Page 19 of Relapse
I took my time, running my hand along her dresser piled high with stuffed animals. One in particular caught my eye. A white rabbit with a big red bow.
I gave that one to her for her seventh birthday. The rabbit next to it I gave her the year after, and so on. She still had them all. Four bunnies lined up in a neat little row from earliest to latest.
My jaw clenched. Was this shit trophies to her? Something to remind Harper that she got one over on me? Well, fuck that. I swung my hand out, knocking the pile on the floor. She always did have a thing for rabbits. Maybe I’d make her eat one.
Stopping at the side of her bed, I stared down as her eyes moved behind closed lids, causing her long lashes to flutter. She was fast asleep and completely vulnerable. I could do anything I wanted to her.
My dick twitched as I slowly pulled the blanket off her body. She was so fucking tiny. Her foot would fit in the palm of my hand. Like a doll. I watched her chest rise and fall, pressing those perfect handful sized mounds against the blue fabric of her shirt.
When I was a kid, I liked playing with dolls. Ripping their heads and arms off while little girls cried. Now I wanted to play a different game with a more realistic doll. She’d still cry though.
Big fat tears that I could lick off her face.
Couldn’t taste those tears if she was asleep though. So I reached over and flicked on the fairy lights, waiting for her to wake up.
She didn’t. All Harper did when the tiny purple and blue lights danced around the room was whimper and roll over.
My eyes automatically went to the tiny specks dotting her face. There were thirty-seven freckles across her button nose. I knew this because I counted them every time I saw her.
I knew everything about those dots. How far each one was from her big doe eyes, or plump pink lips. Which one was the darkest, which one was the lightest. I even remembered the ones that faded with time.
Twelve missing freckles that died with my love. Did I still want her? Yeah. That much I’d admit. I wanted to use Harper in every possible way a man could use a woman.
And why shouldn’t I? I fought my desire long enough. Why shouldn’t I take what I wanted? She did. She tore my heart in half without so much as a second thought.
It was my turn.
“What do you think, Freckles,” I walked my fingers down her side to the dip in her waist, where I tightened my fingers around her small hip, “should I just fuck you and get it over with?”
My eyes narrowed when I rolled her onto her back.
What the fuck?
Harper’s shirt was pulled up, exposing her stomach. The same stomach I’d seen bruises on less than three hours ago. Yet there weren’t any now. Make-up rubbed off onto my skin as I swiped my hand over her stomach. I stared at my fingertips, then glanced back down at the purple marks seeping through.
What was she trying to do? Hide the evidence?
“Tricky, tricky, Freckles.” I tsked. “You didn’t think I’d forget about this shit, did you?”
The only response I got was a quick shuddered breath.
“Of course you did.”Conniving bitch.“You thought you could pull another one over on old Mason. But I’ve got news for you…” I crawled on the bed and ran my hands up her legs. “I’m on to your games.”
She still didn’t respond. Not when her bed creaked under my weight, or when goosebumps trickled across her skin. How fucking deep did she sleep? I stared down at the bare skin of her leg and licked my lips.
Let’s find out.
I bent over and grazed my tongue up her calf, groaning when her sweet flavor exploded in my mouth. Fuck, she tasted good. Too good. I could devour her right now. Too bad I fucking loathed her. Otherwise I’d lick every inch of that body until she was begging for more.
Harper muttered something and tried to roll over, but I tightened my grip and held her where she was.
Just because I didn’t want to fuck her didn’t mean I couldn’t do other things. The sweet spot between her legs called to the beast inside me. Only one thought ran through my mind– does she smell as good as she tastes?
Like the addict I was, I dove in. Burying my nose in the fabric of her shorts to inhale that tempting scent deep in my soul.
“Fuuuck,” I groaned.
If my dick wasn’t begging for release before, then it sure as fuck was now. The fucker was so hard it thought it could punch through my jeans.
