It might have lasted minutes. Maybe an hour. Maybe a fucking week.
“Harper?”
Maya’s voice. Gentle now. A little urgent, too.
She had also gotten off her. When had that happened? When had the vibrator been switched off? And why did blinking suddenly feel like an overwhelming endeavor?
The belt was untied, the clasp clattering as it was thrown on the floor, and then Harper was rolled onto her back. A strained noise escaped—something between a grunt and a moan—as she tried to bring the room into focus.
What was happening? Why had they stopped? And why couldn’t she voice any of those questions?
Maya leaned over her, brushing sweaty hair away from her face.
“Give me a color, Harper.”
She sounded so worried. How many times had she spoken and been ignored for her to sound like that?
Harper wanted to obey. Tospeak. But no matter how much she tried, all that came out was a sighing whine.
She turned her head, looking around as though doing so would reveal where her voice had hidden itself. But then Maya put a finger under her chin, directing Harper’s eyes back to hers. Even though she used no force whatsoever, Harper gave in with no resistance.
“Look at me. And give me a color.”
Her voice was so soft. A tone that felt like auditory velvet, wrapping her in warmth and safety.
She’d requested an answer. And right then, there was nothing Harper wanted more than to please her.
“Green.” Her voice was barely there. A sigh more than speech.
“Are you sure?” Maya cupped her face, caressing her cheek. “You’re looking a little out of it. We can stop.”
No. No, keep going.
The thought was as misty as the rest of her. Unclear and airy, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t voice it.
She didn’t want this to be over. This feeling of lightness, as though she had been pulled into a dreamlike realm of pure tranquility. A place where nothing could hurt her. And, though she wasn’t sure why, she could only rest in it as long as Maya was next to her.
But she couldn’t say all of that. Anything more than single syllables was impossible to voice.
“Green. Sir.” She put her hand on Maya’s. “Please.”
Maya didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She just stared at Harper, looking for signs of refusal in her eyes, and was stunned when she found none.
“If you change your mind, just tell me. Or whisper it if that’s all you can manage. I’ll hear it. I promise.” She pressed their lips together, the touch so light it could barely be considered a kiss. “You were so good for me. Did so well. You did fuckingincredible.”
Her mouth moved down. Marking her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. The only interruptions to the featherlight kisses were more hushed affirmations.
When had Harper last heard earnest praise like that? Had she ever? And if it had happened, and it just escaped her, had she ever believed it?
Those thoughts were too dark for this moment. If entertained, they would pollute the cloud she was floating in. Ruin the peace she didn’t even know she could feel and which she had been all but shoved into.
They were also easy to ignore. Those thoughts had no power here. With how sweetly Maya brushed her lips over her skin, as though even the slightest pressure would make her shatter, they took no effort at all to suppress.
Maya always forgot just how tiny Harper was. She could be the center of attention of any room if she wished it, her presence so brilliant that it made everyone else look dull by comparison. On top of that, she was so quick-witted that it took serious effort to keep up with her, and her confidence was so assured that it seemed impossible to shake.
Smallwasn’t a fitting descriptor for that person. Except for right then, with her nestled in Maya’s arms, wrapped in a blanket and with her eyes closed. Thensmallfit pretty well.
“How do you keep doing that?” Harper mumbled. The first words she’d spoken in the half hour they’d been sitting on the bed.
