CHAPTER FOUR
Eric
I’m about to go down on my knee and make good on that promise to lick Harper to orgasm when she suddenly rejects that idea and me. “No,” she whispers, flattening her hands on my chest. “No. This is a mistake. I need to leave.”
She tries to pull away but I catch her waist and pull her to me. “What just happened?”
“I don’t do this kind of thing, ever. I don’t know why I’m half naked with you right now.”
“This is why,” I say, cupping her head and kissing her, my tongue stroking deep and long, the tension in her body easing almost instantly, a tiny moan sliding from her mouth. “That’s why,” I repeat, when she’s all soft and yielding in my arms. “Because you want me and I want you.”
“You want something,” she accuses as if she’s decided I have an agenda I don’t have.
“I want you or I’d be gone already,” I say, pulling back to let her see the truth in my face. “You’re the only reason I’m not driving away right now.”
“Because I fit your agenda?”
“My only agenda right now is you on my tongue.” I kiss her again. “And what does me between your legs do for me besides turn us both on?”
“I won’t be a weapon against them or you.”
“I’m fighting a war. I don’t need a weapon. Don’t make this complicated. Don’t make me complicated. I’m here, I’m gone. I want to fuck you before I leave. You want to fuck me, too, and right now, I’m going to kiss you again unless you—”
“Stop talking,” she orders fiercely. “Stop and give me time to think. Stop—”
My mouth slants over hers, and the instant my tongue touches hers, she moans and kisses me back, a wild hungry kiss, my hand on her breast, her nipple.
She moans, and God, I love this woman’s moans. My cock throbs against my zipper and I need her on my tongue and everywhere I can get her. I lower myself to one knee, my hands on her hips, slipping her panties off. As I look up at her, there’s a hint of trepidation in her eyes that I don’t want to exist, and I know comes from family, that war that she wrongly believes I’m fighting.
“I’m going to make you forget about everything but fucking,” I promise, my lips pressing to her belly, my tongue flicking against the soft skin there. She trembles in response, and fuck, I’m so damn hard that it hurts.
Her hand goes to my shoulder and I caress her hip and cup her ass. My g
aze lifts and her teeth scrape her bottom lip. My teeth go to her hip, where I nip, and then soothe the tiny bite with my tongue. Her lips part and I slide two fingers inside her. She arches her hips and makes a barely there, but fucking sexy as hell, sound. And when I lick her clit, she pants out another little sound that drives me out of my mind.
I rotate her and sit her down on the bed, my hands settling on her knees, my lips finding her inner thigh while my hand works a path up the opposite leg, but I’m done waiting. I slip my shoulders between her legs and my mouth closes down on her sex. When she moans, I pull her forward and force her to her back, lifting her legs to my shoulders, while I start licking and suckling, hungry for more of this woman, and yes, she’s right. We’re wrong. We’re so fucking wrong that we are right in every possible way. That I can sense she isn’t one of them is everything. Every fucking thing, and I slide two fingers inside her again, reveling in the way she arches her hips, lifting into the thrust of my fingers. I lick her everywhere, the taste of her shifting from salty to sweet when she suddenly quakes into orgasm, her body spasming around my fingers. It’s then that I realize I don’t have a condom.
I use my fingers and mouth to stroke her to completion, and when she’s done, really done, I slide up her body to kiss her, and damn it, the taste of her on both our lips about undoes me. “I don’t have a condom,” I whisper.
“Oh god,” she whispers. “Please tell me no.”
“I wish I could,” I say kissing her and rolling us to our sides. “No sex.”
“I owe you then,” she says, her hand on my chest when I want it on my cock. I want it all over my body, but I don’t move. I don’t touch her. “You owe me nothing.”
“I do,” she says, “because that was—I um, don’t even have words for what that was.”
“You don’t owe me,” I repeat. “I’m not them.”
She glances down. “Well then,” she says, pulling back to look at me. “If I don’t owe you, you owe me. I want to taste you coming on my tongue.” Her hand slides down my tattoo sleeve. “Because just looking at your ink has me needing more.” Suddenly her hand is just where I want it, on my cock, and I’m too busy reveling in how damn good it feels to care when she shoves me to my back and crawls on top of me. Especially since she’s naked and gorgeous, and I now have a perfect view of her breasts.
“What are you doing, Harper?” I ask. “We don’t have a condom.”
She moves to the side of me, her knees at my hip as she runs her hand over my zipper, stroking the hard length of my now throbbing cock. “But we have my mouth.” She leans in and kisses my stomach the way I’d kissed hers.
I don’t even consider resisting where this is going. Her mouth, my cock. Yes-fucking-please. Now. I want her too damn badly to say no and already my hand is on her head, her mouth kissing me through my pants, and there’s no real preamble before she has my cock out of my pants and in her hand, but instead of sucking me, she shoves at my pants; as if they’re a distraction we can’t afford. I’m all about getting rid of the distractions. I sit up, kiss her, and then stand.
I’m fully undressed in thirty seconds, facing her with my cock thick and jutted out, the heat of her eyes on my body, on my erection, driving my urgency. I settle on a knee in front of her, at the same moment she rises to her knees to meet me there. Those beautiful full lips of hers part and lift, and I can’t resist another taste. I kiss her, a deep slide of tongue, the taste of her so damn sweet that I want to get lost in her. I take us down to the mattress, side by side and fuck, I know we don’t have a condom, but I just want to feel the wet heat of her body pressed against me for a moment.