Fine Make

Chapter 90 Chapter 90

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Knox's lips on mine are gentle at first. I press harder into the kiss, hungry for more, pulling him with me like I'm trying to merge us. My fingers glide up his back, and then I drag my nails down, sharp enough to leave a mark, maybe even draw blood. He groans into my mouth, the sound deep and raw, and then the kiss changes-no more softness, no hesitation. Just heat. Just need.

His fingers dive into my hair, gripping tight at the roots, and the roughness makes me moan. My hips grind down on him instinctively, feeling him swell beneath me.

He pulls away, breathless.

"You need to get off," he whispers.

"Why?" I ask, rolling my hips again just to tease.

"Fuck. No... You said we need to work on the other parts of our relationship. No sex. Remember?"

I swallow. "Well, I..."

"I'm your boyfriend. I'm supposed to help you keep your hands off me."

I don't know what to say to that. I definitely wasn't this turned on when I made that no-sex rule. Back then, it felt noble. Now it feels like a joke I told in another lifetime. My hands drift to his chest, fingertips grazing the edges of the electrodes still stuck to his skin. One by one, I peel them off. I don't dare look up, but I can feel his gaze tracking every movement.

That part of him sitting underneath my heat keeps growing.

"Hunter gave us an ultimatum," I say, letting my palm rest over one of the tattoos on his chest. The skin there feels slightly raised, bumpy, something I haven't noticed before. I trace my fingers over it. He doesn't move. Just holds still, breathing into my face.

"Hunter?" His voice is low. Controlled. "Where did you meet him?"

"At work. In the elevator. He said he wants an apology letter from both of us-for ruining his wedding."

Knox lets out a dry laugh. "He's still mad about that?"

"I think he's just lonely. No one's around to help him spend his money anymore."

Knox's arms wrap around my waist, tugging me closer. "So we're supposed to write a letter without a gun pointed to our heads?"

I smack his chest.

"What?" he says. "You want to write it? You'd have to knock me out and force my hand."

“I'm not writing anything,” I murmur. “But then he was checking out my sister. Kind of creeped me out that he's threatening to make my life hell and at the same time eye-banging Serena."

"Make your life hell?" Knox's brow rises.

"He says he helped someone secure majority shares in the company. Claims he's about to become CEO. And if I don't cooperate with his little demand, he'll make sure I'm so buried in work that I never see you again."

"Hunter's a softy," Knox says. "He doesn't have it in him. He just misses me and doesn't know how to come back without making it look like surrender. I'll talk to him."

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"You better," I say, "Because I'm not writing that letter."

He lifts his hand and brushes my bangs from my face. "Then maybe you should just give him your sister"

"Fuck you, Knox."

He laughs and tilts his head back. It's rich and unguarded. When he comes down from it, he says, "Seriously though, the doesn't even love her boyfriend. And a distraction might help with the whole stepfather crush thing"

"You know too much about my family."

"Your family is a bunch of crazies. You're the craziest of them all."

"Oh yeah?" I smirk. "Need I remind you that your brother tore his hand open just

to have you patch him up?"

Knox laughs again. "Still doesn't beat your family's record."

"Your mom lied that your dead sister is alive just to get you in the same room as your brother. I think that tops it."

The laughter fades from his face. His eyes narrow slightly.

"The thing is," he says, voice low, "I don't think she was lying."

"What?"

"I know my mother. She was probably telling the truth. And that's even worse than Lydia being dead"

"Do you... want to find her?"

Knox looks away.

"If we keep talking about this, I'm going to need those shocks again."

I cup his face and make him look at me. "Hey. You can tell me anything. If there's

a weight on you, let me carry it too."

"I don't want this relationship to turn into you fixing me."

"I don't care what you want," I say. "I'm fixing you anyway."

"And how are you planning to do that?"

I slowly rise from his lap. My skin still tingles where we touched, like I'm leaving part of myself behind on him. I swing my leg over and step off until I'm standing beside the bench. And he stays exactly where he is-seated, elbows resting loosely on his thighs.

But his eyes. Cod.

They follow me like a touch, dragging up the length of my legs, over the stretch of my thighs, my hips, my stomach. Lingering at my breasts. My chest rises and falls quickly, and even though I'm technically still wearing panties, I might as well be naked.

The look in his eyes isn't just lust. It's hunger.

"You should really put clothes on," he mutters, his gaze locked on my breasts.

I bend slightly, hook my thumbs under the waistband of my panties, and pull them off. Then I toss them at him.noveldrama

He catches the fabric midair and lifts it to his face, inhaling deeply with closed eyes.

Sun, 25 May

When he opens them again, he looks like a man starved.

"You told your family you love me,” I say,

His gaze doesn't move from my body. "Did 1?"

"Yes."

"I seem to remember you saying something similar."

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Those feelings."

"Not while you're naked."

"When? Because I'm not putting my clothes back on, Knox."

"Then I might need to run away. Because I'm not having tender thoughts about you right now

"I don't want you to." I step closer. "I want you to use me, Knox."

His eyes snap to mine. "Use you?"

"As your anchor. Whatever part of you seeks pain, I want to teach it to seek pleasure instead."

His whole body tenses. And then his voice drops. "I'm listening."

I start backing away, one step at a time, holding his gaze. When I reach the threshold of the main room, his playroom, I pause beneath the red glow and lift

my hand-just one finger-and curl it inward, beckoning him toward me. My heart is pounding by now, but I don't let it show.

He rises from the bench like he's being summoned by a magical spell.

I don't have a plan. Not exactly. I don't know what I'm doing, only that I want him

to follow me. My feet move on their own, carrying me deeper into the room. Past

the leather-covered benches, past the wall racks lined with tools I can't name yet.

And then I see it.

The suspension rig stands near the far wall, tall and made of black steel. At first glance, it almost looks like gym equipment- but there's nothing ordinary about it. The base is wide and stable, with a frame arching upward like a doorway meant for tying someone in place. Straps dangle from the top bar, thick, padded cuffs designed to hold wrists high and apart. Matching restraints hang lower, near where the legs would go, attached to adjustable hooks that promise zero freedom once you're in.

It's built for exposure. For stillness. For total trust.

I stop in front of it, turn, and meet his eyes as he closes the space between us.

"No rules, Knox," I say. "No safeword. Use me."

"If you're asking me to hurt you, I won't do it."

"I'm asking you to use me. Not everything has to be about pain."

He moves toward me, each step measured. When there's no more space left

between us, he lifts his hand to my chin and tilts it up. "You're sure this is what you want?"

12.44 Sun, 25 May

"Yes. I think you're happiest when you have something to play with."

"So you think you know me now?"

"I do."

"Out of everything, you picked the swing? You're going to be sore."

"There's never a time you don't leave me sore, Knox."

"There's sore, baby. And then there's sore."

With zero warning, he lifts me by the waist and carries me toward the rig.