“You could use this against me too.” He rolled his lips between his teeth, studying my eyes like I was some sort of interesting, exotic animal he’d never seen before. “But we don’t need to do that to each other. I think,” he traced his lips down my neck until he pressed a tentative kiss to my collarbone, “this is what we need to do.”
I nodded, letting out the most pathetic “uh huh” I’ve ever made. My body was crying out for him, my pussy already slippery even though we were submerged. Harlan rolled my pelvis so my center stroked his cock, and I felt it again: little hard beads stacked on his shaft.
“Harlan, are you pierced?”
He smirked again and looked between us like he wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. Am I?” He used his hand to guide me all the way to his tip, then back down again. “Why don’t you count them for me?”
I put my hands on his shoulders and pressed my chest into his, starting a slow grind from his base. There was one, then two.
Harlan’s voice was low and gentle. “Start over. Let Daddy hear you count.”
A little moan escaped me. Holy shit. I didn’t know I was into that but now it was happening and could my nipples get any harder?
“One, two,” I curled my hips more to search for the next one, “it’s kind of hard to tell.”
His fingers toyed with the tie at my hip. “Do you need to get closer?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Just yes?” He raised his eyebrows and waited, his hand coasting over the divot of my waist.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Withhimof all people. It made no sense, but in the moment, it made all the sense in the world and I couldn’t even consider putting an end to this.
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
Harlan’s lips and mustache brushed under my jaw. “Such a good girl,” he whispered into my skin.
He pulled the thin, dark blue string at my hip, the string bikini I ordered for myself the night after the hot tub gotdelivered because, for whatever reason, I wanted to feel sexy in my hot tub.
The hot tub thathehad given me. The string bikini I never imagined Harlan would see on me, the one that, deep down, I knew I bought with him in mind.
The bikini I bought because it was sexy, but also because it was the color of his eyes. The bikini I bought because I liked the thought of how he might look at me if I wore it.
Here he was, looking at me even more intensely than I imagined he would. Because while there was a thrumming, insistent sexual beat to this, there was also a raw and needy tenderness.
And now, my skin begged for him to take it off. He popped the string on my other hip open and, with a light tug on the back of it, the fabric floated away behind me. My hips chased his fingers, wanting him to touch me, needing relief for this all-consuming ache.
“Count again for me, Emma.”
Logical Emma wanted to smack him, to tell him he was ridiculous, to tell him to fuck off and get out of my house. But Logical Emma wasn’t home. This version of me felt more alive than I’d felt in a long time. Understood. Like everything clicked into place.
Now bare to him and separated only by his Calvins, I started my slow ascent to his cloth-covered tip. “One, two,” I paused to moan as the barbells caught on my engorged clit and rolled off it.
“Good.” Harlan brushed his lips over my chest. “Keep going.”
One hand cupped my ass while the other started to creep up my back.
“Three, four, fuck, it feels so good.”
He grinned against my skin. His fingers pulled open the tie at my mid-back. “I know it does, princess. Keep counting.”
Princess. He’d only called me that when he was trying to insult me. Here, it felt like bonafide praise. He caressed the exposed skin on my back.
“Five,” I gasped, hardly believing what I was feeling, “six?”
“Very good, Emma.” I started squirming, wanting to grind away on him, but he held me still. “Not yet. Should we take this top off?”
“Yes.” I nodded emphatically. He could have asked for some pretty absurd things in that moment and I would have done them.