AUBREY

I hadn't expected Knox's kiss to feel this... comforting. Despite everything Jax commanded, despite the mission burning in the back of my mind, there's something about the way Knox holds me that makes the world feel less sharp around the edges. His lips move against mine with a desperate hunger that mirrors something deep inside me, something I've been trying to ignore for weeks.

The heat building between us is undeniable, electric in a way that has nothing to do with duty or manipulation. When I feel the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against me through his clothes, a thrill shoots through my body that's entirely my own reaction, not part of any plan.

My hand slides downward almost of its own accord, my fingers grazing along the length of him through the fabric. The contact makes him groan softly against my mouth, a sound so raw and needy that it sends liquid fire straight to my core.

"Fuck, Aubrey," he breathes, his restraint crumbling as I continue my deliberate exploration. His hips jerk involuntarily into my touch, and I can feel his control slipping away piece by piece.

I lean in closer, letting my wolf's desires take over, my touch becoming more deliberate and teasing. There's power in this—in the way his breath catches, in the hunger burning in those green eyes as they lock onto mine. For once in my life, I'm the one in control. Not Jax with his commands and punishments, not the mission that's defined my existence—just me, affecting this powerful man in ways that make him tremble.

"Tell me what you want," I whisper against his ear, my voice husky with my own arousal. The words surprise me with their boldness, but seeing the effect they have on Knox—the way his pupils dilate, the way his breathing becomes ragged—gives me a flicker of satisfaction that's purely selfish.

"You," he growls, his hands sliding down to grip my waist. "I want you. All of you."

The honesty in his voice, the vulnerability beneath the desire, does something to me I wasn't prepared for. This isn't just physical need—there's something deeper in the way he looks at me, like I'm precious, like I matter beyond what I can give him.

For tonight, I tell myself as I work at the remaining buttons of his shirt, I can let myself enjoy this. I can pretend this is real.

His shirt falls away, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest, the defined muscles I've admired during training sessions. My hands explore the warm skin, tracing old scars that speak of battles fought and won. He's beautiful in a way that makes my chest tight with want.

"Your turn," he murmurs, but his hands are already moving, reverent as they map my body. When his palms cup my breasts, I arch into the touch with a gasp that's entirely genuine.

"Knox," I breathe, and the way he responds to his name on my lips—like it's a prayer, like it means everything—makes something crack open inside my chest.

He lays me back on the soft carpet, his body covering mine, and for a moment we just stare at each other. The moonlight streaming through the windows turns his skin silver, makes his eyes look like liquid starlight. He's so beautiful it hurts to look at him.

"Are you certain?" he asks one more time, his voice rough with barely contained need. "Once we do this..."

"I'm sure," I whisper, and in this moment, I am. Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever consequences await, right now I want this more than I've ever wanted anything.

His kiss this time is softer, more tender, as if he's trying to memorize the taste of me. His hands worship my body with a reverence that makes tears prick at my eyes. When he finally joins with me, moving slowly, carefully, the sensation is overwhelming.

The pain is sharp but brief, and then there's only fullness, only the feeling of being complete in a way I never knew I was missing. Knox stills above me, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us breathing hard.

"Okay?" he whispers, and the concern in his voice undoes me completely.

I nod, unable to speak past the emotion clogging my throat. When I lift my hips experimentally, we both groan at the sensation. Then we're moving together, finding a rhythm that's ancient and perfect, our bodies learning each other's needs.

It's messy and intense and nothing like the clinical seduction I'd planned. It's real in a way that terrifies me, honest in a way that makes my heart race for reasons that have nothing to do with physical pleasure.

When release finally claims us both, it's with a intensity that leaves me shaking in his arms. Knox collapses beside me, pulling me against his chest, and for a long moment we just breathe together.

"Mine," he murmurs against my hair, so quietly I almost miss it. The possessive note in his voice should alarm me, but instead it sends a warm flutter through my chest.

As I lie there in his arms, feeling more content than I have in years, one thought echoes through my mind with crystal clarity:

What have I done?

Because this wasn't supposed to feel like coming home. It wasn't supposed to feel like the first honest thing I've done in years. And it definitely wasn't supposed to make me question everything I thought I knew about loyalty, about love, about who I really am beneath all the lies I've been telling.

But as Knox's breathing evens out beside me and his arms tighten protectively around me even in sleep, I can't bring myself to regret it.

Not yet.