Page 24

Chapter

Twenty-Four

CYRUS

I should be focused on the blank canvas in front of me. I have to turn in an impressionist landscape oil painting at the end of the week. Instead, all I want to do is tell Harper to strip down, so I can paint her stretched nude across my bed.

She asked to come upstairs with me to study while I work since the new mattress won’t be here until next week, and she didn’t want to be alone. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, so I moved her textbook and pulled my blanket up over her.

An idea comes to me as I watch my little star rest. I begin to cover the canvas in black paint. I don’t know how much time passes as I lose myself to my art. At some point Declan and Emerson come up to check on us but seeing me covered in paint and focused on a new piece they know to leave me alone. They also leave Harper where she is.

Hours later I’m covered in sweat and exhausted. Normally I’d just pass out like this, but I don’t want to go to sleep next to Harper like that. I do the bare minimum in the shower, washing my hair and getting all the paint off.

As soon as my back hits the bed, she rolls toward me. Her hands and feet are freezing as she wraps herself around me. I’d take that discomfort all night long if it means lying next to her.

The sound of her whimpering wakes me from a dead sleep. I wrap my arms around her and pull her to my chest. Her entire body trembles against mine as she cries out what sounds like please, no. I’m instantly on alert, wondering how best to wake her from whatever haunts her.

“Harper.” I shush her quietly, trying to soothe her. “Wake up, asteraki mu.” My hands roam up and down her back in long strokes.

Her eyes flutter open as she begins to wake. I don’t say anything until she realizes where she is and who she’s with. The last thing I want to do is startle her awake from a nightmare.

“Sorry,” she mumbles sleepily. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in your bed.”

“It’s okay. I like having you in here.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah.” She nuzzles closer to me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

“Okay.” I run my fingers in small circles on the small of her back. Her skin is so deliciously soft back there.

“That feels so good.” She sighs and relaxes into my hold.

“Can I go higher up your back?”

She nods, giving me consent. I run my hands up and down her bare back under the shirt she’s wearing. My dick twitches to life as I realize she’s not wearing a bra. A devilish part of me wants to move my hands to her sides, tracing up her ribs, but I’m not sure if that would be welcome.

“You smell good.” She runs her nose along my throat.

I don’t think she understands how good that feels or what she’s doing to me .

“I’m glad you think so. I showered for your benefit, not mine.”

“Wait. What?” She lifts her head to look at me.

“Painting tends to make me a sweaty, smelly mess. I didn’t want to subject you to that when you were sleeping so peacefully.”

She smiles and snuggles back down against me. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

“Thank you for being in my bed.”

My fingers trace over one of her scars. “Do you want to talk about these?”

“No.”

Fair enough. “You know most of the tattoos on my back are there to cover scars.”

“From what?”

“A strap mostly but a couple stab wounds, too.”

“Oh my gosh.” She sits up and looks down at me in the dim light. “How?”

“The strap is a family thing. It’s not so much used as punishment as it is for training. The stab wounds were from someone I thought was a friend, but obviously wasn’t.” I don’t want to go into details with her about my family, I just wanted her to know she’s not alone. “Covering them in tattoos felt like taking back control from them.”

“Can I see? ”

I sit up and turn my back to her, pulling my hair up on top of my head. She probably can’t see that well with only moonlight and the small night light plugged in near the stairs providing light. Her fingers trace over the tough, uneven scars from the countless lashes I was the recipient of. The stab wounds are low on the left side of my back, luckily the blade didn’t hit anything important, I just had to get a blood transfusion.

“I’ve thought about getting a tattoo, but I’m not sure I can think of something big enough to cover all the burns.”

“I’m sure if we sat down long enough, we could come up with something.”

“Would you draw the design?”

“I’d be honored,” I say honestly. “Trusting someone to put their art on your body permanently is incredibly humbling. But you’d have to let me see them if we do that,” I add to lighten the mood.

She bites her lip and looks away for a moment. Just when I’m about to either apologize or make another joke, she reaches down and grabs the hem of her shirt. Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, she’s sitting topless in my bed.

Fuck.

Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard .

I repeat the chant like an inner monologue as I force my eyes away from the way her full tits hang from her chest in perfect teardrop shapes. I definitely don’t want to notice how her nipples are the same exact shade of dusky pink that her lips are. It for sure doesn’t take inhuman effort to lower my eyes to her ribs.

But as soon as I do, a red haze lowers over my field of vision. Just as I thought, dozens of burns mar her body. Rage wells up just beneath the surface as I struggle to hold my feelings in check.

“Can I touch them?” I ask once I manage to get my anger under control.

“Yeah.” She nods and watches as my fingertips move from one to another, ghosting along her skin.

“You could do something with a fine line design, maybe flowers or leaves on a branch or vine.”

“Each scar could be a flower or a bud. I like that. It’s poignant.”

I wrap my palm around her ribs, my thumb brushing the underside of her breast. I pull my hand back, not meaning to get so close, but she grabs it and puts it back.

“Don’t stop.”

“Harper,” I say her name with a pained hesitancy. I don’t want to stop, and I’m not sure that I can keep going. There just needs to be a conversation with all of us before things go too far without us all knowing we’re on the same page.

“Please,” she whispers. “I love when you touch me.”

Damn.

I’m a strong man but not strong enough to say no to that confession. We move toward each other at the same time, our lips meeting in a soft caress. I lean back against the headboard and pull her onto my lap. Her tiny shorts sit high up on her legs exposing her soft thighs.

Tiny moans escape her as my lips move from her mouth down her neck. Her pulse flutters beneath kisses as her head falls back, giving me all the access I could ever want to her beautiful neck and décolletage. I palm both of her tits, each more than a handful and so fucking soft. My dick pulses beneath her pussy, and I know she feels it because her hips rock against me.

She might be a virgin, but it feels like our bodies know one another. She grinds against me so naturally, like we were made to be the perfect counterbalance to each other. I just want more. I want everything.

I want to feel her cunt stretched around me. I want to feel my cock slide against Emerson’s while we worship at the altar of her body together. My fingers pinch and toy with her nipples until they’re hardened tips. Her back arches when I run my tongue piercing in a circle over one of the stiff peaks.

“If you like that, wait until I’m eating your pussy.”

Her eyes sparkle with curiosity until I move my hand down and slip my fingers under the hem of her shorts, teasing along the seam of her panties. Her lips cover mine again as she chases each movement I make. I can feel how wet she is seeping through the cotton barrier between us.

“Take these off.” I pull on her shorts and panties.

She takes me by surprise when she does what I tell her without being shy. I watch as she pulls them down, never taking her eyes off me. There’s a comfort that exists between us, has since the beginning, but I’ve never felt it so clearly as I do now.

That’s why I don’t hesitate to slide down between her parted thighs until her swollen, needy cunt is right above my mouth. She’s beautiful. I wrap my arms around her thighs to keep her steady even as she asks what I’m doing.

Instead of answering with words, I use my tongue in other ways. One long lick along her slit, stopping to toy with her clit. She grabs the headboard as I pull her fully over me. I use the tip of my piercing to circle her clit as quickly as I can. As soon as she begins to tremble over me, I back off, I’m not ready for her to come yet. When I look up, I lock eyes with her, her chest moves up and down with deep breaths. Without moving my eyes from hers, I reach out and brush her clit with my tongue.

“Cy,” she gasps my name as I slide my fingers inside her. Her forehead drops to the edge of the headboard. “Oh fuck.”

My cock throbs at hearing the curse from her lips and knowing I’m the one who made her crumble. Her pussy is so fucking wet as I move my fingers in and out of her. I can feel her desire dripping down my hand as she starts to come. She explodes around me when I suck her clit at the same time I circle her g-spot.

I lick and stroke her through every wave of her orgasm, making sure to follow her body’s lead as I slow my pace. Honestly, I could stay here forever, just worshiping her like this. I wonder how many times I can make her come in one night?

She moves to the side and collapses, a light sheen of sweat dotting her forehead. Her cheeks are rosy but not of the normally embarrassed hue she takes on when she blushes. This is a rosiness borne from pleasure, and I want to put it there again and again.

Unfortunately for me, she’s already drifting off to sleep. I doubt I’ll be able to fall back asleep, but I wrap myself around her anyway. I’m happy to just lay here and hold her.