Page 102 of The Beekeeper

Ever so slowly, his head straightened, and he looked at me again. “You’re too good, Harper.” Warmth spread over my skin like electric magma. “Too fucking good for this—for me⁠—”

“Stop,” I ordered as I straddled him, taking his face in my hands.

The next thing I knew, our kiss had ignited. Our tongues warred fast and hungry, our minds knowing we didn’t have much time and our bodies needing this faster.

He peeled my clothes off my skin. I worked his sweats down over his hips. He knocked my hand aside as I went to reach for his erection, fisting himself and burrowing his tip at my core.

“So good and so fucking wet,” he growled, sliding his pierced tip through my seam. “Fuck, Harper.” A sound of pure pleasure burst from his throat as he pushed through my entrance, my core stretching to accommodate him. “Too fucking good for me.”

I let my head fall back, his praise like music to my desperately obsessed ears, and let myself savor the feel of my body engulfing his. The pressure, the fullness, the feeling like this was how it was meant to be. Not sex in generalities but with him specifically.

A small puff of air pushed from my lips as I sank fully into his lap, his cock wedged impossibly deep. His hands clamped my waist and rolled me against him, letting the coarse hair at his root caress my clit.

“Blaze,” I gasped.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured against my mouth, his words sinking right into my blood before I could stop them. “Can’t get enough of this.”

He’d warned me that what he’d say would go against what we’d agreed on, yet it didn’t matter. I ate up those words like they were the realest thing in the world.

“Ride me, Harper,” he ordered. “Take my whole cock. Take what you need.”

Moaning, I moved up and down, desperate and a little uncoordinated at first until his hands picked up the slack, guiding me up and down his pulsing length. With every stroke, the swell of pleasure inside me grew. My hands dug into his shoulders, my body starting to move with abandon.

“Fuck, yes,” Blaze groaned, pistoning me onto his length over and over. “Tip back and hold on to your heels.”

In a fugue, I did what he said, my body bowed now in front of him as he kept thrusting.

“So fucking perfect.” A rough curse blew through his lips before he tipped forward and claimed my nipple with his mouth, the sensation making me cry out.

“Shit.” He drew his mouth to the center of my sternum, letting his teeth drag along my chest bone as I bounced with every thrust.

“Sorry,” I panted, trying hard to remember how to be quiet so we’re not heard. “Blaze, please,” I begged, my body aching, my insides twisting themselves into knots of pleasure at this angle. The way I was bent back changed everything—every time he pushed deep, I felt him right on my G-spot, working me into a frenzy.

“Please what? Do you want my cum?” Slam. “Tell me, my little queen. Tell me how bad you want me to fill you up.”

“Yes,” I panted. “I want it.” Slam. “I want your cum.”

“Then take it,” he practically snarled, snaking a hand to the back of my head and hauling my mouth to his.

He knew—he had to have known I was so close because as soon as his tongue drove along mine, mirroring the thrust of his cock deep inside my pussy, I came hard and screamed into his kiss.

Oblivion tore through my body and Blaze fucked me through it, driving into me once—twice more before his deep groan oozed down my throat at the same time as I felt the heat of his release flood between my legs. It might’ve been his kink first, but it had quickly become one of mine. Feeling him fill me, feeling his cum leak from me even after he would leave, it did something to my insides that was nothing short of rewiring them.

And that was what I was afraid of: that I was no longer the same woman who’d signed that contract with him. It was either that, or I’d been the one acting to begin with—pretending like I was capable of something where my emotions weren’t attached.

Chapter 24

Blaze

Iwas royally fucked.

And not just in the literal sense of having my mind and body repeatedly, magnanimously destroyed by my roommate-with-benefits, but in the actual what the fuck was I going to do next?

I’d already been playing with fire by agreeing to this damned little contract of hers—a sham from the start and we both knew it. A facade we could both hide behind, except neither of us chose to. Especially me. No matter how many times and the number of chances I had to keep distance between Harper and me, especially in front of my daughter, I never took them. Especially not after that night when I’d shown up at her bedroom door, unable to hold myself together all by myself. I tried to root my mind to Wade’s assurances that we were going to win my case, that there was no way…but what if there was?

Fear was a fucking prick, and until I’d shared it with Harper, it had been eating me alive like a parasite. But since that night, I wasn’t as shaken. Not even when we’d heard almost nothing for over a week except that the decision was still pending. One more week of purgatory…in my own personal brand of heaven.

I lowered my hands to my knees, staring over the secluded beach to where Harper and Paisley were cataloging sea critters in their natural habitat with Harper’s cousin, Kit, his wife, Aurora, and their kids. This was my problem, I realized, she’d become my natural habitat over the last couple of weeks. My shelter. The place where I felt safe to breathe and live and laugh and—Fuck.