Page 40 of Queen of Blades

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she felt the same way about him that he did for her, but he’d be damned if he would let her get away without admitting it. Everything else could be sorted out later, but at this moment, he needed to know exactly where they stood.

Not that it would change his protection of her. He’d do that always, no matter what she said, but he needed to know where she stood on this—from her, not just his own beliefs.

Closing her eyes, Harper drooped. Her forehead pressed against his, and she rested her hands on the insides of his elbows. “You know it is,” she whispered.

21

Harper

Noneofthismadeany sense. Harper shouldn’t have any feelings for Paul. She knew, for a fact, who and what he was—bad for her. Her brain told her to hate him, despise what he did, what he’d agreed to do, but her body—and her heart—had other ideas. The moment his lips crashed against hers, she wilted. Her knees gave out, and she submitted to the volcano of affection for him. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

Her heart hammered against her sternum as he claimed her mouth. He said she’d always been his and he hers. She felt that to her core. No truer words had ever been spoken. Paul had intrigued her on day one—he’d protected her when no one else would. He took a damn bullet for her. How could she not have fallen for him?

Their lives took drastically different paths. Both of them were fully aware they were on opposite sides of things. Yet neither of them attempted to stop the other. He never stood in her way. Not once had he asked, or demanded, she do anything different with her life. She never thought to request he change his either.

They were who they were—powerful magnets drawn to each other. Their attraction was so potent and volatile, they were a powder keg ready to explode. The toxicity of it drew her like a moth to a flame.

Paul broke their kiss and scooped her up into his arms. Closing her eyes, panting wildly, she quivered, needy for him as she rested her head on his shoulder. There would be no coming back from this. Regardless of their choices, they’d never be able to deny their feelings. If anything, this minor inconvenience of people wanting them dead only detonated the inevitable. They’d either survive together or die together. There were no other options.

The only question left to answer was what they would be after the mushroom cloud—when the dust settled. How would they move forward from this?

Paul

Carefully, as though she were made of glass, Paul laid Harper on the bed. He needed her to breathe. His longing pulsed through his veins. It wasn’t the greedy, desperate craving he had back at the hotel. This wasn’t born out of adrenaline. This was pure.

There was no desire to rush any of it. They had all the time in the world. No one would find them. Only his family knew about the house, and they wouldn’t out them. They were safe and alone—free to do whatever they wanted.

Paul peeled his shirt from his body and tossed it to the side. Sitting up, Harper did the same. Reaching back, she unhooked her bra while he tugged at her leggings and panties. Once she’d been thoroughly de-clothed, he stood back and admired the glorious canvas that was her body.

Slowly, while drinking in all the ink decorating her, he pulled her knife from his back and laid it on the dresser before undoing his belt and trousers. His gaze followed each intricate detail of the swirls around the large skull and roses on her thighs, the massive marijuana leaf on her hip, the dream catcher just below her breasts. Harper was a masterpiece.

Stepping out of his pants, he climbed onto the bed and straddled her. Their eyes locked as her chest rose and fell. He swore he could see her pulse throbbing in her neck. It made his cock twitch over her beautifully tattooed stomach.

“I never want this moment to end,” he whispered. “This peace we have right now won’t last, but I want to cherish it, and you, forever.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Leaning down, covering her with his body, he gently pressed his lips over hers for a tender kiss. Soft and sweet, he savored her.

Her arms wrapped around him, and she raked her fingers through his hair. Chills ran down his spine. Moving down, he slowly kissed along her jawline until he found the hollow of her throat.

While he swirled his tongue against her skin, she arched her back and pressed her body against his. Biting back his groan as his dick throbbed, he grazed his teeth along her collarbone and down toward her chest.

He cupped her left breast in one hand, bringing his fingers together to tweak her nipple, and his tongue flicked against the tip of the right one. Her breath hitched, and his stomach fluttered. He wasn’t sure which he liked more, the feel of her, the taste of her, or the sounds she made when he explored her body.

Massaging both her breasts, he kissed all around the flesh of one and then the other before he licked between and down. She jerked beneath him when his tongue flicked against her belly, letting out a nervous chuckle.

Looking up at her, he grinned. “Stay still, little Dixie.”

The pink hue in her cheeks as she bit down on her bottom lip had his balls aching for release. After she offered him the slightest of nods, he flattened his palm over her belly and made his way south, between her spread thighs.

Shifting, he looped his forearms under her legs and yanked her to the end of the bed. Paul rested on his knees and admired the splendor that was Harper’s pussy. She had a tuft of soft curls at the mound, and her full, puffed lips were slick with her wetness.

His mouth watered at the sight. He already knew her to be delicious and reactive, but he wanted to wait. They had a brief snapshot in time to slow down and thoroughly enjoy each other. He didn’t know how much longer this would last. Neither of them was safe, and he wanted to make sure he took advantage of the time they had together.

Hunkering down, wrapping his arms around her spread legs, Paul lowered his head and inhaled the musky aroma of Harper’s arousal. His cock strained, leaking precum, as he brought his mouth to her sex.

He lapped figure eights, making her writhe from his attentions. Nothing satisfied him more than watching her squirm and hearing her moans. She slapped her hands against the mattress and squeezed his head, but each response drove him to keep going.

When his tongue circled her clit, she bucked against his face.

---