He does it again, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and I'm writhing against him, desperate for friction between my legs, for more of all of it.
Then he bites down on my shoulder—hard enough to mark—and I actually whimper.
"Mine," he growls against my skin. "Tonight, you're mine."
“Yes, yours.” The words are barely coherent.
His mouth closes over my nipple again and I arch so hard I nearly throw us both off the bed. His arm holds me steady while he tortures me with his tongue and teeth, switching between breasts until I'm a gasping, shaking mess.
"I need—" I can't finish the sentence. I don't even know what I'm asking for.
But Harlon seems to know. His hand slides down my stomach, under the waistband of the sweats.
“Fuck, Piper.” He moans. “I make your pussy this wet?”
I nod. "You do."
His laugh is dark and satisfied. "Good girl."
Then his fingers slip into my aching folds, exactly where I need them, teasing and stroking, and it's too much and not enough and?—
"Look at me," he commands.
I force my eyes open to meet his gaze. He's watching me with an intensity that should be frightening, but it only makes everything hotter.
"I've thought about this," he says, voice rough as gravel. "Late at night, alone, hating myself for it. Wondering what you'd sound like…what you'd look like when you came for me."
His fingers circle my clit, then rub against it in the most decadent way, and my hips buck.
"Wondering if you'd beg."
"Harlon—" It's already a plea.
"That's it, sweetheart. Let me hear you."
The pleasure builds and tightens in seconds under his talented fingers, and the orgasm hits me like a freight train—sudden and overwhelming.
I cry out his name, hips grinding against his hand, riding wave after wave as he works me through it.
When I finally come down, trembling and gasping, he's staring at me with raw possession.
"Stunning," he murmurs, withdrawing his hand slowly. "Even better than I imagined."
“I’ve never come that hard before,” I breathe. I should be embarrassed, feeling this vulnerable or exposed. But instead I feel powerful, desired…like I've just discovered a wonderful secret.
And I want more.
I reach for his sweatpants, and he catches my wrist. "Piper?—"
"I need you inside me, Harlon." My voice is steady despite everything.
He swallows.
"Please," I whisper again, and there's no shame in my begging, only truth. Only desperate, aching need.
Any remaining restraint falls away as he removes the rest of our clothes. Then he's back, covering my body with his, skin to skin, his weight pressing me into the mattress just like I crave.
"God help me, Piper," he breathes against my mouth. "I can't stop."
