15. Chapter 15
Grayson
Harlow is a vision. His hair is plastered to his face, the blond dark with sweat. His eyes are hazy with lust and the alcohol we’ve drunk. He’s gorgeous. Stunning. The literal man of my dreams.
My cock is aching, and I’m losing the battle with my restraint. He wants it. I want it. Why the fuck am I fighting it so hard?
Because having him and losing him will destroy you, dumbass.
Kinda feels like a moot point, though.
“I’m gonna grab another drink,” Harlow shouts.
I nod, reluctantly letting go of him as he steps out of my embrace.
I watch his retreating back until I can’t see him through the crowd anymore.
Everyone in the club seems to have flocked to the dance floor, their sweaty bodies writhing around me.
The scent of spilled alcohol and sweat is like a blanket, comforting in its own way.
I really have missed being out with Harlow.
I’ve never had fun with anyone the way I have fun with him.
A hand lands on my hip, and the hips that grind into mine feel all wrong.
“Wanna get out of here, cutie?”
I turn around, catching the eyes of the man behind me.
He’s attractive, with swept-back black hair and piercing green eyes.
And maybe if I were another man in another life, I’d take him up on that.
But right now, my life is Harlow, and the man I am is his husband.
And I intend to take our vows seriously, even if they weren’t said because of love or commitment.
At the very least, I’m committed to being his for the next three months.
I’m starting to shake my head when the guy is being forcibly moved away from me, and a raging Harlow is filling my vision. I barely make out the words “my husband” over the music.
The scowl on Harlow’s face is the most intense I’ve ever seen it.
“Sorry.” The guy holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t know.”
“Well,” Harlow snaps. “Now you do. Get your hands off my fucking husband.”
My stomach does something complicated at the words flying out of Harlow’s mouth, my heart taking off in a wild rhythm even though I know he doesn’t mean it. Not really.
The guy doesn’t take the hint because he reaches down, ignoring the way Harlow is glaring daggers at him, and grips my hand, holding it up in the air. I’m too stunned to even pull away. “See. No ring.” The guy shrugs. “Didn’t know.”
Without another word, he drops my hand and then quickly steps away.
Harlow stares after him, his jaw set in a line and his shoulders rising and falling harshly. Then he’s turning on me. “You wanna take that guy home?”
I shake my head because what the fuck? Of course I don’t.
Harlow grits his teeth, baring them at me. It’s stupidly fucking hot, frying my brain and making my cock—which had flagged when the guy grabbed me—swell again.
“Are you jealous?”
Harlow’s jaw falls open. “Of course I’m fucking jealous. You’re my husband.”
The liquid in one of the cups Harlow is holding sloshes out of the side, spilling down my arm when I grip his face roughly and slam my mouth down onto his. I can feel the vibration of his moan against my lips, and I pull him closer, ignoring everyone around us.
He’s a tiny firecracker, trying to climb my body with both drinks still in his hands, so I pull back long enough to take one from him and grab his hand. Leading him off the dance floor, I set the still-full cups on one of the empty tables close by and pull him out the door.
It’s not cold outside by any means, but compared to the sweltering heat inside the club, the air feels cool against my overheated skin.
“What are we doing?” Harlow asks, his voice loud. Like he’s not used to talking at a normal volume after shouting over the music for the last few hours. “Are you mad at me?”
I don’t answer him. Not yet. I can’t. Anything I say is going to be stupid. I’m single-mindedly focused on finding a modicum of privacy. There’s an alley to the left of the club, and when I see that no one is in it, I drag him into it after me.
“Grayson—”
I cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his surprised gasp. Without giving myself time to think, I wrap my hands around his hips and lift him up, pinning him to the brick wall.
He moans, dropping his head against it, and I move him, shifting him until his cock is lined up with mine.
I need to come, and I need to do it with Harlow.
It’s not even a want anymore.
Need to know what he sounds like when he comes undone. Need to know how his body reacts. Does he shiver and shake? Does he moan? Does he whimper? I don’t know, and knowing is the most important thing in the world to me.
I rock my hips, dragging my cock over his, and he groans, his eyes falling shut and his throat bobbing.
“Feel good?” I croak out.
He nods. “Yeah. Yes. So much. Kiss me.”
I dip my head, sealing our lips back together. It’s sloppy. Whether from the alcohol or the desperation, I’m not sure. I’m not trashed. I’m just buzzed enough that my inhibitions are gone. Just drunk enough that I’m not thinking about all the ways this is going to hurt.
Harlow drags his tongue over mine, then pulls back enough that he can lick at my bottom lip and nip at the skin.
I groan into his mouth, my hips punching forward and my fingers tightening so hard on his hips that they go numb.
“Do you want me?” I rasp out against his lips.
“So much,” Harlow breathes. “Do you want me?”
I nod. “Since I knew what it meant to want someone. Do you only want me because of the alcohol?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ve wanted you all day. I promise. Please.”
Fuck.
I thrust and grind against him, the dry friction just this side of painful, my cock jerking hard.
Slamming my mouth back onto his, I lose all control, rutting against him in pure desperation. Harlow’s hands fist in my hair, his teeth clacking against mine as he tries to kiss me deeper.
He can’t move. Not with me pinning him to the wall, but if the way he’s whimpering is any indication, he doesn’t care.
“I’m gonna fuck against you just like this,” I grit out, rolling my hips again as heat and electricity fire up my spine. His heels dig into my ass cheeks as he nods frantically. “Until we both come.”
He whispers my name, and it’s better than any dream I’ve ever had. Any fantasy. It’s raw and choked and breathy. He tilts his head back, exposing his throat to me, and I dive down, dragging my teeth over his fluttering pulse.
His entire body shudders as a loud moan rips through him.
It’s everything. I’m obsessed. Obsessed with the way he tries to roll his hips even though I have him pinned.
Obsessed with the way his heels are trying to force me to move faster, go harder.
Obsessed with every moan and whimper and whine that spills from him into the night air.
I’ll never recover from this, and I don’t even care.
It’s not even over. I haven’t even heard him come, haven’t watched his face contort in pleasure, and I already know it’ll never be enough.
Three months, three years, three lifetimes…
It doesn’t matter. There will never be enough time to fill the gaping need I have for him inside me.
I suck on his throat, hard enough that I know I’m going to leave a mark.
Hard enough that he tugs on my hair, his body shifting restlessly and his noises ticking up.
I do it again and again, peppering his skin with my marks.
With my teeth and my tongue and harsh suction until he’s bowing toward me, his back leaving the wall.
His voice breaks as he cries out, and I can feel the moment he comes. Can feel the heat that seeps through his jeans against my cock. Can feel his body going taut. Can feel the vibrations of his moans.
“Keep going,” he groans. “So good. So fucking good.”
It’s everything I imagined and more, and I drop my mouth to his again, panting against his lips as I rock my hips, and my own orgasm slams into me.
White spots dance at the edge of my vision, my legs going weak with the force of it.
I keep thrusting into him, my cock pulsing and jerking against his until I’ve soaked my boxers in cum and Harlow is trembling in my arms.
Pressing my forehead to his, I try to calm my ragged breathing.
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. What did I just do?
He whimpers, stopping my spiral in its tracks. “Gray,” he breathes again, this time sated and almost a little sleepy.
“Harlow,” I whisper back.
I pull away just enough to make eye contact with him, and the dazzling blue latches onto mine. “Holy fuck.”
Yeah, that sounds about right. I can’t say I disagree.
He purses his lips, his eyes falling closed, and I seal our lips together. The desperation has cooled some, and the kisses we exchange are slow and sweet, his tongue soothing the sting from his nibbling of my lower lip, his fingers gentle on my scalp where before they were rough and harsh.
I kiss him until we’ve both caught our breath, and then even longer. Until the cum in my jeans gets uncomfortable, and I’m sure Harlow feels the same way. With a small sigh, I break the kiss.
“I should probably get you back to the hotel so we can shower.”
Harlow nods. “Together?”
I don’t see why not. It’s not like I haven’t already crossed boundaries I told myself I wouldn’t. “Sure.”
“We have to go shopping tomorrow,” Harlow says when I’ve carefully placed him on his feet and called for a car to take us back to the hotel.
“What for?”
We only have one full day left here, and we already have fancy clothes for our dinner. I can’t possibly imagine what we might need.
“Rings.”
Rings? My heart slams against my ribs. “What?” I croak out.
Harlow’s eyes are pure fire when he locks them on mine. “I want wedding bands. Matching ones.”
That expression shouldn’t be so hot, but my dick is trying to rally. It’s honestly embarrassing. “We can get rings.”
The car pulls up outside the alley as Harlow hums. “Good, because I want one on your hand. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
A thrill shoots through me. I want that too. I shouldn’t. I know it’s dangerous, but goddammit, I want that too.
“Okay,” I whisper, taking his hand and leading him to the car. “I want everyone to know you’re mine too.”
At least for now.