Chapter 17 #2
With one hand tangled in my hair, his other hand explores my body with unmistakable desperation.
Harry presses into me, knuckles-deep, his thumb moving upwards still to tease me further.
My brain feels heavy, the pressure behind my eyes intensifying.
Releasing my hair, he wraps his arm tightly round my lower back, bringing me closer as he pounds his fingers into me harder.
“Say it.” He bites down on my neck hard, adding to the impossible bliss.
“I-I—”
My back arches, the skin of my waist tightening round the wound, but I can’t find it in me to care with the orgasm building intensely in my lower stomach.
Harry drops to his knees. Bringing the material of my dress to my waist with urgency, he rips my underwear away and presses his lips against me.
He sucks my clit into his mouth, lips pulsing round my most sensitive part as he brings his teeth down gently against it.
I nearly stumble forwards, but I force myself to grab onto the bars of the rack behind my head, white-knuckling the cold metal.
Harry’s teeth are a sick torture, but the pleasure is practically unbearable as his slick fingers push back inside.
My mouth opens on a silent cry, the pressure in my head forcing my vision to turn dark.
As my body trembles, one hand drops to the top of his head for stability, and I tangle my fingers in the dark strands of his hair as the orgasm rolls through me.
My body succumbs to nothing but pleasure.
Items topple to the floor, crashing round me, bursting and spilling, adding to the intense ringing in my ears, but thankfully, they mask the whines slipping from my throat.
With my chest heaving, Harry rises to his feet. Wiping the back of his hand against his wet lips, he taunts, “Friends, remember?”
I’m barely able to wrap my head round the post-orgasm bliss before the door is thrown open. Harry’s attention whips to my exposed thighs. Thankfully, I have enough wits about me to quickly brush down the fabric so it’s pooling round my ankles again.
Jamie comes to an abrupt stop in the doorway, his expression screwed tight. “What the hell happened?”
While his attention darts to the mess on the floor, sweeping across the empty bottles and their spilled liquid, I turn my attention to Harry, catching the way he watches me. With a level of truth I didn’t think he was capable of, his mouth moves silently over the words, “You’re mine.”
My mouth twitches.
The fucker really has managed to crack a smile out of me when a livid Jamie is standing mere feet away.
Jamie grabs my hand, tugging me out of the room.
As I cross the threshold, I turn back, catching Harry’s wicked smile as he runs his tongue over his lips.
Despite the hot blush flushing my cheeks, I desperately want to talk to him.
About Greg. About my mother. Whether he’s spoken to Andy. Just everything.
Before I can even consider pulling out of Jamie’s grip and returning to him, he’s already tugging us down the hallway, round a corner, away from prying eyes. My mind catches up with me a moment too slow. I tug at my wrist, pushing through the burn.
Jamie stops suddenly, tugging me against his chest so he can peer down at me with a grave expression. “Did he touch you?”
“If he did?” I raise my brow. “What’s it to you?”
“I can just check.”
His hand drops down with a speed I’m not prepared for, dipping underneath the hem of my dress. My hand darts out, capturing his wrist in a vice grip to stop his pursuit. The anger pouring through me is so intense I shake with the restraint to hold him back.
My fingernails pierce his skin, drawing a thin layer of blood to the surface.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
He taunts, “What would Richard think?”
“If it isn’t completely obvious, I don’t give a fuck what Richard has to say.”
“Do you really think a bullet is the extent of his limits?” Jamie brings his head closer, making no attempt to withdraw his palm. “He has his own plan for you.”
The only benefit to him being so close is that I spot the silver object glistening in his inside pocket. I dart for it quickly, circling my palm round the penknife. Flicking it open with my thumb, I press it against his wrist. His ulnar artery throbs against the metal.
“You wouldn’t.”
Oh, but I fucking would.
I shrug. “Try me.”
His expression lowers into a scowl, and his eyes dart over my shoulder in an attempt to distract me. But as he forces his hand between my legs with a strength I would’ve thought impressive in a less sinister scenario, I slash the knife across his wrist.
Jamie roars as the blade splits the skin, gushing a dark shade of red onto his pressed white shirt.
Snatching his wrist back, the wanker pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and covers his wrist quickly, but it does little to stop the spurt of blood.
The white cloth is instantly seeped in crimson.
“Did you know you can die from an artery bleed in as little as two minutes?” I muse. “Oh, how I love science.”
Hunched over, face paling quickly, he snarls, “You’ll pay for this.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
He threatens, “Just wait for what Richard has in store for you.”
“I’m quivering in my boots.”
I dart my head up as Hudson rounds the corner, his eyes flaring when he catches the two of us red-handed at the crime scene.
He storms over. “Gigi, what did you do?”
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.”
Hudson passes me a sceptical glance before dropping his gaze to Jamie’s wrist. “There’s a doctor from Medical in the ceremony hall.” He turns it over, inspecting the damage. “I’ll take you to him now – he’ll be able to patch you up quickly.”
FUCK.