Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox)

Kxox chuckles. "I'm sure you'll be alright."

And now it's my turn.

I take a deep breath, trying to speak around the lump in my throat. My voice

wavers, but I don't look away from him.

"Well," I say, "before I met you, I spent my entire life chasing things I thought I

wanted. Boundless affection. Love. The kind of love that would make someone

choose me over the entire world. Every time I thought I was close to getting it, it

slipped away. And I had to start chasing all over again."

I swallow, catching my breath.

"And then you came along. God, you were relentless."

He grins but doesn't speak.

"You didn't wait for me to come around. You chased me like you already knew I

was yours. And the truth is, I didn't stand a chance. Not against these feelings that

are constantly overwhelming. I couldn't not fall in love with you, Knox."

His thumb brushes mine again as I exhale, steadying myself.

"And I promise you, from this day and forever, I'll stay. I'll show up. I'll keep

choosing you, even on the hard days, just as you've chosen me. I'll be honest

with you, even when it's not easy. I'll call you out when you're being a pain in my

ass"

He huffs out a small laugh.

"--and I'll never let you go to bed without knowing how much I love you."

I step in closer, and our foreheads almost touch.

"You're it for me," I whisper. "I really can't wait to start a family with you and be

called Mrs. Hartley."

My lips tremble around the last line.

"I love you, Knox. And I'm not going anywhere."

---KNOX---

I breathe in.

Then out.

Then in again.

I'm trying like hell to keep it together after hearing her vows. I won't cry. I'm a

grown-ass man. And it works. On the outside, at least. But inside? It's a goddamn

floodgate. She cracked something open in me, and now it's all rushing out.

The officiant says a few more words. Something about unity, about the beauty of

what we just promised. I'm barely hearing him now. Everything else but Sloane

has gone into slow motion.

We exchange rings.

Her hand is trembling.

So is mine.

It makes it a little harder to slide the band on her finger, but I take my time. Guide

it gently until it settles into place. Then she does mine, same shakiness, same

carefulness.

I glance up at her after, and damn, she's glowing. I can't tell why it's different.

She's still in the same short white dress, those heels, and that smile. But at this

moment, it looks like she drank the sun.

"By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada," the officiant says, "I now

pronounce you husband and wife. Knox, you may—"

I don't wait.

I take her face in both hands and go straight for her mouth. One hand slips into

her hair, and I feel things come loose—pins, flowers, whatever she put in this

morning. Doesn't matter now.

She tilts her head up, already opening for me. Her lips are soft and warm, and the

second I taste her, I know I'm gone.

I kiss her hard. Deep. Our mouths move fast, no hesitation. Tongue pushing

against tongue, teeth knocking once before we adjust. She grips the back of my

neck, pulling me in tighter, like she wants more of me.

And I give it.

She lets out a sound in the back of

her throat, something low and

needy. I feel it in my chest. She's all

over me, and I'm all over her. This is

probably offensive to anyone

watching, but I can't stop her hands

slide into my hair, and she tugs a

little, just enough to keep me there.

Our tongues tangle, wet and

demanding. I lick into her mouth,

and she sucks on my bottom lip likenoveldrama

she's starving.

The officiant clears his throat.

"You should probably save some for the honeymoon."

We pull apart, both of us breathless and grinning like lunatics. Sloane presses her

forehead to mine, still panting. I give her one last kiss, quicker, softer this time,

and we proceed to sign the paperwork. Afterward, a chapel worker snaps a few

Polaroid photos while we laugh and pose.

We barely make it into the backseat of the rental car before we're on each other

again.

I've got one hand sliding up her thigh, under her dress. My fingers brush lace. I

stop there, not because I want to, but because we've got a driver, and I'm trying to

be halfway decent. But the soft feel of the lace is enough to have me grinding my

teeth.

She's not making it any better. Her kisses are sweet and intoxicating, leaving a

wet trail of saliva down my chin. As if that isn't enough, her hand moves down,

palming the erection that's been torturing me for the last fifteen minutes, and

squeezes. Just once.

Fuck

I groan into her neck and press my face there. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, Mrs.

Hartley."

"Mmm." She runs her lips against my ear. "Say that again. Call me Mrs. Hartley."

I press a kiss to the hollow of her throat. "Mrs. Hartley."

"Again."

I come up, cup her jaw, and look into her face. Her cheeks are flushed, lips kiss-

bitten, and eyes heavy with want.

"Mrs. Hartley," I say, and then I kiss her so deep she melts against me.

Thank God the hotel's close. A few blocks at most. If we were in traffic, this would

get indecent fast.

As soon as the car stops in front of

our hotel, we practically run through

the entrance, hand in hand, both of

us breathless and laughing like we're

being chased. I can feel the heat

coming off her skin, see the

wildness in her eyes, and I don't

bother hiding what's mine. People

glance at us. Maybe it's the suit.

Maybe it's the look on my face that

says I'm a man who just got married

and is about to bury himself in his

wife. Either way, we make it to the

elevator bank, and I press the button

with a little too much urgency. The

doors slide open, and she pulls me

inside by the shirt.

The second the doors close behind us, leading straight up to the penthouse, I

grab her again. This time, I don't hold back.

The zipper on her dress gets

halfway down before I lose patience

and tear the whole thing off her

body. This is exactly why you book a

penthouse with a private elevator, so

you can start peeling your wife out

of her dress before you get to the

bedroom. She gasps, half laughing,

but she's just as frenzied, shoving

my jacket down my arms, fingers

fumbling at my buttons.

"Knox," she breathes, "hurry—"

Her dress drops to the elevator floor, leaving her in nothing but those tall heels.

and ripped panties. I grip her ass, pull her into me, and lift her like she weighs

nothing. Her legs wrap around my waist. She's hot, wet, and grinding.

My fingers find her heat, and I sink two inside her.

"Oh, fuck," she gasps, head hitting the elevator wall behind her.