Chapter 21 #2
His fingers slide inside me, slow and deliberate. They stroke through slick heat, circling, teasing, pushing me right to the edge.
And then it hits.
“Harlow,” I cry, breath catching.
My body jolts as his fingers explore deeper, every nerve lighting up. My hands clamp onto his thighs as the sensation crests, overwhelming and relentless.
Our breaths come ragged. My hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers, chasing friction after friction, pressure after pressure.
Until I lose myself again in pure, blinding bliss.
“Yes, baby,” he murmurs. “That’s it. Come for me. I need to feel it. I need to know you want this. I need all of you.”
Mythril howls in the distance. My breath catches in my throat, and then my consciousness opens wide, revealing thousands of stars shimmering above the lake of souls. Something magical holds me captive, leaving me limp and breathless in his warm embrace.
He pulls his fingers free, my core clenching as the last traces of release leave me. His head settles into the crook of my shoulder as he murmurs against my skin.
“You taste damn good,” he whispers, low and rough. “I want more. I need more of you.”
His mouth works at my neck, slow and claiming.
“No,” I whisper, breathless. “I need you more. Please.” I slap his thigh lightly, barely meaning to.
He hums, fingers twisting my breasts with practiced ease. “You want it rough, or you want it slow and sweet?”
“I don’t care,” I beg. “Just take me. Please.”
A quiet chuckle leaves him as he shrugs out of his jeans and shirt. I pull mine off too, leaving us bare beneath the dim tent light. When I start to lie back, Harlow catches my waist.
“Stay on your knees,” he says gently. “I’m not messing up your back any worse than it already is.”
I blink, heat rushing to my cheeks, though modesty feels pointless now. “I’ve never tried that position.”
He smiles faintly, fingers sliding through my hair. His lips brush my ear, then bite lightly until I squirm. His tongue traces the curve, drawing a moan from me.
“Easy,” he murmurs. “Hold the pillow. Lift that pretty ass for me.”
His hands guide me down, one steadying my waist as he lifts me just enough. My body folds into position, my back arched, everything exposed. When his fingers trail along my spine, a shiver ripples through me.
His palms squeeze my ass, and I bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. When his hot breath blows between my thighs, I clamp my teeth into the pillow.
Then his tongue touches me.
Soft, slick, unrelenting. Like a wolf finding fresh water after a long, brutal run. I bite down harder, fighting the moans threatening to spill free.
My hips move on instinct, chasing the pleasure building fast and wild. My eyes squeeze shut, my mouth opening on rough, breathless sounds I can’t fully hold back. It is too much. Too intense.
“Harlow…”
His tongue works me again and again, plunging deep, never easing. My heart pounds as my hands clutch the pillow beneath my chest. His grip keeps my legs spread when they try to close, my thighs trembling on their own.
Goddess. This feels unreal.
Energy surges through every part of me. Each lick, each pull, sends me closer to breaking. His fingers flick my clit in quick, precise touches, and that is all it takes.
The wave crashes over me, impossible to stop. I muffle a cry as pleasure rips through my body, dragging me under.
“That’s it, Alexa,” he murmurs. “Goddess, I love how you taste.”
The sound of him is unmistakable, sending another shiver through me. My face presses into the pillow, cheeks burning, breath ragged. I hope for a pause, but it only spurs him on. He does it again, pushing me over the edge once more.
“Harlow,” I pant, barely able to form words. “Aren’t you gonna enjoy yourself too?”
He lifts his head slightly. “You saying you’re done?”
“No,” I rush out. “Yes. I mean, no. I just… I feel like I might pass out.”
He chuckles softly. “You want me to stop?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I squeeze my eyes shut, overwhelmed.
He guides me upright and settles down, pulling me onto his lap. His cock is long and hard beneath me. My eyes widen at the sight of him, thick and ready in the low light.
“Now,” he rasps. “Let’s do this.”
I lower myself slowly, lining up with him as my hands brace on his shoulders. He guides himself against me, brushing my clit first, then pressing inside.
He slides in with ease. I gasp, half relief, half sting, as he fills me completely. We stay there for a moment, breathing through it together.
Our foreheads touch. His hands grip my waist, smoothing over my back, squeezing my hips. My arms loop around his neck, holding tight.
“You fit me,” I whisper, breathless.
“As we should,” he replies simply.
We kiss, slow and deep, tongues exploring as our bodies find their rhythm. The night stretches around us, unhurried and relentless.
He swells inside me, locking us together. The bond settles deep, unmistakable. This is nothing like Gabriel or Romero. This is something else entirely.
His wolf stirs with mine, growling and howling in harmony. Each movement pulls us closer, tightening the connection. Our breaths and sounds weave together, filling the tent with raw need.
“I’m gonna come,” Harlow groans. “Fuck.”
“Yes,” I gasp, clinging to him. “Yes.”
Nothing could tear us apart now. With one final grind, he spills inside me, holding me close as we shudder through the last wave, lost together in the quiet aftermath.
* * *
That night feels long. I can’t fully fall asleep. Thoughts keep circling inside my head, restless and loud. Mythril still doesn’t respond. I call for her a few times, but she stays silent, as if she hasn’t fully recovered and remains asleep somewhere deep within me.
I let out a slow breath and stare at Harlow in the dark. My arms wrap around him. My fingers trace along his arm, searching for comfort in the steady warmth of his body.
Am I not lucky to have him here beside me? If he truly is my mate, then I should be able to face all of this with him.
Alastair’s threat is real. Everyone in the region knows the cruelty tied to his name. If he truly tears through Silver Moon and war breaks out, nothing will be left of us. There will be no land for me to come back home.
The only way to stop him is to repay what I owe. If I have nothing left to give, not my body, not my life, then the only option left is money.
“Hey.”
Harlow’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. His arm tightens around my waist, holding me closer.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Oh… sorry. I woke you up,” I murmur.
“You hurting again?” he asks quietly.
“No. It’s not that.” I shake my head. “I’m just thinking about Alastair.”
Harlow hums under his breath. His thumb brushes gently along my cheek. His eyes search mine, filled with concern, but I can tell he’s thinking too, trying to find a way out of this.
“We could head farther east,” he says. “Lay low somewhere nobody knows us. Pretending we’re human.” My lips press together as I study the line of his jaw, the faint brown stubble beginning to grow along his chin.
“My father left behind a lot of assets,” I say slowly. “Since I turned eighteen before he died, all of it should pass to me. The night I was taken to the auction, I was supposed to meet his lawyer the next morning to finalize the inheritance.”
“But you never make it to that meeting,” Harlow says, half asking, half certain.
“Yeah. I’m sure Mr. Pascoe handled things in the meantime. But since Mrs. Gertrude is still the Dawson widow, she can still ask for Alpha Gabriel’s and Mr. Pascoe’s approval to use some of the assets.”
“Until you officially take control?” Harlow asks.
“Yeah. Until everything is legally transferred to me. Mr. Pascoe needs my signature for all of it.”
“So…” Harlow murmurs, like the answer is already forming in his mind.
“I need to find Mr. Pascoe,” I say, my voice steady now. “Before Alastair comes and tears through Silver Moon next week.”
“I can help,” he says.
“That sounds like a suicide mission,” I whisper.
“Trust me, I can handle most of it. You’re looking at proof I know how to break someone outta a cell on a suicide run.” He pinches my nose playfully.
We laugh for a moment, the memory of him pulling me out of Alastair’s prison flickering between us. When the laughter fades, silence settles back in, heavy as we try to sort through every possible option.
“We need to send a message to Mr. Pascoe,” I say. “But any phone signal can be traced by the Alpha. He’ll find us in no time.”
The thought of standing face to face with Gabriel again twists my stomach. If he finds out I’m the Lycan who attacked him, he will be furious.
Still, Harlow gives me that same confident smile.
“Then I’ll do it the old way.”