Chapter Eleven #2
I fucking love when she begs. Sophie doesn't beg for anything, not from anyone except me. Yeah, I love it. I feel like a king when she's pleading with me.
"Harlan, please…" Her voice is broken, needy.
"Give me what I want, and then you can come," I rasp, biting the inside of her thigh. "Say you'll marry me."
She's shaking, her breath coming in ragged bursts, and I love her so much I want to break her open and pour myself inside.
"Tell me that you'll marry me, and I'll let you come all over my tongue."
She stares at me, her hands locked in my hair, her lips parted, her eyes wild.
I press my thumb right against her clit, just the way she likes, and circle slow, then hard. She's so close. Her whole body is strung tight, desperate for release.
"Say it," I demand, my voice a rough growl of sound.
"Yes," she gasps, and then louder, "Yes, Harlan. I'll marry you, just fucking—"
That's all I need. I suck her clit hard.
She detonates, her entire body arching off the floor, my name echoing off the walls. She grinds against my face, riding it like she never wants to stop. I don't let up until she's trembling and limp, her hands falling away from my hair.
I crawl up her body, pinning her wrists above her head, kissing her so deep she tastes herself on my tongue. "You're mine," I growl into her mouth. "You're mine forever."
Her eyes are dazed, her pupils dilated. "Then prove it, Harlan. Fuck me."
I don't bother undressing. I just yank my sweats down, not even getting them past my knees, before my cock is out.
I line up, shoving inside her in one savage thrust.
She cries out, her back arching, her tits pressing against my chest. She's so tight and wet I nearly lose it in the first second.
"Christ, you feel so good," I mutter, pounding into her, each stroke harder than the last. "You moving in just so you can fuck me whenever you want, baby?"
She bites my shoulder, her nails digging into my back. "No. I'm moving in so I can destroy you," she groans, meeting every thrust with her own, greedy for it.
I grab her hips, hauling her up so her ass is off the floor, and slam into her as deep as I can go. "You already have," I snarl. "I can't even sleep without you. I've been jerking off three times a day just so I don't go insane, Sophie."
She laughs, wild and breathless. "Tell me you missed me."
"I fucking missed you," I say immediately. "Nobody's ever wrecked me the way you do. I love you."
She goes still at that, her whole body going soft and sweet under me. I slow down, grinding into her, my hand sliding between us to rub her clit again. I want her to come until she can't think of anything but me.
"I love you, too," she whispers, and it's the only thing that ever mattered.
I fuck her like it's the last thing I'll ever do, holding nothing back. She's so fucking tight, so wet, so perfect, I lose all sense of myself.
She claws me, biting my neck, demanding more, and I give it to her. I give her everything I've got because she always, always gives it right back.
When we fall, we fall together, tangled together right there on the floor. It's messy and perfect. So fucking perfect.
"Is this real?" I pant, my arms wrapped around her so tightly, I'm not even sure she can breathe.
She just lifts her head, her green eyes bright. "It damn sure better be," she says, smiling like she's never been happier. "Because this is the second time I've been unable to feel my ass because of you."
I chuckle, moving to stand, but her grip tightens on me, her head falling back to my shoulder. "No," she whispers. "Let's just stay right here. Here is perfect."
She's never been more right—or more beautiful—in her life.
"I'm going to murder you," she swears two days later, looking at me like she isn't sure if she wants to choke me out or laugh. She looks beautiful in her bridesmaid dress, her hair in ringlets around her face.
"It's a wedding, ballerina," I murmur, one brow arched. "Pretty sure bloodshed is highly discouraged."
"Oh yeah?" She props a hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing on my face. "I'm pretty sure stealing your sister's thunder on her wedding day is highly discouraged, too."
Shit.
"You heard."
A laugh burbles from her lips. "The whole world has heard, Harlan!" she growls. "You posted a photo of my ring on Instagram with a caption that says, 'She said yes.'"
"Oh. That." Hell, yeah, I posted it. Hattie was fine with it. Actually, she was better than fine with it. She encouraged it, rambling about having a double sister-in-law.
"Yes, that." Sophie steps up between my legs, but not because she's being sweet. Hell no. She does it to thump me in the center of the forehead. "What were you thinking?" And then she tenses. "Wait a damn minute. What do you mean, 'Oh. That?'" she growls. "What else did you do?"
"Nothing much," I mumble, wrapping my arms around her. "You're just not going to be the only one in our marriage who has hit Greg in the face, that's all."
I made a special trip first thing this morning to solve that problem. Will it teach him manners? Doubtful. Did it feel good to knock him on his ass? Hell yeah.
Frankly, I don't even care if he presses charges or if I get suspended.
Watching him bleed a little for all the hell he put Sophie through is worth whatever the consequences will be.
She's mine to protect now, and that protection is retroactive.
I won't apologize for knocking that prick on his pathetic ass.
"You…" She jerks back, her wide eyes locking on my face. "What?"
"If he didn't want me to hit him, he never should have insulted you," I murmur, stroking her jaw. "I wasn't letting that shit stand. So, I decked him."
She stares at me for a long moment, long enough that I brace for whatever shitstorm is about to hit. I'm sure it'll be epic. No one throws a fit like Sophie.
To my shock, she doesn't lose her mind. Instead, she faceplants into my chest, her body shaking with uncontrollable laughter.
"I love you," she breathes. "God, I love you so damn much, Harlan Ward."
My heart pulses, an emotion I don't even have a name for rushing through me. It's not love. It's something else—something softer, something brighter, something all-consuming.
"I love you too, ballerina," I murmur, burying my face in her hair. "Every damn minute of the day." And I always will. Always.