15. Val #3
“Damn, man, you have no idea what you do to me. No one’s ever made me want so much.”
“Same,” I manage.
It’s not eloquent, but coherent thought is becoming increasingly difficult.
Somehow we make it to the living room. Harley stays behind me the whole time, warm and solid and reassuring.
When his hand glides over the scar on my thigh, goose bumps erupt across my skin.
The touch feels unbelievably good.
I’ve spent so long trying not to think about that scar that I never realized it could feel like anything except a reminder.
Harley makes it something else.
Something good.
Something wanted.
He murmurs softly behind me, more crooning than actual words, and guides me toward the long couch.
“Lay down, or, if you’d rather, put your left leg up here and kinda kneel on the right. Gotta work with me being shorter than you.”
I go for the kneeling option, thinking it’ll bring me closer to Harley’s height. Lowering myself carefully, I settle onto my knees and hitch my left leg up onto the couch. Then I lean forward onto the cushions and push my ass back toward him.
“Oh, you are perfect, so perfect. I never would have thought I’d want to top, ever, but this…”
Harley’s fingers brush over me, making me gasp.
“Mmmm, yeah, this is gonna be mine. Just mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice reassures me even more that we’re mates. Whether it’s wishful thinking or something real, I could swear I hear my wolf growl in agreement somewhere deep inside me.
“You’re sure about this,” Harley says, though it isn’t really a question. “You meant everything you said about wanting me, and not having to use anything. I’ve never fucked bare, just, ah, oral, you know. Never wanted to, but you make me want more than I ever thought possible.”
I turn my head enough to look at him.
“Yes, I meant it all, so hurry up and fuck me, damn it!”
The waiting is driving me insane. My cock aches. My ass aches. Everything inside me is burning for him.
“Whatever you want,” Harley tells me.
I close my eye and listen as he opens what has to be lube. The familiar sound is followed by slick warmth being spread over sensitive skin. When he presses it inside me, I moan long and loud.
“Gotta be in you,” Harley grinds out.
“Please,” I beg, rubbing my forehead against the couch cushion. “Please, honey, please fuck me, please—”
The rest dissolves into a hiss as Harley finally pushes inside me. The broad flare of him feels much larger than fingers ever did.
“You can take it. I promise you’re gonna feel so, so fucking good.”
He reaches around and wraps a hand around my cock. A few strokes have me trying to push back for more.
“Yes, you want it, let me in.”
I do.
God, I do.
But eagerness tangles with unfamiliar sensation, and I can’t seem to figure out how to relax around him. Sparks shoot through me every time he moves, promising something incredible if I can just let go enough to take more.
Harley keeps stroking me. His other hand settles on my shoulder.
“Hold on.”
I grit my teeth, expecting pain.
Instead he eases forward slowly, giving my body time to adjust. Pleasure immediately begins chasing discomfort away. Every inch of him feels impossibly substantial.
Harley’s hand never falters.
Neither do the careful movements inside me.
Before long I’m making sounds I don’t even recognize as my own. I rock back against him, pushing onto his cock while simultaneously thrusting into his hand.
“Yeah, just like that. Help me fuck you,” Harley mumbles.
I grunt and push back harder.
“Yes!”
Harley begins moving with more force. The rhythm builds. Heat coils through me, winding tighter and tighter.
“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck,” Harley babbles.
A ridiculous part of me feels pleased that I’ve reduced him to that.
Then he shifts.
The angle changes.
A burst of sensation tears through me so intense it steals every coherent thought I have.
I shout as release crashes over me.
“Oh yeah, that’s it, come, lemme feel it,” Harley mutters. “Fucking squeezing me so tight, ungh!”
He follows moments later, pressing close and going still except for a few involuntary movements.
For a long moment neither of us says anything.
I feel warm.
Content.
Safe.
Harley drapes himself over me.
“Jesus, you’re killing me,” he rasps. “God. Ugh. Can’t move.”
I snort.
Honestly, I don’t really want either of us to move.
Eventually I squirm when something begins tickling my thigh. Harley raises himself up and slips free.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his speech sounding a little slurred.
“Tickles,” I manage, reaching behind myself.
“That’s mine,” Harley tells me, batting my hand away. “Wow. That’s either really sexy or really icky, depending on your point of view. Since I like cum, I know which one I vote for.”
Then Harley does something completely unexpected.
I squeak and nearly jerk upright.
Harley immediately places a hand against my lower back.
“Stay still.”
The words are barely out before violent pounding rattles the front door.
Both of us freeze.
The sound comes again.
Hard.
Insistent.
And suddenly every trace of contentment vanishes beneath a rush of alarm.