12. Harper
Chapter 12
Harper
Too hot.
Fever engulfs me.
My mind drifts awake on slow-moving clouds, my legs moving restlessly. Cian’s mouth remains stamped in my memory, coaxing my mouth open with that talented tongue of his.
The pulsing between my thighs alerts me that other parts of my body are waking up as well.
The fog begins to lift from my brain, and I find myself swaddled in an infernal cocoon. My leg twitches before I kick all the blankets away from my body.
My eyes fly open at light speed as yesterday’s memories steamroll my mind. A small jolt of panic punctures me.
I blink rapidly, expecting to see the bedside table and be lying in the same position I was in when I fell asleep.
Instead, I come face-to-face with a solid wall of muscle.
Every muscle in my own body stills.
Oh crap. Somehow, over the course of the night, I went from Cian spooning me into his giant frame, my back plastered to his chest, to… this ?
One of my legs hooks over his hip, and one of his massive thighs is tucked between mine. If he were awake, he could probably feel my pussy throbbing against his left quad.
The same way I can feel his enormous erection pressing into my left thigh.
Holy. Shit.
I know Cian’s a large man, but still. The heat, the length, the girth of his hard cock destroys my resolve to inch out of his embrace and attempt another jailbreak.
Is this what it’s like to wake up with Cian every day? Insane warmth, amnesia-level deep sleep, and a hard, aroused, hot-as-hell male body to drool over in the morning?
Desire courses through my veins.
Stay… focused …Harper.
Cian shifts, his thick thigh rubbing between my legs, and heat builds in my core. I pinch my eyes closed and try to deep breathe my way out of this aching need.
Oh, god. Why couldn’t Cian just screw me last night? If he had, we would have expelled all this lust clouding my judgment in one giant orgasm, and I’d have no problem detangling myself from this sexy mess I’m in.
Why does my body yearn to leech his heat and power directly through my skin? Why is the man so freaking hot?
And why, oh why, does he have to sleep practically naked? His bare flesh all around me, touching mine in places it shouldn’t… it’s overwhelming.
Every breath I take intoxicates me more on that heady scent that swirls off his body.
The desire to lick his chest rushes through me like a virus. Feverish and silly, I breathe him in and nestle a little closer into his embrace.
One of his tree trunk biceps serves as a pillow for my head, and the other drapes over my side like a sexy seat belt.
The fabric of my day-old work uniform is not nearly enough to keep Cian out. I might as well be naked too.
And I remember my underwear on the entryway floor.
I am naked. At least, downtown, where it counts most.
Cian grumbles awake, like a bear after hibernation. The rumble vibrates through his chest into mine. His lips rest near my forehead, and it would be nothing to tilt my head up and mash them to mine.
Wait, what?
What’s the hell’s wrong with me?
You would think, after the horrible upbringing I had, I’d steer clear of violent, dangerous, domineering men. Yet here I am, yearning for a kiss from the poster child of violent, dangerous, and domineering.
I’m going to need so much therapy before this is over.
“Good morning,” Cian grumbles again, this time in a human language that sounds remarkably like English.
Before I can respond, he stretches his giant body against me like a cat, flattening us to the mattress, him on top of me.
And oh man, his weight .
It’s like I’m being crushed beneath the world’s sexiest cruise ship anchor.
I croak out a froggy greeting. “Hi.”
Without warning, Cian’s big, hot mouth seals to a spot on my neck. Once I recover from the initial surprise, I assume this is some manner of a morning kiss. But when Cian sucks on my sensitive skin, his tongue darting out to taste me, I begin to assume differently.
Is he marking me? On purpose?
And if so, why is the idea of him deliberately giving me a hickey so damn hot?
Cian sinks his teeth into my flesh, and the sensation arouses me so much that I make that weird sound between a gasp and a moan.
“You like that?” He whispers the words into my flesh, sexy as sin, light as a breath. “You like it when I bite you?”
“No.” I rush the syllable out too fast for it to sound true.
Cian chuckles in reply. “Liar.”
That single word cuts through the lust-fueled maze I’ve gotten lost in once again.
Don’t forget that Cian’s the liar here.
He’ll say anything and do whatever he has to in order to bring me home.
But what he doesn’t know is that I will too.
That’s my secret weapon.
The idea hits me like lightning. My next escape plan.
I know exactly how to get away from Cian Mahoney. For good this time.
“Fine, then.”
“Hmm?” The confusion in Cian’s voice is genuine.
“I admit it.” I lift my head into the curve of his neck and exhale, making him shiver. “I like it when you bite me.”
My stomach roils when I recognize that my father was the one who taught me this voice, the one I’m using to bamboozle Cian with right now.
Speak slowly , he used to tell me. Challenge them with the tone of your voice. Tease them. Pretend to be nervous and make them think you’ve never done this before. Every man wants to be the first to plow the field.
My skin crawls as all of Thomas Brennan’s poisonous morsels of wisdom flood my mind. Straight from the bestselling playbook How to Be a Cockteasing Victim 101.
I’ve played this girl a thousand times. I know her lines, her improvisations, every carefully crafted facial expression. Each gentle, intentional gesture. Yet, I’ve never performed the character in this particular way. It’s never happened, not even once, that someone assigned to me to “distract” was a man I might actually choose to spend time with if given the option.
I need to proceed with caution. Just because one of this character’s lines applies to me, the real Harper, doesn’t make this any less of a performance or mean that anything that happens between this enforcer and me should be construed as real.
Believing otherwise would be a mistake of cosmic proportions.
I don’t want to embody this character so well that I forget who I truly am.
That’s never happened before. And I won’t change my streak today.
Right on cue, Cian draws back from me, holding his head above mine so he can look me in the eye. I expend more effort than I’d like to keep my face neutral, rather than succumbing to what my body aches to do, which is cower from the intensity of his green-eyed gaze.
It’s visceral, the way his eyes read mine. He scrutinizes my face, and I try not to squirm over the fact that I have no idea what he’s searching for.
He lowers his lids with intention. “Suspicious.”
Shock breaks me out of character. “What?”
“Last night, you wanted to get away from me…” He drags his teeth along the skin of my neck. “And now you like it when I bite you.”
Crap. Crappity crap crap.
Trying to pull myself together, I rearrange my expression. “Is that a conflict of interest?”
He chuckles into my throat. “You tell me.”
Surely Sir Sleeps-Around-A-Lot isn’t suspicious of the many admirers who bow before him like they’re praying to the god of cocks. Why would he be suspicious of me, especially if he’s hankering for some kind of triple-X reunion?
This isn’t how this is supposed to go.
“I’m being honest.” I’m not even buying my so-called persuasiveness.
“And I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Cian nudges my nose with his. “The one time you agreed to go home with me, you left me holding my dick in an alleyway.”
The memory slaps me across the face.
Shit. I forgot all about that promise.
While working for my dad, I never shared history of any kind with my past targets, so I’m in uncharted territory. If I want Cian to trust me long enough to manipulate him, I need to do damage control.
Ignoring the anxiety causing me to tremble, I drape my arms around Cian’s neck and lower my gaze to his mouth in a way I pray seems natural and not like the nervous tic of a D-list actor.
“It’s my one regret, you know.” I tilt my head at his. Not in preparation to kiss him.
I want him to kiss me.
When he lowers his forehead to mine, I know I’ve got him.
“What’s that?”
“That we didn’t get to finish what we started that night.”
Cian bristles at my words. A literal tremor glides through his body, radiating into mine through every place where our bodies touch.
“And whose fault is that?” His low voice shoots straight to the south of my border.
The amount of bitterness lacing his voice surprises me. I never expected he’d care this much that I stood him up.
You’ve got this, Harper.
“Can’t a girl make amends?” I release the question as slowly as I can, so Cian won’t pick up on the shakiness in my voice.
He scrutinizes my face for ten more interminable seconds and then hits me with a savage kiss. Every thought in my head disintegrates into animal lust.
Cian slides his hot tongue between my lips, rhythmic and fluid, seducing my mouth with every stroke. He nips my lower lip and the sting shoots through me, all the way down to my clit. The sensation arches my back, and he snags the chance to snake his forearm around my waist, wrapping me in the crook of his arm.
My heart rate skyrockets.
He squeezes me tighter, stealing what little air remains in my lungs. I can’t breathe, and that’s exactly what he wants as he suffocates me with those sensuous lips. Once again, it’s like he’s fucking my mouth with his. Before Cian, I never once thought about a kiss that way, but I’m pretty sure he could kill me just from his tongue in my mouth alone.
I dropped my character the nanosecond his lips crashed into mine.
My tongue meets his, stroke for stroke. My head pounds, lost in a deoxygenated fog of steamy kisses and building pleasure.
When Cian unseals his mouth from mine, forever has ticked by, and yet it’s still too soon. He pants for air the same as I do, his cheek resting against mine.
“So, how are you going to make it up to me?”
Trapped in a state of lust fog, his question stuns me.
Wasn’t that insanely hot kiss payment enough? He’s saying he wants more ?
Last night, I was ready to let him fuck me. But he passed up that golden opportunity. Now we don’t have the time. Not if I’m going to hatch my escape plan.
I shove away the disappointment of my inner slut, who’s raging at the thought of me tearing myself away from Cian before he satisfies the ache inside us.
I feel for her.
“If I make it up to you, what do I get?” I pout the question, ghosting featherlight kisses along his jaw.
“What do you want?”
His green eyes drill into mine, and the steel pipe trapped between our stomachs tells me his eyes aren’t the only part of his body that’s eager to drill.
I just wish that thought didn’t cause me to quake with excitement.
“To go to work today.” I look Cian straight in the eyes. “I want to say a proper goodbye.”
He judges me in silence, examining me as though I’m a bug beneath a microscope. I know it’s a long shot, but I’m praying the tag team of lust plus male ego will prove more than Cian can overcome this early in the morning.
“Those people mean a lot to you.” Cian pushes a gentle kiss to my forehead, then my cheek. “I can tell.”
My heart flutters. I’m dumbfounded by the appearance of Cian acting…kind? Attentive? Considerate? I can’t even put a sentence together in response, so I nod instead.
Speechless, I lie there like a dead fish until he draws back enough to say, “Fine. You can go to work today.”
I expect him to get off me, but he doesn’t budge. In fact, he maneuvers his body weight, pressing himself hard against my lower half until my legs naturally spread around his waist. When the line of his cock under thin, breathable cotton meets the heat of my bare seam, the delicious pressure rolls my eyes to the back my head.
Crap. I hope to God Cian missed that.
When I recover, his eyelids are at half-mast, his expression serious. Desire blazes from him.
Yeah, no, he definitely caught that. Time for a distraction.
“Thank you. When can I go?” I ask in my meekest voice.
“ After you make it up to me.”
My tripping heart ceases to beat as my mind shrieks an alert.
It’s clear I’m in dangerous territory, so why does my whole body tremble with yearning? As if today’s my birthday and a sexy present sits in front of me, just waiting to be unwrapped?
Get your shit together, Harper. You’re trying to escape him, not jump his bones, remember?
I gulp. The next question is the million-dollar one in this scenario.
“How…can I make it up to you?”
“Feed me breakfast.” He smiles wide, revealing the gorgeous white teeth of a killer shark.
Breakfast. That’s what Cian wants? Me in the kitchen cooking him pancakes? Is this a joke?
My eyes narrow. He’s poking fun at me, isn’t he? Cian knows I’m trying to manipulate him, and only a request this difficult would break my charade from the inside out.
“Well?” He flashes another triumphant smile to dazzling effect. “Do I have your consent?”
Never could’ve been prepared for this answer, but I guess I should be relieved he wants something so small.
“Yes.” I try to mask my disappointment.
He’s about to find out that hanging around an amazing chef doesn’t mean that I absorbed any of her talent through osmosis.
The only thing I can cook is a glass of water.
“Good.” Cian’s growl sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m starving.”
He releases the arm around the small of my back. A second later, he has both my legs folded over his shoulders.
When he drags his tongue the length of my bare-naked, needy seam, I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle a startled shriek.
Cian’s giant hands spread my thighs so he can zero in on my clit with his hungry mouth.
“ Oh …” My head drops against the mattress like a bowling ball while my back curves toward the sky. “Oh, god.” The pleasure cocoons me, coming at me from all sides. Heat invades my body. Every inch of my skin must be pink and flushed.
My gasps and moans get lost beneath the noise of Cian lapping me up like an ice cream cone. I’m so thankful none of the assignments my father sent me on turned out like this .
Miniature convulsions reverberate through my hips. With every heartbeat, orgasm swoops closer.
He nudges my clit with the tip of his nose, like an Eskimo kiss for my pleasure button. I keep gasping, but ecstasy steals air from my lungs faster than I can inhale it.
My nails dig into the mattress like knives.
My hands itch to drown themselves in the tempting dark curls tickling my inner thighs. If I were smart, I’d push him away.
Instead, I give into my urge, tangle my fingers in his soft hair, and rock my hips into his face.
When he sinks two fingers into me and curls, I cry out, the sound jagged and raw. A victorious snarl gutters in Cian’s throat, mortifying me as he grazes his teeth against my sensitive bud.
Sweet lord.
He finishes me off in three seconds, sending my hips grinding all over his perfect face. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. The way I collapse against the sheets, even though I was already lying down, breathing hard as hell, expecting to black out any moment from the sheer physical satisfaction…
This is his idea of breakfast?
That’s the only coherent thought my brain can muster in my current pleasure-drunk state. Cian’s laughing at me again. Over the roaring of my pulse in my ears, I can barely hear it. But I know what that smirk means.
He’s claiming victory.
What a fucking paradox. He just gave me an orgasm better than anything money can buy, but I feel cheap.
Cian rises from his post between my hips and, gripping the backs of my thighs, guides them closed. He’s propped on his knees, my legs upright and parallel to his hulking body, my heels resting on his shoulders.
He’s going to fuck me now, I realize with a start of fear and exhilaration.
I can’t see what he’s doing. The weapon below his hemline is obscured by my still-twitching thighs, but when the velvety head brushes my hamstrings, anticipation swells in my chest.
Cian’s about to nail me to this mattress, and escape plan or no escape plan, I want him to. I want this like I’ve never wanted anything or anyone, yet I’m so terrified, I press my eyes shut.
But Cian knows how to make them fly open. He shoves his cock between my thighs, which are still wet with the orgasm he wrung out of me. When I dare a glance at his face, all the smugness has disappeared. Cian’s lost in the rushing rapids of lust, his perfect mouth hanging open as he thrusts his shaft between my closed legs.
Not inside me, but close. Close enough for every stroke to hit the most sensitive part of me.
The friction seems to do it for him too.
“Cross your legs.” Cian’s voice roughens with the same hunger thundering inside me.
My ankles cross at his command, like they have a will of their own.
His giant forearm curls around my overlapped knees, holding my legs tight as he thrusts harder and faster through my slick thighs.
“Fuck,” Cian curses as his cock charges toward my heaving middle. Watching the crown pump between the skin of my legs is pornographic for more reasons than I can articulate, even if I weren’t high on the lust the sensation gives me.
Cian’s groans echo into my bones. I’ve never been so aroused or seen someone so aroused as Cian is while using me like a sex toy.
And he’s not even inside me.
The excitement Cian’s body elicits in mine, this pulse-pounding high people scale mountains and jump out of planes for… Incredible isn’t the right word.
This is impossible , the way a second orgasm coils tighter.
I’m about to come again just from this.
Cian’s fingertips dig into the bare skin of my thigh. I want his fingertips everywhere. He screws his cock deeper, somehow shoving between my thighs and striking my clit with every single stroke.
We moan in a harmony that would’ve embarrassed me on any other day with any other person. I don’t know why, but I’m not afraid to be my dirtiest with Cian. I’m only afraid to lose myself in the danger zone of his magnetic pull.
“You gonna come again?”
“Y-yes,” I gasp, as he grinds the tip of his dick against me.
“Then do it. Now.”
With a cry and one final thrust, the pressure explodes. Contractions hit me in prolonged waves, and I ride them out until they finally disappear.
When my eyes flutter open, he’s staring with a rapt expression. “What?”
“You’re beautiful when you let go like that,” he husks in an oddly hoarse voice.
Heat rises to my cheeks. I have no clue how to respond to that, but I can’t say I don’t like it.
“My turn. You want me to come for you?” Cian begins pumping again, slapping the back of my thighs with the force of his hips as he drills into the tight gap.
I nod, delirious obedience taking me over.
“Tell me where.”
“I…” The second word doesn’t come out because Cian thrusts his cock so deep through the folds, he almost slips that humongous thing through my entrance. “I want you to…”
“Yeah?”
I lick my lips and blurt it out. “Come all over me.”
The words sound sultry and strange.
Maybe that’s because I’ve never been so sexually honest before. I don’t know what this new version of me means.
He moans my name, yanks my dress over my head, and then mumbles in Gaelic , as if hearing my name in his sexy mouth wasn’t enough to finish me a second time. After that, Cian erupts.
He turns my navel and my breasts into a Jackson Pollock, painting me with abstract strokes of semen.
We both huff like we just ran the Honolulu Marathon.
Once he finishes with a final groan, we lie there unmoving.
He’s frozen over me, arm still holding my legs together, his cock still between my thighs. As our breathing slows, our eyes meet naturally, like two streams running into each other.
I expect to find another smirk. For him to say, now, thank me . And I would. Without hesitation or a shred of sarcasm. In this moment, I’m that far gone.
But what I find lurking in the depths of Cian’s green eyes isn’t well-deserved braggadocio. It’s a hint of fear.
He’s gazing at me like I’m the wolf, and he’s the defenseless prey.
We stare so long that his seed dries on my skin. Only then does he release my legs.
“Now, you can go to work.”
Confusion twists inside me as Cian climbs off the bed, grabs his clothes off the floor, and disappears into the bathroom, leaving me lost and alone and wondering what the hell just happened.