Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Well, who the hell am I to deny a beautiful woman?
My cock thrusts deep into her sweet cunt, bottoming out with every slam of my hips against hers. “Oh fuck,” she groans, gripping onto me with everything she has as I keep her pinned against the bathroom wall. “Take me, Knight.”
Her body trembles, her fingers moving to knot into my hair and pulling tight. I clutch onto her hip, my other hand gripping her perfect ass as her tight little cunt squeezes my cock, fitting so perfectly.
“Shit, doll,” I grunt, my jaw clenching as she brings me right to the edge.
“Don’t you dare hold back on me,” she murmurs, barely able to catch her breath.
My pelvis grinds against her clit, and with every new thrust, her pussy squeezes even tighter, but I give her everything I’ve got, my cock slamming up into her tight warmth, feeling the way she begins convulsing around me.
“That’s right, baby. Let go,” I grit through my teeth. “Come for me.”
As if on cue, Harper detonates, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She groans low, her body breaking into wild, frantic spasms, barely able to hold herself up against me. And as she falls to pieces, shattering like the perfect sheet of glass, I come hard, shooting hot spurts of cum deep inside that pretty cunt.
“Fuck, Harper,” I groan, my hips still rocking as she reaches her climax and finally begins to come back down, gripping onto me for a whole new reason as her head falls forward, her lips against my shoulder, breathing deeply.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispers against my skin.
“Right back at you, doll,” I murmur, locking my arms around her again before shifting my back onto the vanity, my cock still buried deep inside of her.
She looks up at me, those sweet eyes that are usually filled with the deepest confidence, now swimming with uncertainty. “I shouldn’t want you like this.”
She’s said it before, but it doesn’t make it any less true now. “I know,” I breathe, placing my fingers to her chin and gently lifting, her lips barely a heartbeat away from mine. “I want you, Harper. And not just for your body.”
“We can’t.”
I close the distance, letting my lips briefly brush over hers. “Believe me, doll. I’m more than aware that this can’t happen. But it doesn’t make me want you any less.”
She lets out a heavy sigh, placing her hand against my chest and forcing distance between us. “We have to stop before it goes too far. I can’t just accidentally slip and fall onto your cock every time I see you. My family . . . It’s already too messed up. If my mom finds out about this, she will make it her life’s mission to destroy me.”
“I won’t allow her to do that.”
She gives me a sad smile. “You don’t know my mother well enough.”
“I’m not going to stop, Harper,” I tell her, easing out of her. “Not when it’s so clear that you and I . . . We both want this, and when I’m inside you. Fuck, doll, it’s too good to deny. But if you want space or to just need to lay low for a minute, then I’ll respect that. I’m not about to force you into something you’re not ready for.”
She nods, and it fucking kills me that this woman before me just happens to be my brother’s stepdaughter. Out of all the women on this Earth, why does this have to be the one I can’t have?
“We need to get out of here,” she finally says. “But don’t think for one second that you’re about to drive off into the sunset without telling me exactly what you said to my mother at that table.”
Laughter rumbles through my chest, and I lift Harper off the counter before placing her on her feet, not letting go until I know she’s balanced. “Hungry?” I ask.
She grins back at me, her eyes dancing with happiness, and despite knowing that spending more time together is going to make all of this so much worse, all she can do is nod. “I’m starving.”
26
HARPER-RAYN
Fuck, Mondays come around way too quickly.
One minute I was on my back, spending my weekend ignoring the fact that I shouldn’t have been in Knight’s bed, and the next, I’m here, swiping my access card over the security point at the doors of the dreaded morgue.
I don’t know when I started dreading coming to work. Maybe it was right at the beginning when I first realized I was being watched, or maybe it was when the two men I was dancing with showed up on my table. All I know is that this is slowly killing me. I’ve always loved my work. I love the challenge of pulling the body apart and scouring every inch of it. I love learning exactly what went wrong to cause a perfectly healthy person’s heart to spontaneously give out, and bringing justice to victims by collecting the evidence that helps capture their killers. But lately, I’ve been scared to walk through the door.