NEVER WANY ANYONE ELSE
CHAPTER 4
IVY
He's an asshole, that much I've seen.
I've had my fair share of assholes in my life. As a matter of fact, I am surrounded by assholes. But he…he's different.
I know I have bigger fish to fry, but I can't seem to get him out of my mind. And how he looked at me when…
Forget it. That was a mistake. It's never happening again.
Sierra decides to get dinner for all of us.
I didn't expect her to include Knox, but she does.
At the table, Knox keeps trying to talk to her, but she barely responds to his questions or channels them to me. The tension between them is thick enough to be cut through with a knife.
"I'm so exhausted, Ivy," she walks towards me and presses a kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, alright?"
"Okay. Goodnight."
She barely looks at Knox as she sprints up the stairs. I watch his gaze, watch him track his pretty princess with his eyes until she disappears up the stairs.
A pang of jealousy hits my chest, even though I know it shouldn't. What would it feel like to be looked at like that, by him?
"You really love her, don't you?"
I immediately regret the words when he glares at me.
He takes a swift gulp of his wine, and I drag my teeth across my lower lip.
"That much is obvious."
"Why did you leave her then?"
He glares at me, the look in his eyes is intense enough to burn through my skin, but I've never been known to back down from a challenge.
"Sierra and I have been friends for seven years now, and she's never spoken about you, not once. If you loved her so much, why weren't you in her life?"
"That's none of your business," he seethes.
My gaze drops to his left hand on the table, curled into a fist so tight I could almost smell the blood on his palm.
I must have hit a sore spot.
My throat goes dry.
"Look, I'm sorry. It's just…"
He rises from his chair and pushes it backwards.
"Goodnight, Ivy," he says without another glance.
My heart drops to my stomach as he walks away. I want to go after him, to apologize.
On second thought, he probably deserves every hurtful word I said. He left Sierra. Whatever his reasons, he chose not to be in her life. When it comes to men and their atrocities, they're guilty until proven innocent, at least to me.
When I'm done, I go up the stairs and find the guest room Sierra showed me earlier.
My bags are already inside, neatly arranged by the door.
I close the door behind me and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath.
What is wrong with me?
I came here to escape one disaster, and I'm walking straight into another.
I try to sleep.
I really do.
But every time I close my eyes, I see him. Those dark eyes. That cold smile. The way he looked at me across the dinner table like he hated me, but still wanted to devour me.
And God help me, I want him to.
I've never seen or felt anything like this.
My life is falling apart. My aunt threw me out. Harold Grant wants to destroy my family. Theodore betrayed me in the worst possible way. I've lost my home, my college funding, everything.
And all I can think about is Knox Reid's cock.
I'm losing my mind. A cruel chuckle escapes my throat as I turn in my bed.
That's right. I'm really fucking losing it.
My hand slides under the sheets, between my legs. I'm already wet. I've been wet since I sat across from him at the dinner table.
I close my eyes, tracing my fingers down my thighs, before I find my swollen bud through my panties.
My middle and index finger circle around it.
It feels good, so fucking good. But it's not enough.
I kick the duvet off my body and reach into my bag, pulling out the small pink vibrator I brought with me.
It's not exactly Knox Reid's big cock now, but it's all I have. And it's all I should want.
I push my soaked panties aside with trembling fingers, before the vibrator hums against me. It's low, steady, and cruelly gentle. My hips jerk off the mattress like they've been shocked as the sensation shoots up my spine.
I shouldn't be doing this.
Not here. Not in his goddamn house, in the guest room. My best friend was kind enough to let me stay here, and all I can do is touch myself to her father?
But I can't stop.
I close my eyes and he's there.
Wearing a shirt with all the buttons open, just like he was when I walked in on him in the study.
Now that image burns behind my eyelids.
I imagine him finding me like this. Imagine him not knocking, just pushing the door open with that dark, quiet authority.
He wouldn't say a word at first. He'd just cross the room in three strides, yank the vibrator from my hand, and replace it with his shaft.
God, the stretch.
I know exactly how it would feel.
His fat, flushed head nudging my entrance, forcing me open inch by brutal inch while I sob and claw at his shoulders.
He'd pin my wrists above my head with one hand, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise, and he'd sink his cock so deep in my aching cunt, I'll feel him in my belly button.
"Take it," he'd growl against my ear with his sexy baritone.
"Been dreaming about this tight little pussy since you walked in."
I whimper out loud, sliding the vibrator lower, circling my entrance.
My toes curl, my back arches out of the bed. I want it all, every fucking inch. Circling my clit is just not enough anymore.
I spread my legs wider and slide the vibrator into my dripping pussy.
My walls flutter around it, clasp around it, begging for more. More inches, more girth.
I fuck myself slow at first, hips rolling, pretending it's him pulling out to the tip and slamming back in, balls slapping my ass, that thick shaft dragging over every sensitive spot inside me until I'm crying.
"Knox," I breathe, his name tastes like sin when it rolls off my dry tongue.
My other hand finds my clit. I rub it in hard, frantic circles.
I picture him flipping me over, face down on the mattress, ass in the air. One big hand fisted in my hair, arching my back while he pounds into me from behind, relentless, the bed frame rattling, his grunts mixing with my broken moans.
He'd feel so heavy on top of me, chest slick with sweat, teeth scraping my shoulder as he mutters filthy things:
"This what you wanted, baby? Daddy's cock splitting you open?"
That fantasy, hearing him say those words in my head pushes me further towards an edge.
I shove the vibrator deeper, faster, fucking myself with it in brutal thrusts.
My thighs shake. My toes curl deeper into the sheets.
He's making a mess of me, fucking with my god damn mind!
"Please," I sob, voice cracking. "Please, Daddy Knox, fuck me, please…"
The orgasm slams into me. I scream his name with no restraint left, throwing my back off the bed as I come, harder than I ever have in my entire life.
"Knox! Fuck! Knox daddy, please fuck me, please. I'll be your good little girl. I promise I'll be your…"
The knock on my door drags me back to my cruel reality. Knox isn't fucking me silly, and my life is still a mess.
My eyes fly open, and I yank the toy out, shoving it under my pillow.
I pull the duvet up over my naked body, feeling my heart pound against my chest.
"Y-yes? Come…come in." I hope I don't sound like I was seconds away from the filthiest orgasm of my life.
The door creaks open, the scent of his cologne hits me first.
My throat tightens.
Oh no.
Fuck no.
"What do you want?"
He closes the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms crossed. He's changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, and somehow he looks even more dangerous like this.
I drag my sex dazed eyes across him. I can see a peak of his cock through his grey sweatpants.
Bloody grey sweatpants.
"Your room and mine share a wall, Ivy."
Wait, what?
Blood drains from my face.
This can't be happening to me.
"I wanted to make sure everything was alright." He continues.
Heat floods my face.
"I… I'm fine. It's nothing. Just…just some things I saw on my phone."
He raises a brow.
"Really?"
"Yes."
His eyes roam over me, from my flushed face, to my bare shoulders, and the duvet clutched against my chest.
He doesn't say another word, just turns to leave.
"What exactly did you hear?"
Fuck. I don't know why I ask that. I always find myself stumbling over words and saying all the wrong things when he's around me.
He tilts his neck sideways to glance at me.
"All I heard were screams. It's a big house, but the walls are quite thin. You should be more careful, Ivy."
Oh my God.
He heard everything.
Every word.
Every moan.
Every time I called him daddy.
He turns to leave again, but I'm spiraling now.
"I didn't mean anything I said."
He stops with one hand on the doorknob, and looks back at me over his shoulder.
"Really?"
I nod. Filthy lying whore.
"Really. I was just… it didn't mean anything."
He turns around fully, and a slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face.
"You didn't mean it."
"No."
He takes a step toward me.
My breath catches.
"So when you were begging daddy Knox to fuck you, screaming for my cock…" Another step. "…you didn't mean that?"
I shake my head, even as my body betrays me and my pussy soaks itself all over again.
"No. I didn't."
"The thing is, I don't believe you, Ivy."
He's walking toward me, and I scramble backward on the bed.
What is he doing? Why is he coming closer?
He continues, until my back hits the headboard with nowhere left to go.
He leans down, bracing one hand on the headboard beside my head. His handsome face is barely inches away from mine. He's so close, I can smell the whiskey in his breath.
"I can smell your desire from here, little Ivy." He looks around me. "All those delicious juices you left all over this bed."
I swallow hard to dampen my dry throat.
"I heard every filthy little word, every syllable as you screamed desperately for my cock. But you shouldn't want me," he continues, his breath hot against my ear. "And I don't fuck little girls."
"I'm not a little girl." I fire back, turning away from him to hide my embarrassment.
He doesn't let me.
His other hand comes up and grips my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
"And if I give you want you want, if I fucked you…" His thumb brushes my lower lip. "…you would never want anyone else. We can't have that now, can we?"
I'm sweating despite the air conditioning blasting through the room.
"I came here to figure out a way to sort out my life," It's the only thought in my head that makes any sense.
"I don't want any trouble."
He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Good." He releases my jaw and steps back. "Because I am trouble, Ivy. The worst kind."
He walks to the door and stops, looking back at me.
"Sleep early. We have an event to attend tomorrow."
Then he's gone.
And I'm left trembling in the dark, knowing I'm completely and utterly fucked.
