheeks turn the perfect shade of red.”

She shivers beneath my touch, eyes wide and breath hitching as I lean down slowly, pressing my lips to the curve of her throat, tasting her pulse beating wildly against my mouth.

Without hesitation, I grip her hips, lifting her slightly as I turn her effortlessly beneath me, guiding her onto her stomach so her back presses intimately against my chest. She gasps softly, arching into me as my hand slides into her hair, tangling gently but firmly in the fiery strands and pulling her head back enough to expose the elegant line of her neck.

My teeth graze the sensitive skin of her earlobe, drawing a soft, trembling whimper from her lips. “And finally,” I whisper roughly, my breath warm against her ear, “your hair, it reminds me of pure fire, wild and vibrant, just like the woman beneath me. And something tells me that the same fire burns deep inside you, just waiting for someone brave enough to set it free.”

She whimpers again, pressing herself harder against me, and a low groan escapes my throat. I didn’t plan on taking her again tonight, one reckless decision should’ve been enough.

But feeling her heat against my body, hearing her quiet, needy sounds as she melts under my touch, I know I’m far past being rational. I’m completely gone for her now.

No, I didn’t intend on fucking Danielle again, but God help me, there’s no way I’m letting go of her now.

I tear the condom from its foil, rolling it down over my cock with steady fingers, even though everything in me screams to feel her without it. I want to know what it’s like to fuck her raw, to feel every tight, clenching inch of her wrapped around me with nothing in between. But club rules are the line, and I don’t cross lines without permission. Not this one. Not yet.

No one goes bare unless they’ve gone to Prez and made it official, laid claim and taken a woman as their own. Until that day comes, I’ll play by the rules and let my imagination do the rest. But fuck, it’s a cruel tease.

I grab her hips and haul her up onto her knees, lining myself up. The moment I slide inside her, I grit my teeth to keep control. She grips me like a fucking vice, hot and wet and perfect. Every inch I push into her feels like coming home, like punishment and pleasure all at once.

Her hands brace against the bed to steady herself, but I don’t want that. I want surrender. I press my palm between her shoulder blades and push her down until her cheek meets the mattress.

“Arms behind your back, Red,” I murmur, letting the threat and promise fill my voice as I roll my hips into hers slow and deep.

She obeys instantly, sliding her arms behind her and clasping her wrists like she knows she belongs there. I growl, low and rough, “Good fucking girl.”

I wrap my hand around her wrists, holding them together in one hand while the other twists into her hair and yanks her head back just enough to make her whimper. I don’t even thrust yet. I stay perfectly still inside her and just watch. Her body trembles, her breath catches, and I see the way her slick drips down her thighs.

“Look at you,” I mutter, voice thick with heat. “Soaking the sheets and I haven’t even started fucking you yet. You need this, don’t you, baby? Need to be used right.”

She whimpers again, and I lean over her, my chest brushing her back as I bring my lips to her ear. “Tell me if you want it to stop,” I whisper, my breath hot and heavy. “Because I’m going to make you scream.”

I don’t wait for an answer. I drive my hips forward, slamming into her with force that makes her gasp and clench hard around me. That tight grip threatens to undo me, but I hold on. I grit my teeth and do it again, this time faster, rougher. Her cries grow louder with every thrust, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. She doesn’t pull away. She fucking takes it.