Page 20 of Beneath the Dirt

Confused, he looks back at the crumpled invitation still in his possession.

“Then why do you have this?”

“I’m forbidden from leaving my room tomorrow. So what you’re going to do for me is sneak away from the Holy Harvest, make up some excuse, work or whatever, I don’t care, and you’re going to let me out.”

He shakes his head, but I continue.

“I’ll be back before Harvest is done.”

“Nope, not doing it. You need to stay home. Please.”

“Will it make you feel better if you come with me? That way my big, strong brother can take care of me?” I pout.

His silence is all the confirmation I need that he wants to go with me. To protect me, or maybe pretend he’s free for the evening. Either way, I take his lack of quip or fight as the ammo to solidify our plans for tomorrow evening.

Water splashes as I fully rise from the tub, the soap and bubbles falling from my curves, and he begins to backtrack.

“You’re afraid, Harlan.” I announce unintentionally sultry, but I don’t bother to change my tone.

His gaze lingers on my exposed sex as he continues his slow, backward walk, and I use his attention to my advantage. Parting my thighs, I bend one knee and place my foot on the edge of the slippery porcelain bath. Keeping it there, I dip my fingers into my pussy, dragging them up and down slowly. Coating them in a mixture of arousal and bathwater, I circle over my clit, giving her the attention she’s been begging for since watching him eat out that girl in the church basement.

Swirling my digits at the bundle of nerves, I touch myself. “Are you afraid of what he’ll do toyouifIdisobey him? Or are you afraid that you want to disobey him… with me?”

“No,” he growls, turning his head.

“Don’t lie, church boy. It’s a sin.” I remind him through a breathy pant.

“Don’t call me that,” he grinds out.

I spread my lips wider, pinching my clit, applying the pressure I like with two fingers, suffocating it with my touch. A moan escapes me before I can continue speaking.

His steps halted by the wall, and his head turns away from me, pretending like this is torture, as if he hadn’t imagined having this view of me a million times over.

“Stop praying in your head and look at me. Look at how pretty I am when I touch myself for you,” I demand, and to my surprise, he listens. Not only that, he starts to lower himself onto the floor.

Edging myself, I extend my bent knee and step out of the tub. Moving over to him, I sink my wet body onto his lap, straddling him on the floor.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks.

“Because if I don’t, I may die waiting for you to make the first move.” I drop the book on the floor beside us and wrap my arms around his neck. Leaning in, I force my breasts against his shirt. “And because I think it’s kind of hot how afraid of me you are.”

“No, I’m not,” he whispers.

“Ssh.” Slowly, I grind my hips on his lap as I lower my lips to his ear. “I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to. Maybe you and I can experience a different kind of pain than the one your dad inflicts on us. Maybe we can hurt each other while making each other feel good.”

He stays tight-lipped.

Tough fucking crowd.

Switching up tactics, I move my lips from his ear to his mouth. Deciding to up the fun, I bring my hand to his thick throat. Grazing the protrusion of his Adam's apple before rotating my wrist and wrapping my small palm around his neck as much as it can go.

My lips skim his. Our breath competes with one another. “Tell me, brother, whose pussy you had to lick this time pretending it was mine?” I press a kiss to his lips and hold it there, reveling in his thrashing heartbeat and the quiver he’s trying so damn hard to stifle. Breaking the seal of our kiss, I swipe my tongue at his cupid's bow, humming as I do it. “Stop punishing yourself for wanting to break the rules.” I bite at his bottom lip, tugging it.

He groans, lips puckering to kiss mine, but I pull back, just enough that he can see my fingers drop to the apex of my thighs. In stunned silence Harlan watches me thrust my hand deep inside my pussy. A subtle gasp sneaks past his lips as I bring my wet digit to his mouth.

“Sin with me,” I hum, smearing my arousal on his lips. He doesn’t flinch or fight it like he wants to.Like he should. “I’ll make it worth the burn. I’ll have you begging for it.” I take my hand and pat him on the cheek playfully. “You want that don’t you? I can feel it.” My eyes skim to his cock, thickening under my straddling stance.

Embarrassment stains his cheeks as he deflects my question by looking at the book on the floor next to us, then back at me. His hands land on my sides as he squeezes at my wet hips, lifting me up and placing me down on the floor. He moves to the door, taking the towel off the hook, and wraps it around me. Looking back down at me, he slowly brushes his hand on my cheek—pausing there—before taking the same hand to his back pocket.

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