64. Harper
Chapter 64
Harper
It’s been two months since we arrived at Camp Joy. Apparently, when you’ve been here long enough, when you’ve been good, then you get to go into Cinderhart town for a few hours every second Saturday. If you don’t qualify for an outing, then you get to spend the day riding horses or swimming in the lake.
If your homework’s done.
If you’re not in solo.
If you’ve been good.
I’ve made a point of being good because the moment Kierra told me about our free days, I knew I had to save up my brownie points. They’d never let me go into town since I haven’t been here long enough, but I wouldn’t go even if they let me. I want to stay right here.
With Jude.
He’s been good too. I know, because he leaves me little notes under a rock behind the Sparrow Lodge. I have his last one in my pocket, and I keep shoving my hand in there to touch it.
SATURDAY
That’s all it says. Not that I need more. He could have written an essay and it wouldn’t have meant as much as this one word.
The guys heading into town leave just after breakfast. I’m too nervous to eat, but I force down a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee anyway. I have the day to myself—after I muck out the stables.
It takes me and another girl from the Sparrow Lodge two hours to finish our chores. I’m sweaty and gross by the time I’m done, but unlike school days, I don’t have to ask permission to go back to my room to shower or change into fresh clothes.
I stare into the tiny closet I crammed my clothes into, my mind spinning as I figure out what to wear. I choose soft, dark leggings, a long-sleeved tee, and a puffy sleeveless jacket. It’s starting to get colder out, but in the middle of the day in the full sun, this place is hot.
“Where you headed?”
I pause with my foot in the stirrup. “Uh, just...out.”
Kierra walks over to me, stroking my horse’s head as she smiles at me. “I’d love a ride,” she says. “I’ll come with.”
“No!”
Her eyes widen, and I quickly slip my foot out of the stirrup so I can face her. “I mean, I just... Brian gave me an assignment to do. I’ve been working on it all week, but I need to clear my head, you know?”
Sympathy floods Kierra’s eyes. “Oh, yeah.” She crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “God, I hate those.” She rolls her eyes and glances around the stable. “I’ve lost count of how many ‘assignments’ I’ve had to do.” She puts the word in air quotes, her sneer dripping disdain. “Best of luck to you.” She pats my horse and wanders out of the stable again.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding and quickly mount my mare. I took several horse riding lessons after I moved into Dearth Manor, but none after school started. It all comes back to me though as I cluck and gently dig my heels into the horse’s side to get her moving.
The ride out to the borders of Camp Joy’s property is beautiful. The distant mountains frame rolling green hills dotted with groves of oak trees. There’s a small stream winding through the property, and the crystalline sound of it washing over its rocky bed is the perfect accompaniment to the bird song that follows me on my ride.
Half an hour into my ride, a jagged, broken wall peeks up through the dense foliage ahead, and I angle my horse toward it. My chest is tight, my palms sweating where I grip the reins.
Fuck, why am I so nervous? I shouldn’t be building this up to something insane in my head. That’s the easiest way to be disappointed.
I guess it’s because I can’t rely on booze to give me courage, or numb my emotions anymore. I’ve had a rough time. I wish I was joking about the assignment but I have one due Monday. And it’s not the first I’ve had.
At first I refused to tell a complete stranger about my life. What business was it of his, anyway? But the onsite therapist, Brian, just kept picking at my scabs until I couldn’t stand it anymore.Always better just to rip off the band-aid, right? I finally broke down and told him about the shit that happened before I got sent to Camp Joy, spending over two hours with him. I felt like I’d been put through the wringer when I was done—head aching, throat raw, body numb...but the next day I felt like a new person.
I’m still not looking forward to my latest assignment, though.
The topic is love. How am I supposed to write about something I’ve never experienced? I suppose I could do an essay on what it feels like not to be loved. But I get the feeling Brian wouldn’t like that.
Jude steps out of the shadows of a nearby oak tree and grabs hold of my horse’s halter. “You took your time.”
“I had chores.”
“So did I.”
“Well, mine were worse than yours.”
He lifts one side of his mouth into a smile. “Aren’t they always?”
I let go of the reins, letting him lead my horse to a nearby tree. His horse is already tied up and snacking on some long, sweet grass. They’re even close enough to the stream that they can drink water if they want.
As I slide down from my saddle, Jude comes up behind me and grabs hold of my waist, keeping my back turned to him. My horse whinnies and side steps to get away from us, and I can’t blame the poor creature because I’m pretty sure it can feel the dark energy pouring off Jude, just like I can.
“Let me just go wash my hands,” I manage in a voice that’s much steadier than how I feel right now.
“Hurry, Harper,” he rumbles in my ear.
I bend down beside the stream and rinse my hands in the freezing water. I expect Jude to be behind me again when I stand, but I’m alone.
I duck down beneath a low-hanging bough and emerge into a small clearing inside the grove of oak trees. I didn’t even know this place existed until Jude left directions to it under the rock. On my next free Saturday, I rode out this way with Kierra, making sure not to get too close. But I got a good enough glimpse at the time to know that Jude had picked this place for a reason.
Yes, it’s far from the main buildings. Secluded. Such gorgeous scenery. But that’s not why.
The dappled shadows retreat, bathing me in sunlight. But when I look around, all I see are trees and the burned-out shell of an abandoned building. Caved in roof, crumbling walls. Moss and ivy have reclaimed the majority of the structure. Now it blends into the environment almost seamlessly, an aberration no more.
I peek around the wall and smile when I see Jude lounging on a pile of blankets in the center of the small building. There’s a fire pit to one side, long since filled up with dead leaves and cobwebs. But for a yard around the blankets, someone swept away all the dust and debris, baring a rough stone floor.
Someone? It was Jude. He’s been building this nest for weeks. He obviously has more liberties than I do. After all, I’m a whoring alcoholic who drugged my stepbrother. All Jude ever did was take some creative license with my amateur porn video.
That’s how Camp Joy sees it.
I no longer care how our parents see it. They’re living their best lives in their mansion in Blackstone Heights, no longer plagued by their unruly children. They even shipped Rosie to a special needs boarding school out of state. Jude was livid when he found out about it, but we’ve already decided to go see her as soon as we’re out of here. In a way, I think it’s best. She was so lonely at home while we were there. At least now she has other kids to play with, and I’m sure they’ve got swimming lessons she can attend every afternoon. At least, that’s what I like to think.
Jude glances up at me, his dark eyes heavily shadowed in the bright day. “Do you like it?”
I don’t even think I can speak. I inch closer, trying to take in everything all at once, but as soon as I’m within reach, Jude grabs my wrist and pulls me down beside him. With a roll of his hips, he’s pinning me to the bed of soft blankets, the bulge in his jeans digging into my thigh.
He pushes my hair out of my face and drinks me in with a sweep of his darkly intense eyes. “Did you do what I told you to?” he asks quietly, and then drops his head to paint a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Yes,” I sigh.
“Every night?”
“Yes.”
“And you were thinking of me the whole time?”
“Of course.”
“Not Brody or Shane?”
I shove at his chest, and he chuckles. “I can leave,” I tell him.
“But you wouldn’t,” he murmurs, grazing the side of my neck.
Shivers tear through me. “No,” I admit grudgingly.
He cups my face with one hand, the other stroking my hair. When our lips meet, the world stops spinning. Jude groans, his fingers wrapping around my jaw, forcing my head back so he can skim his lips over my chin, down my throat, across my collarbones.
We’ve had a few moments like this, but they’ve always been so fleeting. A stolen kiss between classes, heated glances when we pass each other on the property. He told me to make myself come every night at midnight, and to think of him while I was doing it. It was torture, of course, but since I knew he was doing the same thing at exactly the same time, I could pretend we were beside each other, that it was his fingers touching me, not mine. I like to think he thought the same.
Now my hands are all over him—stroking his neck, digging into the hard flesh of his shoulders, dragging down his back. He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans, his sculpted flesh barely contained by the thin fabric. I forgot he was this ripped, this...perfect. It feels like a century has passed since our splash in the pool.
I can’t believe how much has changed since then.
He glides a hand over my breast, then my belly, before slipping it under my clothes. When he finds out I’m not wearing a bra, the pleased rumble he makes sends an ache through my core. I’m already wet for him, already anticipating a hundred nasty things he can do to me. I scrubbed every inch of my body for him, put on perfume, slathered myself in lotion. I shaved everywhere, even in places I haven’t shaved before.
He lifts my torso and slips off my puffy vest, then pulls my shirt over my head, bundling both under my head for a pillow. My nipples tighten as air slides over my naked skin, and for a long moment all Jude does is stare down at my breasts like he’s never seen them before. Slowly, teasingly, he pulls my nipples into his mouth, gently sucking on them until they soften against his warm tongue. Then he blows on my damp skin until they’re hard...and does it all over again.
“God, that feels good,” I murmur, arching my shoulders.
His only response is another low rumble that I feel all the way to my fucking core. I grab his hand and try to make him touch me through my pants, because I’m fucking aching for him already, but he twists his hands and catches hold of my wrists, pinning them to my belly so he can take his time grazing on my tits without me interfering.
“Jude, please, I...”
“I told you I was going to take my time.”
“But I can’t ,” I whimper. “Please.” I stretch out my fingers, managing to brush the tip of his cock before he can pull away.
He burrows his head into my neck, groaning as he shudders against me. “Fuck, Harper,” he mutters angrily. “You touch me again, and I’ll torture you until you’re screaming for mercy.”
“You’re already torturing me,” I whine.
Jude chuckles darkly against my hair. “Princess, if you think this is torture, then you should get on your horse and fuck off out of here right now.” He draws back, black eyes latching onto mine, sending a shiver through me. “Because you won’t be able to handle what’s coming.”
My lips are parted, a shallow breath easing in and out of me. “No, please.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You’ll behave?”
I nod. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“No, no,” he tuts as a smile pulls at his mouth. “I want you to be bad for me. Will you do that? Will you be bad for me?”
He drops his head before I can reply, sucking my nipple back into his mouth. This time, his teeth graze against the tender bud, dragging a gasp from me as my back arches. I’m dimly aware that he’s urging my leggings down my hips, that more of my naked skin is being exposed to the warm stroke of afternoon sunlight, but it’s too easy to get lost in the masterful swirls of his tongue.
Until he moves his mouth down my belly and sinks his head between my legs. At the first rough lick he gives my pussy, I’m too shocked even to push him away. When he pushes my thighs apart, I let him. When he slips his finger inside me, I buck against his mouth like the fucking hussy that I am.
With every flick of his powerful tongue, I sink deeper and deeper into an ocean of hedonistic pleasure. I hear myself moaning “Fuck,” over and over again, interspersed with whispered prayers. “God”, “Please”, “Jude.”
But we’re in our own world now. No one can find us out here. No one can hear my breathless yell when I come in his mouth as he fingers me, his tongue lapping my clit into orgasm.
He grins up at me, a second finger joining the first, those gentle thrusts never stopping. I groan, weakly trying to push him away. But then I hear his belt, and I feel smooth skin instead of rough denim against my legs, and I couldn’t want anything more than his body against mine.
The weight when he settles on me is surreal. He should be crushing me, but I can still take hitched breath after hitched breath. He cups my face in his hands, and I smell myself on his fingers, but then he’s kissing me and I can taste myself too.
I lift my quivering thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist, opening to him. His cock slides over my soaked pussy, but it’s like he’s content to kiss me until the cows—literally—come home. I drag my nails down his back, rake his shirt up his back, claw it over his head. Now we’re both naked, twined around each other in our makeshift bed in the middle of nowhere.
He moves against me, his cock dragging over my clit, his smooth skin warming mine. “I want to taste you again,” he whispers.
“No,” I blurt out, grabbing his ass in both hands as he tries to slide down my body. “I need you, Jude.” My breath catches when he sinks his fingertips into my thighs. “ Inside .”
“Yeah?” he murmurs, leaning on his elbow so there’s space between us, so he can tease his fingers over my nipples, down my belly, against my clit. “In here?”
With a violent thrust, he shoves two fingers inside me.
“God, yes!” My thighs clamp around him, and I grab his wrist, forcing his fingers deeper inside me. It hurts a little, and that makes me nervous. His dick is a lot thicker than two of his fingers. But I don’t care. My body is craving him like it used to crave a sip of wine, a gulp of vodka, a bottle of Bailey’s.
No, it’s gone past need. If I don’t have him, if he doesn’t take me—and soon— I won’t survive.
His fingers speed up, his eyes intent on mine as he watches for my reaction. I think I’m getting close again, but I don’t want to come like this. I want his cock inside me so I can unravel while he’s filling me.
So instead of trying to fight him off, I reach down and grab his shaft with both hands.
Jude instantly stops moving. “I told you?—”
He cuts off with a pained groan when I give his dick a hard pump with both my fists. “Harper—” he tries again.
But I’ve had enough of his threats, of the torture . I need him, and I need him now. With a tight grip on him, I urge him on top of me again, until his body sinks between my legs, until his cock is over my belly. I give him another hard, slow pump, relishing the way his body shivers at my touch.
A drop of clear liquid seeps from him. I smear it into his smooth crown with my thumb.Jude shudders against me, a deep-throated groan spilling from his twisted mouth. “If you had any idea how close I am...”
“Then fuck me.”
His gaze skips over my body, drilling into my eyes. Then he dips his hips and presses against my entrance. I’m so wet down there, so fucking slippery, that when I try to guide him between my folds, he slips out.
Dropping to one elbow, Jude pushes my hands out of the way and grabs the base of his cock. His eyes slide down my body again and fix at the point between my legs where his cock presses against me.
Slowly, he guides his dick between my folds. Just as slowly, he eases in.
I gasp, my back arching, and he stops. He’s so big, stretching me so tight, I’m sure I’ll rip if he goes deeper.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, starting to pull out.
“No, don’t.” I grab his lower back, sliding my hands down and grabbing his meaty ass. “Deeper.”
“But I’m hurting you...” His voice trails off, and I’m forced to open my eyes.
When I see his expression, it’s all I can do to blink back the sudden tears.
“Harper, why didn’t you say something?” he hisses.
“Don’t stop, please. I want this.”
“I can’t—” His body moves under my hands.
I know he’ll never touch me again. My virginity is more sacred to him than it is to me. He was fine with fucking a broken thing, but not with breaking me. Before he can escape, I tighten my legs around his waist and buck my hips up.
The pain is intense and so, so deep when it hits. I gasp, grit my teeth, dig my nails into his skin.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, his eyelids fluttering. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight.”
I can barely breathe, never mind speak. Jude drops his head, brushing his lips against mine, and slowly forces his way deeper inside me.
Heat and pain flash through me, and it’s all I can do not to yell at him to stop.
But then he kisses me, and the pain melts away. It’s still there—a stretching, aching burn in my core—but his hard, languid kiss forces me to focus on his lips, not his cock.
When he pulls out, I’m almost relieved, but he pushes back into me a second later. The pain is less, but the heat is still there, scorching me.
“Fuck,” he groans into my ear. “I can’t believe you’re letting me break you.”
I knew it. This is going to change everything. He might still see this through, making sure I’m good and torn up inside, but will he ever want me again after this? Or will it just remind him of what he stole from me, even though I begged him to take it?
He kisses my throat, my chin, my cheekbone. And then leans back while he’s buried balls-deep inside my aching core. “Why are you crying?”
“Because it hurts, you fucker,” I murmur, swiping angrily at my tears.
“Why are you really crying?” He cups my face in his hands again and starts moving inside me. The friction that builds is torturous—slow and satisfying yet dizzyingly frustrating.
“Because I don’t want this to end,” I whisper. I try to blink back the tears streaming down my face, but they just keep coming.
Jude kisses me again, soft and gentle, fucking me so gently I could scream.
“Princess,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I’ll never be able to get enough of you.”