Page 33 of Fixation

Controlling my expression, I step toward the window. Now it’s my nose that almost touches the glass. “I was curious about you.”

“Yes, I see that. I’m sorry I didn’t earlier,” she whispers.

“And I was dead serious.” My eyes cut to her hand, silently demanding that she line it with mine. “About killing them.”

“Trust me, I believe you.” It’s a slight movement, the rise of her hand. It hangs in the air as Harper considers whether to obey me or not. “You terrify me.”

A sharp nod is what I have to offer her. I won’t ever apologize for being the man she needs me to be.

“I should file for a restraining order.” She puts one finger to mine. Just one, as she stares at me beneath her thick lashes.

Her cheeks flush, and my mouth goes dry.

My body is overwhelmed by how much that one finger means to me.

“Why do you keep lying to yourself, kitten?” I pull it together, straighten to my full height. Tower over her. Making her feel small and mine, just the way she likes it. “Your nipples are hard. Your heart beats so loud I can hear it from here.”

Her arm flies up to her chest.

“Don’t do that.” My voice cuts through, and she obeys. “Don’t ever hide yourself from me.”

“Okay.” Finally, she presses the rest of her small hand to my much larger one.

The move isn’t a conscious one. It’s her fear and submission that push her into this monster’s arms.

“Good girl,” I praise her. “So tell me, Harper, if I were in there, next to you, shoving my fingers in your cunt, you’d squeeze them, wouldn’t you? You’d cry and beg me to stop so I wouldn’t feel how wet you are for me.”

“Anderson.”

“Harper.”

“What?” She scowls.

“That little restraining order fantasy you cling to every time I scare you?” My brow lifts, daring her to lie.

Her mouth tightens. “It wouldn’t save you.

No piece of paper would stop me from coming for you.

There’s no lock, no law, no distance that would keep me away.

You’re already mine. Better learn to live with it. ”

She gulps. Shudders. Her pupils are blown, despite the sun that begins to rise behind me. It’s as if her irises are a blend of green, gold, and black.

Royalty.

“Okay. Okay.” Her gaze sharpens. She isn’t a little lamb anymore. She’s the shark who runs an empire. I won’t ever choose which of these two sides of her I like more. “I’ll learn to live with you. But you owe me.”

“Of course. What can I get you?”

“The truth. Last night.” The way her tone turns conspiratorial has my jaw ticking. I wish I could sink my teeth into her. Every part of her. “What was that? When you?—”

I talk before she can finish the sentence, hoping to see more red blooming on her cheeks, “When I fucked you?”

“No.” A new, darker shade of red springs on her cheeks. Her neck. “The person you protected me from. Who was that?”

“That man shouldn’t have been there.” I clench my fingers on her window, furious that I can’t break it.

I have the Bratva leader as an enemy, and yet this window, this goddamn piece of glass, is my most vicious opponent.

“They don’t usually have anyone watching me.

Except now that I’m almost done fulfilling my father’s contract. My debt is about to come to an end.”

My answer clears up exactly nothing. I like having her confused like this.

The questions won’t stop rising in her throat.

Harper is trying so hard to choose which one she should ask first.

Eventually she starts by asking, “What does your debt have to do with a contract?”

“Open the window.”

“Excuse me?” That really throws her into a spin. “No. I asked you a question.”

I’m done answering questions for today. “And I told you to open the window.”

“Answer me.”

“Miss Arlington, I need to check your throat.” In one of the most perverse, unethical ways possible. “Open the window.”

“I’m fine,” she says, though she can’t resist me. The lock on her window flips.

She pulls it toward her and Jesus. The scent of her.

“You showered,” I say to startle her, since I’m ready to get back to our games.

It works. My little kitten starts backing away.

Like hell. I grab her wrist to keep her close.

“What did I say about leaving my cum on you?” We’re nose to nose. She’s glowering at me, hot and feisty. I won’t kiss her. As soon as I do, I’ll turn soft. “On your thighs?”

“I was sweaty, Dr. Maguire.” She dips her chin, staring me down. The nerve on her, it’s so sweet I could die. “You’re not here for that, though. Since you asked to check on my throat. Here it is. Ahh.”

Her mouth opens as a challenge.

I don’t hesitate to respond.

Two fingers go deep into her mouth. I groan at the feel of her tongue. Her spit on my wrist is turning me feral.

More. Fuck. Can’t get enough of her.

Deeper. Deeper. Deeper.

Until I hit the back of her throat.

“I could make you throw up for talking back.” Her hands grasp mine while she gags, trying to free herself from me. What she gets is my hand behind her head, holding her face there while I graze my fingers over her throat. “For being such a fucking brat. I won’t.”

I want to fuck her throat. I want to…to love her, dammit.

“You’re my patient. I won’t harm you. Don’t move. No. Let me see…” She stops fighting.

Tears of fear and confusion roll down her cheeks.

“Hate you,” she murmurs around my fingers.

“Liar.” I stroke the back of her throat. Trace my fingers up to her palette, all the while staring into her raging eyes. When I’m done taunting her, when I can’t stand the need to stretch her pussy, ass, and pretty lips, I pull away. “You’re good.”

“You’re a monster.” The window slams in my face.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Hugs her chest.

By doing so, she’s hiding her nipples. The evidence of her arousal from me.

Defying my previous orders.

I don’t mind it this time.

“I am.” I adjust my painful erection, prolonging the moment. Letting her stare. Poor thing. She can’t help it. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

Her middle finger and haunted gaze are the last things I see before I pretend to head off to work.

Once I’m out of her sight, I open the camera app. I see her on the screen of my phone.

Harper’s walked over to her kitchen, murmuring I can’t be into this while she starts her breakfast.

The perfect opportunity for me to slip back into my house. From there, I manage to climb onto her terrace from mine.

While she’s downstairs, I come face to face with her pills.

My nemesis. My fucking downfall.

As I swap between them and the mints in my bag, I imagine Harper a few months from now.

Stomach stretched. Swollen. Filled with our child.

Her hand stroking it. Mine covering hers.

Our first ultrasound.

Her morning sickness and how she’d turn to me for help.

Her heart will be mine.

I’m so hard I can hardly breathe.

Can hardly think straight.

I can’t show up to work like this. In less than a second, my cock is out of my scrubs, heavy and throbbing in my palm.

Harper’s on the phone, pacing around the house, oblivious to the fact that I’m jerking off to images of her pregnant.

I’m about to come. Any second now.

The smart thing to do would be to aim for the sink, the shower, my stomach.

Her body lotion jar. That’s where I’m going to come.

I twist the lid off while I stroke myself, hips pumping slow and steady like I’m already buried in her.

Thoughts of Harper round and pregnant slip into something filthier. Of her rubbing this cream into her skin. Her cream with my seed in it.

Fuck. Fuck .

I growl as I finish, spilling my cum into the jar. Hot, claiming. Then I stir it in with two fingers, watching it disappear into the lotion.

Perfect.

Today and every time she moisturizes, she’ll be rubbing me into her skin.

That way, she’ll carry me everywhere.

Always .