Chapter 10 Harper-Rayn
HARPER-RAYN
Men are fucking assholes.
That was the longest drive home of my life.
My thighs are cramping from continuously trying to squeeze them together.
I’ve never experienced this kind of raw desperation before.
I almost lost control and flicked the bean at a red light.
If it weren’t for the guy in the lifted RAM beside me with a perfect view into the driver’s seat of my car, I probably would have done it too.
I come to a stop in the underground parking garage beneath my apartment complex, and as I get out of my Honda and hightail it to the elevator, I mentally list which of the battery-operated friends in my bedside drawer are going to get the job done best.
There’s no denying it, despite how capable they are of getting me where I need to go, nothing could possibly satisfy the raw need within me. Not now that I know exactly how Knight Slater tastes on my tongue.
How could he just leave me panting on his bedroom floor like that, completely unhinged and desperate?
It’s like this is a game to him. I know they say it’s always best to leave them wanting more, but he didn’t need to take it quite so literally.
I didn’t even get a butt slap, let alone a finger or two.
At this rate, I could have used his whole damn fist.
Shit.
I really am a desperate whore for him.
His fist? What the hell is wrong with me? I know I’m not always the classiest woman and don’t fit into the high society world my mother is in, but surely I’m not that bad. I sound like a rabid animal in heat.
Taking the elevator up to my floor, I replay this morning for the millionth time in a row, and just like every other time, I’m left wondering what the fuck it means. I had my step-uncle’s dick in my mouth. And what a magnificent dick it was.
That doesn’t make it any less wrong. Surely this is somehow illegal, right? It’s not as though he’s my actual uncle. That would be completely fucked up, but because he’s married into the family, I suppose it’s only partially fucked up. So, in theory, it’s not really that bad.
Either way, I’m a whore for my uncle’s cock.
On the plus side, I always knew he wanted me.
For years I’ve tried to convince myself that I’ve imagined it all, that this intense sexual tension is nothing but a school-girl fantasy that I’ve completely made up.
But this morning, he proved that it’s as real as it gets.
He’s wanted me all these years, just as badly as I’ve wanted him.
The only question is where do we go from here?
Was it a one-time thing, or are we going to be sneaking into the linen closet to fuck at every family function from now until the end of time? I’m not exactly opposed to that idea.
The elevator dings its arrival on my floor, and I slink out of it, dragging my feet as I contemplate the ins and outs of how a secret relationship with my step-uncle is supposed to play out.
And honestly, since I’ve been so consumed by Knight Slater, I haven’t even thought about the carvings or the black roses that have tormented my brain for the past forty-eight hours.
It’s as though Knight Slater’s cock is some kind of magic pill, and as long as it continues to make everything else fade away, then I’ll become its biggest champion, its most selfish addict.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” a familiar voice comes from down the hall, breaking me out of my Knight Slater’s cock-induced fog.
Izzy stares at me from the end of the hallway, her brow perfectly arched as she takes me in wearing nothing but Knight’s massive T-shirt and holding my damp clothes scrunched in my hand.
“Uuuuuhhhhhh.”
“I know a walk of shame when I see one,” Izzy announces to my whole apartment complex. “And considering Laith is deathly allergic to sleepovers, you better start talking.”
Goddamn it.
I hurry the rest of the way down the hallway and furiously shush my best friend. “Would you shut up? I don’t need the whole building knowing that I spent my night—”
“Getting railed?” she finishes for me.
“Jesus Christ,” I spit. “I didn’t get railed. No railing was going down. Just—”
“The fuck? You’re half naked, wearing some man’s shirt, and you’re trying to tell me that you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life? I swear, Harper’s Bazaar, I have never been more disappointed in you than I am right now.”
I roll my eyes and frantically unlock my door before ushering her into my apartment so that my neighbors aren’t subjected to this conversation. “Get your ass inside before I have to beat it,” I warn her.
“Oh. I have spicy Harper today. Yes please,” she declares, strutting through the open door and leaving me in her wake. “And for the record, I’d love a good beating, but only if it’s followed by a good praise session.”
“You’re going to make someone a very happy man, one day.”
“Don’t I know it,” she says as I kick the door shut behind me, finally giving us just a fraction of privacy for me to dive into the details of my night.
Though considering the walls are paper thin, I don’t really know just how much privacy we’re going to get.
“Spill the beans, you filthy little freak. I want to hear all about it.”
“Okay,” I say, all but skipping across my apartment to delve into the details. “But it’s a little . . . controversial.”
Her face scrunches with confusion, and the way she watches me is as though she’s trying to pluck the details straight out of my brain.
There’s a long silence before her eyes suddenly widen, and she sucks in a loud gasp.
“Holy fucking shit. It’s Daddy Elias. I knew it!
Tell me all about it. I want every fucked-up detail. ”
I scoff in disgust. “It’s not Elias, and for the billionth time, can you please stop calling him Daddy? It makes my skin crawl.”
“But he’s so delicious. I bet he fucks like a lion.”
I give Izzy a blank stare, and she lets out a huff. “Fine,” she says. “I’ll stop imagining riding your stepfather like a cowgirl, but I draw the line at not calling him Daddy. That’s never going to change, so you might as well get used to it.”
“You know you’re a pest, right?”
“Of course I do. Now tell me all about it. Who’s this mystery guy?”
I cringe, not sure how this is going to go down. “It’s Knight,” I tell her. “The forbidden step-uncle, but I swear, it’s not what you think.”
“Wh—huh? Knight? Since when . . . Wait. How did you even end up at his place? He doesn’t live with your mom, does he?”
I shake my head. “No, he’s got his own place.
I just . . . ” I let my words fall away, realizing I don’t have a good explanation for this.
At least, not one that doesn’t include being honest about what happened at the morgue last night, and I’m not about to go into the details with her.
After all, the last conversation about it didn’t go particularly well.
“It wasn’t anything too exciting. I got a flat after work and knew he lived close, so I called him and he helped.
But then we were both drenched from the rain and because his place was closer, we just went there, and he insisted I stay.
You know, because driving in the rain is dangerous and all. ”
She narrows her stare, not believing me for a second, and honestly, she shouldn’t, I’m a terrible liar. Everybody knows it. “And then what?”
“And then nothing. He lent me a shirt because my clothes were wet, and then I slept in the spare bedroom.”
“You slept in the spare bedroom? What the fuck is wrong with you? You had a golden opportunity, and you let it slip right through your fingers.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I mean, not entirely.”
Izzy sits up straighter on the couch, grabbing the cushion from behind her back and hugging it to her chest as she pulls her legs up beneath her, getting extra comfortable. “Don’t even think about holding back on the details.”
I laugh, and a stupid grin cuts across my face. “Okay, so this morning, I could hear him in the shower, and I didn’t want all those awkward goodbyes, so I was going to sneak out, but then I heard him—”
“Heard him what?” she rushes out, her eyes widening as if knowing the juicy part is coming.
“He was getting off. He was groaning and grunting, and those moans. Holy fuck. I’ve never heard anything so hot, and so—”
“Oh please, God, for all that’s holy, tell me you went in there.”
I grin, and she throws herself to her feet, her hands pumping the air. “YES! I fucking knew you were a filthy little slut. Hell yes! I take back anything bad I’ve ever said about you. You’re officially my new queen.”
I laugh as I roll my eyes. “Cool your titties,” I tell her. “It’s not like I stripped down and fucked him stupid.”
“Then what the hell happened?” she demands, dropping back to the couch, her mood quickly plummeting, and for a moment, I fear for the metaphorical crown she just placed on my head. Despite not completely rocking his world, I still feel as though I deserve the title of being her new queen.
“Okay, so I went into his room and stood in the doorway of his ensuite, just long enough to get his attention, and just when he thought he had me, I turned and left. Only, he wasn’t about to let me go.”
“Holy shit. What did he do?”
“He followed me out of the bathroom, butt naked with his cock in his hand, and demanded I stop. Then when I turned around—”
“Oh God. Don’t stop there. WHAT HAPPENED?”
“He said ‘Get on your knees,’ in this deep, seductive tone, and fuck, Izzy. I’ve never dropped to my knees so fast in my life. I was a goner. I was like the perfect little Anastasia Steele, waiting for my master to fuck me into oblivion.”
“Damn. That’s hot,” Izzy breathes. “I need to find a man like that.”
I nod, never agreeing more.
“Tell me he fucked your mouth and called you a dirty little slut?”
I grin. “Would a man like Knight Slater do anything different?”