by Holly Hart
“Why?” I pant, catching my breath. Those little voices start up in my head again – was I not good enough? Did I do something wrong?
Then Harlan sweeps them all away.
“Because I’m going to fuck you, of course,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
I guess to him, it is. He looks at me with burning desire in those ice cold eyes – hot enough I half expect them to melt like icicles in the springtime sun. And the look in those eyes sets me on fire as well.
Harlan stokes the flames of desire inside me just by looking at me. He jerks his head at the bed. “Get on.”
I do as I’m told, but I can’t help it. I try to stifle a giggle.
“What?” Harlan protests.
“You look ridiculous,” I laugh.
Harlan really does. He’s still got his boxers around his thighs, and his combat pants tangled around his ankles.
Luckily, Harlan doesn’t take offense.
“I guess it’s time for you to get to work, then,” he says, offering me the world.
I don’t need him to ask twice.
I drag him towards the bed by his vest, then throw him down. He almost trips on his pants in the process.
“I suppose I’ve got to take off your shoes as well, do I?” I say, giggling at the sight of Harlan lying on his back, his cock standing ramrod straight.
Harlan shrugs, an action that only tents his jacket around his shoulders. “I don’t care,” he says mischievously. “I’d fuck you standing up, lying down, with shoes on, or off. It doesn’t matter a bit to me.”
My eyes widen. “How romantic of you.”
“What can I say? I try.”
I busy my fingers with Harlan’s laces, and then one shoe then the other lands with a thump somewhere on the floor. I don’t care where, as long as he’s not wearing them.
His combat pants are the next to go, and then his boxers.
“Are you just going to lie there?” I grumble, eyeing his magnificently straight package with admiration, “or are you planning to help anytime soon?”
Harlan shakes his head as if to wake himself from a particularly enjoyable dream. “I guess,” he says unwillingly, tearing his eyes away from my lingerie-clad body. Nevertheless, his fingers finally begin to tangle with the straps of his combat vest.
I roll off Harlan’s body, kissing the tip of his cock as I pass. I sit, kneeling over him, legs spread wide, and stroke his cock with my ass.
“Jesus, Skye,” Harlan groans, “it’s hard to believe you’re new to all this. You’re a fucking pro.”
“What can I say? I’m a quick learner.”
It’s true, I am. Also, I’m a more than willing student, especially when I’ve got a master like Harlan teaching me.
I kiss Harlan’s flat, toned belly as he finally loosens his shirt. I lay a trail of kisses up his body, then his neck, until I meet him at his lips.
“Finally…” I tease.
Harlan leans forward, clasping his fingers loosely around my neck. “Enough talk,” he says. “It’s time to find out if your pussy can cash these checks your mouth has been writing.”
My eyes spring open wide as Harlan’s fingers tighten around my neck. It’s a fucking turn on. I never knew that I would be into rough play like this.
Harlan pushes me roughly down onto his cock. My pussy’s dripping wet – but even so, Harlan’s massive length and girth is difficult to take. He’s bigger than any man I’ve ever been with – by an order of magnitude, even.
I don’t really know what that means, but it fits.
Unlike Harlan’s cock…
“Go slow,” I whimper as Harlan’s hips buck up beneath me. “You’re too big…”
He does as I ask. But it doesn’t take long before my pussy’s crying out for more. Harlan stretches me – but it’s a good kind of stretch. It hurts, but it also sends fireworks shooting up and down my body.
I relax, taking another inch, and then another. And then Harlan’s full length is inside me. I sink onto it, and my ass cheeks meet his thighs. It’s hard to believe that something so big can fit inside me … and yet it does.
His cock feels like it was always meant to be there.
“Still want me to go slow?” Harlan growls.
I shake my head.
“Say it!” Harlan orders me, his voice rough. I can hear the desire, the tantalizing closeness in his tone. It sends me into a spasm of want, of need.
“Fuck me,” I beg Harlan. “Fuck me and don’t stop.”
“Is that all?” He teases.
I shake my head, because I’m not done. I start speaking, saying things I didn’t know I had inside me. “I want to be your little slut,” I say.
“I want you to fuck me until I come, and then I want you to screw me some more. I don’t want you to stop until I stop moaning, and even then, check!”
“Now that,” Harlan says with an approving rumble in his throat, “I can do. Hell – I’ll get right on it.”
He grasps me by the hips, digging his fingernails into my soft skin. The spike of pain is unexpected – but delicious. I press my hips into him, and my mouth forms an O with the pleasure it causes.
Harlan starts to fuck me, thrusting his huge cock in and out. He goes slow at first, making sure I can take it. But the second he realizes that I can – that I can take every inch he thrusts into me, then more – he starts to speed up.
His pants and my moans form a soundtrack to a sweaty, wild, excessive session of making love. My ass cheeks slap against the top of his thighs, and every time they do, my skin shivers with pleasure.
“Harder!” I moan.
Harlan obliges. Harlan always obliges.
“Spin round,” he orders me.
I look down at him, kinking an eyebrow at first – betraying my inexperience. “What?”
“Spin,” he repeats, roughly. “I want to slap your ass.”
Oh, hell yes.
If this is what my sex life with Harlan is like now, when we’ve barely screwed half a dozen times, what’s it going to be like in a year’s time? I dread to think. Hell – there’s no dread involved.
I’m desperate to find out.
I spin on Harlan’s cock. Reverse cowgirl, I think, scrunching up my face as I wonder where I heard that term. Probably some girly magazine full of sex tips…
And then the time for thinking is over. The second I’m facing away from Harlan, he slaps my ass. The sound of the crack echoes around the room.
“Ouch!” I yelp, shocked by the mingled feelings of pleasure and pain that flood through my body. “Do it again…”
Harlan obliges, because Harlan always fucking obliges. He’s a slave to me in exactly the same way as I’m a slave to him. I’d do anything for him, and he’s the same way.
Harlan spanks me again, then thrusts into me faster and faster. He slaps me again, and again, until I think my ass must be red raw. And I love it.
“On your hands and knees, slut,” Harlan grunts after a couple more long minutes of desperate, sheet clenching pleasure. “I’m so close.”
Harlan gets up – kneeling, and grabs my hips, pulling me back against his cock.
Doggie style, I think. This is definitely –
SLAP!
“Oh my God,” I whimper as the first inklings of an orgasm vibrates through me. “God, your cock feels so good.”
I don’t know what happened to the old Skye – the prim and proper girl who barely had sex and definitely couldn’t come – because the girl who replaced her is a dirty, filthy whore.
And I say that in the best possible way, because I love the new me!
“Clench your pussy,” Harlan growls. “It’ll send you over the edge.”
And you as well, I think, grinning with no malice.
But I do exactly as Harlan asks, because I know he’s right. I clench my pussy around Harlan’s thrusting cock, and suddenly everything turns up a notch. Every sensation is magnified, every flash of pleasure redou
bled.
“Oh God, Harlan,” I moan. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I think –”
I’m going to come…
Harlan groans underneath me as he struggles to thrust in and out as my pussy clenches around his cock like a steel vise.
“Jesus, Skye, you feel so fucking–”
Then I don’t hear anything more. Harlan spanks my ass one last time, and it’s like lighting the fuse that sets off the fireworks on New Year’s Eve. My orgasm hits me with the power of a thousand suns all exploding at once.
I don’t hear anything, can’t see anything, can barely feel anything other than nerve endings exploding all around my body. My nipples feel like balls of fire, and Harlan’s heat inside me continues burning, with a delicious, possessive ferocity.
Slowly the world comes back to me. I look over my shoulder, desperate to see my lover’s face. He’s lying there, looking shattered, exhausted and awed from the pleasure that just came over him. But he’s mine. He’s all mine.
I’m never giving him up.
Harlan opens his eyes and winks at me.
“I told you it would be worth it…”
Epilogue – Skye
Five weeks later
I can’t believe this is my life now. How did this happen? A few weeks ago, I was just little old Skye Warren – an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life – with, however, an extraordinary problem.
All of that has now changed.
Heck, the only ordinary thing left about me is that I actually can orgasm now, and I do – as often, as powerfully, and in as close proximity to the previous wave of pleasure that wracked through my body as I can arrange.
Luckily, I’ve got a man who’s more than willing to oblige.
The last few weeks have been something of a learning curve. I’ve been learning all about my body, about things most women just take for granted.
But for me, everything is new. Every sex position feels different. I’m on a personal mission to try them all, just to be sure. Better safe than sorry. That’s my motto.
Now, I’m not going to lie. Harlan’s not just talented, but he’s got a cock to match. It’s so it has to be seen to be believed, and even then, I still blink twice.
“Today’s the day,” Harlan says, approaching me from behind and squeezing me. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Ready?” I squeak, my voice catching in my throat like a teenage boy going through puberty. “Are you kidding? I’m about to wet myself!”
“Aw,” Harlan grins, with that smile he gets when he knows exactly what I’m talking about, but wants to play games on me. “She’s not so bad. Just a kid, still – heck, she’s only what, nine?”
I cock my head to one side, narrowing my eyes and stare daggers at the man I love. In moments like this, it’s hard to remember why.
“You know perfectly well, Harlan Wolfe,” I mutter. “Your daughter is ten years old.”
“Oh,” Harlan crows. “That’s right. Because you refused point blank to come to her birthday party…”
I spin around and punch Harlan in the arm. Gently.
“As you know perfectly well, I would have loved to have come!” I squeal, irritated beyond belief by the words coming out of Harlan’s mouth. He knows how to push my buttons better than anyone I’ve ever met.
Unfortunately for me, not just in bed.
Harlan bites his lip, and rakes my body with his gaze. “As I recall,” he winks, “you did last night, five times.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about, and you know it,” I mutter. I can’t help the dreamy smile that teases my lips as I remember the wave after wave of pleasure Harlan inflicted on me only a few hours before.
“Oh?” He growls, hiking his eyebrow up. “Remind me.”
I pout. “Poppy, remember. I was saying it wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to turn up to her party after knowing you for what, a week?”
Harlan frowns. “But she’s going to love you!”
“That’s not the issue, Harlan, and you know it. You can’t just introduce a kid to all the women in your life. What would–”
Harlan stifles my outburst with a kiss. He presses his lips against mine, and kisses me with intensity, passion and desire.
“I don’t introduce her to all the women in my life,” he growls when he finally breaks away from his grip on my lips. “There are no other women. You are the only one, Skye – and that’s the way it’s going to be. Forever.”
I try and maintain a frown so that Harlan knows how seriously I feel about this.
But it’s hard.
His face has a boyish charm that it’s difficult to resist. Heck, there’s nothing about Harlan Wolfe that I’m capable of resisting. But I have to try.
“But how do you know?” I ask, clinging to Harlan’s body. “What if she doesn’t like me, if she thinks I’m trying to replace Ashley? Or –” my face blanches as I dream up an even worse horror, “if she thinks I’m trying to steal you away from her?”
I can’t bring myself to say what I truly fear, but it sticks with me regardless – a needle in my side, prodding me every time I try to imagine a future with this wonderful man.
Who would you choose – me or her?
I know there’s only one answer to that question. There’s only one answer I would ever want to hear. I could never be with a man who would choose a woman over his own daughter. But that’s easy to say, less easy to live through.
All I want is to commit to Harlan Wolfe, to marry him, and to live with him forever. But I’m terrified, because none of that is in my control.
It’s under Poppy’s.
Besides, I’m not the kind of girl who’s happy to steam in to someone else’s life. If Poppy doesn’t like me, I’m not going to play with Harlan’s emotions. I won’t manipulate him into speaking to his daughter on my behalf. I’d never do that.
But that leaves me in limbo – Waiting –
– For today.
Harlan pulls away from me, places his hands on my upper arms, and grips me tight. He looks baffled, as though he wants to shake some sense into me.
“Poppy’s the nicest, kindest, most beautiful kid I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says. I can tell from the faraway look on his face that he’s speaking directly from the heart.
“And you’re the most beautiful woman I know – you’re the woman who saved my life –” he cuts me off from talking, “and don’t you dare attempt to deny it. I wasn’t about to end up in the gutter, but I was on a downward spiral before I met you, Skye. You saved me – believe that. Believe in yourself.”
“I do,” I whisper, although I’m not sure it’s true.
“She’s going to love you, Skye. She’s going to love you because you’re good for me. You make me a better man, and a better father. And you know what? You know the last reason she’s going to love you?”
“What?” I croak through a broken, clenched throat.
“She’s going to love you because I love you, Skye. I love you like I thought I never would again. I thought my heart was broken – walled off. That it couldn’t feel like this anymore. But you proved that wrong. You proved me wrong. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.”
Harlan’s lips meet mine. This time, his kiss is gentle and caring. I can tell he means every word he says.
He breaks away. “So will Poppy. Are you ready to meet her?”
I bite my lip, and not quickly. I think – for now at least – I’m going to keep my first meeting with Poppy, via video chat, our little secret.
I step out of Harlan’s black limousine. It’s crazy how ordinary living this kind of life already seems. Six weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what the inside of a limousine looked like if you had put a gun to my head.
Now? I can pretty much recount every detail, down to the thread count of the seats’ leather stitching.
“Is she here already?” I ask, clutching Harlan’s arm. “I’m nervous…”
It’s true. I am. I’v
e spoken to Poppy once before, but this is different. Then, I was scared for Harlan’s life, my head spinning as I came face-to-face – or screen to screen – with his beautiful daughter.
So I guess in a lot of ways, nothing has changed.
“You don’t say,” Harlan grins. He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Chill. She’s going to love you. Hell, she can’t wait. It’s all she’s talked about all week! I told her not to get so excited. You’re okay, I guess…”
I pinch Harlan’s arm and shoot him daggers. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He glances ostentatiously at his wristwatch. “She’s here. Her driver brought her straight from school. And we had best hurry. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting…”
Harlan winks at me, making sure I know he’s joking, but he only adds to my nervousness. It’s so easy for him! Poppy loves him unconditionally, like I do. I bet he can’t imagine she’d think any other way.
Except, what if she does? What if she decides I’m stealing her father away, or that we’re dishonoring her mother’s memory? I don’t know what I’d do.
We walk up to the restaurant foyer. It’s a place called Mabel’s. I’ve read about it somewhere – the review section of the New York Times, maybe, but before I met Harlan, I never imagined I would step inside. Heck, even an entrée in a place like this probably costs more than a month’s rent.
Not anymore, I remind myself.
Because, from tomorrow – and assuming this meeting with Poppy goes well – I’m going to be moving in and living with the man I love.
So there’s no pressure or anything.
“You’re late,” are the first words that come out of Poppy’s stern, ten-year-old lips as we’re ushered to our table. She frowns at us, and then grins. “I thought they were going to take our table away!”
“No way, kiddo,” Harlan says, striding forward and ruffling his daughter’s hair affectionately. “Besides, I’d like to see them try and make you move…”
Poppy stands up politely and smiles at me. She looks so innocent. I wonder if she knows how fast my heart is beating!
