That’s all it takes. His permission combined with the relentless pressure inside me sends me hurtling over the edge. My back arches and he releases my wrists and lets me move, watching as I fall apart under him. I’m coming hard, spilling over my fist and onto my stomach, my body clenching around his fingers.
It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever felt, and Harper works me through it, easing the pressure but still moving gently inside me until the aftershocks subside and I collapse boneless against the mattress. Only then does he slowly withdraw his fingers.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, staring blankly at the ceiling as I try to remember how to form coherent thoughts. I can still feel the ghost of his grip on my wrists, a pleasant reminder of his strength.
“You good?” he asks, already knowing the answer if his smug expression is anything to go by.
“Fucking fantastic,” I admit, too blissed out to be anything but honest. “What about you? How do you want to get off?”
“Won’t take much,” he says. “Anything is fine.”
No, I don’t think so. Harper’s clearly a sweet and gentle kinda guy, but he still tapped into his growly alpha side to make my trashy literature fantasies come true. I’m going to return the favor.
“Come on,” I coax. “No judgement here. Tell me what you really want. What will drive you wild?”
Harper hesitates. “Maybe if I… on your…” he gets out, which isn’t quite enough.
“Should I blow you? Jerk you off?” When I bring a hand up to my chest, he tracks the movement and makes a gesture. Oh, it’s coming together. “Do you want to come on me?”
The flash in his eyes and the way his breath catches tell me I’ve hit the bullseye.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I push, feeling a thrill at having figured him out. “You want to mark me up. Make a mess of me.”
A low growl rumbles in his chest, and I know I’ve got him. It’s oddly empowering, seeing the always-in-control Detective Harper coming undone because of me.
“Fuck yes,” I breathe, stretching languidly beneath him, showing off all the skin available to him. “Do it. Come all over me. My stomach, my chest, my face. Wherever you want.”
With one hand braced beside my head, the other works his cock in fast, desperate strokes. His eyes are locked on mine, then they roam hungrily over my body, taking in the mess I’ve already made of myself on my stomach.
“Do it,” I urge him, running my hands up his thighs, feeling the corded muscle trembling with restraint. “Come on, Harper. Mark me up however you want.”
He strokes himself faster, his breathing ragged. I can tell he’s close by the way his muscles tense, by the almost pained expression that crosses his face.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Let go for me.”
“Fuck, Dodger.” Harper’s voice breaks as he comes, his release landing hot and thick across my skin in pulsing streaks. I watch, transfixed, as pearly white ribbons paint my chest, some catching on my collarbone, others sliding down my ribs. His hand keeps working his cock, milking every drop as his muscularbody trembles above me. The cords in his neck stand out, his jaw clenched as he watches where his come marks me.
On a hunch, I drag my fingers through a pool of his come near my left nipple, smearing it in slow circles.
“Christ,” he groans, the sound ripped from deep in his chest. His cock jerks in his grip, pulsing out a few more drops that land hot on my stomach. His breathing is ragged, chest heaving as he watches me touch myself. I reach for his free hand and guide it to my chest, pressing his palm against the slick mess he’s made of me. His fingers spread wide, rubbing his release into my skin with possessive strokes. I’ll probably need to shower before we sleep, but watching the effect it has on him is totally worth it.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice wrecked. He collapses to one side, careful not to crush me, but keeps one arm thrown across my chest. “That was...”
“Yeah,” I agree, turning my head to look at him. His golden eyes are soft now, the predatory intensity faded into something warm and satisfied. “It was.”
We lay there for a few minutes, catching our breath. I’m sticky and messy and should probably be grossed out, but all I feel is a bone-deep contentment that I haven’t experienced in... well, maybe ever.
Sins of the Brother
Dodger
The elevator doors slide open with a cheerful ding that matches my unusually good mood. We shuffle inside, and Harper stands close enough that his arm brushes mine, standing a lot closer than he would have yesterday.
But so much has changed since then.
