Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
HARPER
R iding up to Cillian’s house today feels completely different than it did nearly five months ago. It still doesn’t feel like home, but it’s not nearly as intimidating. Especially knowing that my mom is probably waiting right by the front door to come running down the steps and hug me. Declan’s warm hand splayed over my thigh helps, too.
The driver pulls into the circle drive and gets out to unload our luggage while Declan slides out of the backseat and holds his hand out to help me. As soon as both my feet are on the drive, I’m hit with the force of motherly love when her arms wrap around me. She holds me so tight I can barely breathe.
“Mom.” I wheeze out a laugh. “I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.” She immediately drops her arms and takes a step back.
Then, to my surprise, Declan opens his arms for a hug as well. I’ve never seen him hug her before, and judging by the surprised look on her face, it must be a first. She looks up at Cillian, who’s standing at the top of the steps with an inscrutable look on his face. A step beside him is mom’s bodyguard, Felix.
A sense of unease runs through me, not because I don’t trust him, but the fact that his presence is necessary is unsettling. He gives me a nod of greeting and then goes back to surveying the property from his perch on the porch. Declan grabs my bags and his own and begins carrying them into the house while Mom tucks her arm through mine.
“I made cookies for you,” she tells me. “Snickerdoodle.”
I put a hand over my stomach and groan inwardly because I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for another week after the feast we had yesterday. But my mom does make a mean snickerdoodle. By the time she leads me into the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon and sugar is already taunting me.
“Holiday calories don’t count,” she says as she puts a plate in front of me.
“You say that every year.”
Truly, she is glowing. Her skin and hair have never looked better, and I swear every time I see her, she’s gained more much-needed weight. I never realized how unhealthy she was until seeing her so happy and healthy.
“Because it’s true.” She takes a cookie and bites into it. “Not that you need to worry about that.”
“Neither do you.” I smile and bite into one myself.
Her eyes glisten as she nods her head. “I know.” She finishes off the cookie and brushes the crumbs off into the trash. “But now we have to talk about something serious.”
“What?” I put the rest of the cookie into my mouth.
“Arrangements for your father. Do you want a funeral or anything for him?”
I shake my head emphatically. “I want nothing to do with him, his legacy, his funeral.”
“I figured. I don’t either, but Amanda and Michael are pushing for a service.”
I barely spent any time with my grandparents growing up, so their wishes mean nothing to me. “Good for them. I’m not interested.”
“Fair enough.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why is Felix here? Are you in more danger than you usually are?”
Mom’s gaze flicks to the den where Declan, Cillian, and Felix disappeared after putting our bags away. “No, he’s just been staying here. It’s easier when Cillian has to go out if Felix is already on the property.”
That makes sense, but it’s still a bit disconcerting. It could just be a me thing, though. I’ve never been great around new people, especially men.
“Is there anything you want for dinner? Jared will be here in about an hour to make dinner.”
Their chef is truly next level talented, but I shake my head. “No, I’m still so full from what they fed us on the yacht for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes.” Her eyes brighten with curiosity. “Tell me everything about this weekend.”
I fill her in on everything from how stunning the actual boat was to hiking up Mount Olympus to our day at the olive farm. She listens raptly to every word out of my mouth.
Another wave of the endless gratitude I’ve become so familiar crashes through me as we catch up and laugh together. This is the type of relationship I always wanted with her but could never have because of the wedge my father drove between us. He found us becoming close to be a threat, whereas Cillian’s just been leaning against the doorjamb for the past few minutes watching us with a gentle expression in his eyes.
I give in to the urge to grab my mom and wrap her in a tight hug. She’s momentarily stunned by my unusual display of affection but recovers and holds me just as tight. I press my face into her neck and try to not cry as I speak.
“I’m so glad we can have normal moments like this. I didn’t know if we’d ever get here.”
“Me too, sweetheart. I love you so much.” She pulls away just enough to see my face and wipe a stray tear from cheek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get us here sooner.”
“It’s okay.” I sniff as she begins to cry. “You couldn’t. None of it matters now anyway. We’re safe and never going back. He’s dead.”
“How are you feeling about that?” Cillian asks, slowly walking into the kitchen with us.
“I’m fine. It’s not a sad loss in my opinion.” I reach for a tissue and blot my cheeks.
“It’d be okay if you were sad,” Cillian says. “He was your father.”
“You saw how he spoke to me. That’s not a father, it’s a monster.”
He nods. “It was. Just know that if you need anything, a therapist or someone to talk to, I’m here. I’ll get you whatever you need.”
“I appreciate that.” My muscles begin to sag as the emotions mixed with jet lag hit all at once and a yawn comes from nowhere. “I’m going to go lay down for a bit.”
My bedroom door flies open, and Declan steps inside, waking me from a very peaceful nap. His eyes are wide, and his hair is askew as if he’s been running his hands through it. I sit up, trying to blink away my grogginess and orient myself.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just saw something so horrifying I’m not sure I’ll even be the same.”
“What?”
“I walked past the den and heard noises.”
My brow furrows. “Okay?”
“Sex noises.”
“Sex noises?” My eyes widen. “Mom and Cillian?”
“Yes.” He’s pale as a ghost.
“Guess the marriage isn’t so fake now?” I’m fine with it. He treats her like a queen.
“Not just our parents.”
My gaze locks on his. “What?”
“Felix, too.”
I blink. Then blink again. “I did not see that coming.”
“Right?” He shudders.
“Were they all three…?”
“Yes. All were actively participating.”
It’s gross to think about, but I’m also kind of happy for my mom. Way to get what you want.
“Why aren’t you more disturbed by this?”
“Probably because not more than forty-eight hours ago I was getting fucked by two guys at the same time. And it was incredible. I told you I want more. Why would I be grossed out or judge my mom for doing the same thing?”
It’s his turn for his eyebrows to shoot to his hairline. “Did you just say fuck ?”
I pause. “I did, didn’t I?” A smile creeps over my face at the rebellion. For most people it’s a normal part of speech. But for me it feels so much bigger. “Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.”
A huge grin stretches across his face as he strides toward me. “Okay, don’t strain yourself. That was a big step.” He bends down and kisses me long and slow and sweet. “Has my sweet angel fallen from grace?”
“Lock the door, and I’ll show you.”
He quickly turns away from me and flicks the lock. “Are you planning on seducing me?”
“I am.” I pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the floor. My bra comes next. I follow the way his gaze dips from my face to my breasts as he walks back toward me. “Can we try something new?”
“We can do whatever you want.” His hand lifts to touch me, but I step back.
“You can’t touch me.”
“Anything but that.”
“Too late. You already said I can do whatever I want.”
“I was thinking you’d sit on my face or something else mutually pleasurable. Not touching you is torture.”
“You did just call me a fallen angel. Perhaps this is the reason I fell.” I look around for something to use to tie him to the bed. “Strip and lie down on my bed. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t wait to see if he’s doing what I’ve asked. Walking into the bathroom, I head straight for my drawer in the vanity. A variety of hair ribbons sit spooled together in the back. I grab one and walk back into my bedroom.
His eyes light up when he sees me approach. He lifts his wrists toward the headboard. I watch as his breathing deepens while he watches me finish undressing. His abs flex as he inhales sharply when I begin to crawl over him. I hover over his cock, teasing him with the warmth from my center being so close. Instead of immediately tying him up, I drag the ribbon up and down his torso, tracing the valleys of muscle and teasing his nipples.
Ever so slowly I work my way up his body, but my pussy is just out of reach of his touch. I tie the ribbon around his wrists and to the post above his head. After a few test tugs, I’m satisfied that he’s not going anywhere. He tries to wrap his mouth around my nipple, but I sit up, taking my body out of reach.
“You’re not very good at following directions.”
“Never was and never will be.” He smirks up at me. “Especially not when the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is sitting on top of me naked.”
Everything stops. My breath. My thoughts. Even the world around us grinds to a halt as the realization sinks in. He means that. He actually thinks I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
“What?” His brow furrows, and he tries to move his hands. “Fuck,” he mutters and tugs again. “You really tied the hell out of those knots.”
“I did.” I lean forward and capture his lips with mine. I kiss him slowly, pouring every bit of emotion I can into it. This might be the first tender kiss that we’ve shared. Then again, any time we have sex usually follows a fight.
This is different. Maybe it’s because I’m in charge, or maybe it’s just the fact that we’re in the safest environment we could be. He doesn’t have to rely on himself to be the number one caretaker; there are three other people in this house who care as much about my safety as he does. Not that Emerson and Cy don’t care or wouldn’t protect me, they would. But I know that Declan sees himself as responsible for me, and probably them to an extent.
“Let me take care of you.” I look down into the green pools of his eyes. A rare flash of vulnerability flickers in their depths. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking.
“Okay.”
As soon as the word is out of his mouth, I lower mine to his again. I could kiss him like this for hours and never grow bored. The only thing keeping me from doing so is the insistent nudge of his erection on my backside.
Eventually I trail my lips from his, dusting along his jaw and down his neck. I flick my tongue against the spot where I can see his pulse beating steadily. He tilts his head, allowing me better access. A wicked thought flies into my mind, and without thinking, I suck the delicate skin into my mouth. He releases a gravely moan when I bite down over the same spot. I’ve never given anyone hickey, so I’m not sure how long it takes. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because he never tells me to stop, and he has to know what I’m doing.
I finally release his neck after planting one last soft kiss atop the forming bruise. But I’m not done yet. My lips continue on their path down his body. Every swell and dip of muscle gets explored by my hands or my mouth.
By the time I make it down to his dick, it’s hard and cum weeps from the tip for me. I moan at the delicious taste as I lick his tip. If someone had told me six months ago I’d be obsessed with sucking my stepbrother’s cock, I would have looked at them like their head was on fire. He moans as I take him all the way to the back of my throat and swallow once around him.
“Fuck.” His abs tremble. “Harper, wait.”
I pull my mouth from him with a pop, a string of precum and saliva trailing from his tip to my lips. His mouth is parted in desire as he looks down the length of his body at me.
“Yes?”
“Sit on my face while you suck my dick.”
“No, this is about you.”
“There’s nothing I want more than your pussy dripping all your juice down my throat while you fuck me with your mouth. Get up here.”
Fuck it. If that's what he wants, who am I to argue?
I position myself above him and have to bite my lip to keep from crying out when I feel his tongue lave along my slit. It feels so good, so taboo in this position, but Jesus himself couldn’t pull me away now. I lean forward and take his length back in my mouth, moaning around his length as he circles my clit.
My nails dig into his thighs as I balance myself for both of us. He groans against my slick folds when I gag around him. I’m lost in the moment, and it’s not until I feel his hands cupping and spreading my cheeks that I realize he’s come untied. I release him and try to move, but he holds me closer, his fingers spearing into my channel at a brutal pace while my walls begin to tremble around them.
I’m seconds from coming when he lifts me and sets me to the side. In a testament to his athleticism, he smoothly switches our position until I’m on my back looking up at him as he lifts my legs to his chest. He slides inside me, my channel even tighter than it normally is. I grab the sheets beside me as he pumps in and out. A lock of dark hair has fallen over his forehead making him look even more feral than he already is.
“Declan,” I half whisper, half moan his name.
“Yeah, Angel?”
“This was supposed to be about you.” My head arches back as he twists me to the side, a new spot being explored.
His hand snakes between my thighs until he finds my swollen nub. He rubs and circles it as he continues to fuck me into oblivion.
“Making you come is about me.”
Each of his words are punctuated with a thrust of his hips, and I finally freefall into bliss as I climax around him. Pleasure sparks through my body in almost unbearable waves. I clamp down around him and squeeze until I feel him jerk inside me. The heat of release feels endless as both of our chests heave while we catch our breath.
“Declan,” I finally say as my heart returns to normal.
“Yeah?” He pulls out and collapses beside me.
“I love you.”
He goes so still beside me I begin to panic internally. Did I say it too fast? Does he not feel the same way? Is this just a physical thing?
“Say it again,” he commands quietly.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He turns and gathers me in his arms, his face buried in my hair as he says, “I love you, too.” His lips find mine, my taste still coating them. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do. You deserve everything.”