19. Wyatt
NINETEEN
WYATT
“Visitors?” Her eyes widened. “What kind of visitors?”
Her body was stiff like a board in my arms. I could tell that she knew the news I was about to give her wasn’t good.
As I rubbed her bare arm, my hands were met with goosebumps and I pulled the comforter over her shoulder. “Things seem to be progressing here and I need some backup.”
She snuggled into my chest, her lips against my bare skin. “Progressing? Backup?”
“Yeah.” It was the best I could come up with.
We were lying on our sides, our bodies facing, her arm draped over my side and mine rested on top of hers. It was familiar, comfortable in a way that I’d never experienced. As soon as her breath heated my skin, I was rock hard, and of course I wanted to fuck her. But lying together, intertwined, was almost better.
Almost.
My cock throbbed as if to remind me that it had a say in the matter.
Harper’s voice was quiet. “The kind of visitors that make supermodels look homely?”
She knew exactly who I was talking about. But still, I furrowed my brow and played stupid. It was a smart move. “What are you talking about? America’s Next Top Model ?”
A smile spread across her face, replacing the look of concern. “How do you even know that show?”
“It’s my job to fit in. I have to know pop culture,” I groaned. I didn’t tell her that a few of the women I’d dated in the past had been obsessed with the show – and some had even starred on it.
“When is she getting here?”
It was as though Harper didn’t want to say her name. “Valentina and the South Americans?”
“Yeah. Them.” Her brow was back to being knitted and I wished there was a way I could make it all better. Valentina had been the one to tear us apart, after all. I understood why Harper disliked the woman.
“They’re on the private jet now. Depending on conditions, they should touch down by morning.”
Harper bit her lip. “Is it okay if I avoid seeing her? I kind of…” she paused. “Hate her.”
I laughed, then immediately felt bad. “Sorry. It’s not a laughing matter. I hate her too. It’s just… I’ve never heard you be so blunt like that before. It’s kind of turning me on.” I crooked my arms so I could hold her by her wrist and guide her palm to my cock.
“Mr. Westwood,” she purred softly, her voice low and sultry. “You seem to have something in your pants.”
She squeezed my cock and a guttural moan escaped my throat. I gulped. “Did you think I was joking?”
“No, Sir. I don’t think you would ever joke about hiding a hammer in your pants.” She giggled as she stroked my shaft. I hated wearing underwear, so her fingertips met with the soft skin of rock hard hammer.
“A hammer?” I flipped Harper onto her back and straddled her, resting my dick on the v between her legs. It was warm, wet, and fucking perfect. “Baby, only if it’s a sledge hammer.”
I shifted to rest the head of my cock at her opening. God, she felt amazing, and I wondered when the thrill of plunging into her warmth was going to wear off. With Harper, it felt like every time was the first goddamn time. Her pussy was the tightest I’d ever experienced, yet it could handle my girth.
She rested her hands on my thighs. “Before you do any pounding, are you sure that we’re not taking any risks here?” Her eyes softened.
The baby thing. Harper knew she couldn’t get pregnant from me, and we had agreed that we were okay with it. But I knew women. She could easily change her mind. And then what would I do? I couldn’t stand the thought of losing my soulmate.
“Tim assured me that it’s never happened before,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows and continued to trail her fingertips along my quads, sending shivers both up and down my legs simultaneously.
“How many of… you have been with one of us?”
She knew that we didn’t like the words the humans had given us, and my heart swelled every time I heard her make the effort to not call us by those names.I inhaled and looked to the ceiling, pretending to count on my fingers. “More than you’d imagine. We’ve been hiding in society for almost a century. You can get a lot of bedroom action in over a hundred years.”
And not one of the humans had ever gotten pregnant. Not one.
“Well then, Thor. You’d better show me how you work that hammer of yours.” She pressed her heels into the mattress and tilted her body so I was at the perfect angle. All I would have to do is…
Harper beat me to it. She thrust her hips up in a feat of strength I would’ve expected from one of us. Damn, she was strong.
Groaning, I let myself bask in her warmth. I tilted my head back and squeezed my eyes shut. “Fuck, Harper. You feel too fucking good.”
She raked her fingernails down my thighs and writhed beneath me. Her eyes glinted. “Come on, Thor. I’m waiting.”
I knew that I wanted to fuck her hard. I still hadn’t given her my hundred percent, but with her seemingly newfound strength, I knew she could take it. All of it. But I wouldn’t last long.
It pained me to do it, but I withdrew from her body. Even though it was warm under the comforter, the contrast between Harper’s warmth and that of the bed might as well have been the difference between Brazil and Northern Canada in the winter.
Throwing the comforter over my shoulders, I made my way down Harper’s body until my beard tickled her thighs. She giggled above the covers and then stiffened as my mouth landed on her warmth. It didn’t take long before she was writhing beneath me, balling the comforter in her hands and screaming out my name. She was a screamer, not a moaner, and I loved it. I didn’t care if the rest of the house knew that I’d just made my mate come so hard she was quivering underneath me. When I threw back the covers, feathers flew into the air.
“What the hell?” I held out my hand as one of the goose down feathers flitted through the air, smelling like sex.
“Sorry.” She held up her hands which were covered in feather. “I guess I don’t know my own strength. I ripped your comforter.”
“I’ll buy you a new one, every single night, if it puts that kind of a glow on your face.” I kissed her, and she returned it, hungrily. Greedily. She was ready.
I pounded my hammer into her like I was a construction worker busting up concrete on a Friday afternoon, hard and fast, until I filled my mate up with my seed.
As I fell onto her chest, both of us breathing heavily, a wave of what I thought could be called sadness washed over me. If we could have a baby together, I would want it.To be honest, having children had never crossed my mind before, but I guess that’s what happens when you meet your fated mate. But the thought that had been planted in my brain by something Tank had said once in passing was starting to grow, like a seed. How could Harper be my fated mate if we couldn’t continue the bloodline?
“Wyatt?” Harper’s voice croaked.
“Yeah, baby.” I kissed her forehead.
“What are you thinking about?”
It freaked me out a little how well she could pick up on things. “Oh, just the South Americans.”
She pressed on my shoulder with the heels of her hands and grunted. “Well, could you think about those jerks once you’re off of me? You’re squishing me.”
“Shit.” I rolled off of her and she rested her fingertips on her chest, breathing deeply.
“How much do you weigh?”
“Last I checked, about two fifty.” I lifted my arm so she could snuggle into my underarm. She rested her cheek on my chest and languidly stroked my chest hair. Her body shook as she let out a laugh.
“I think that the orgasm sucked the life out of me. I swear, Wyatt, they get better and stronger with you, every single time.”
We were back on the same page. I felt exactly the same way.
“Wyatt?”
“Yeah?” Even though it was early and we still hadn’t eaten dinner, I was starting to doze off.
“Have you ever slept with Valentina?”