by Lucy Smoke
Bellamy's strong, molten brown eyes met my gaze. "I want you to be careful," he said. "I don't trust this woman. I think she's dangerous. I don't like the fact that she's had you followed. I don't like the fact that she seems willing to do whatever it takes to get her son back. Grayson is—"
I reached forward and took his hand, holding it firmly between mine. "Grayson is one of us now," I said.
"I know," he replied with a sigh, staring down at our intertwined hands. He turned his palm over and let his fingers fall into place alongside mine—like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.
"I know you haven't liked him before," I said quietly. "I know that you don't necessarily trust him—"
"Marv is okay with him," Bellamy interrupted, "and I trust Marv."
"So, you're okay with him now?" I asked hesitantly.
Bellamy shook his head. "I'm learning to be. He seems to make you happy, yes?" I nodded, holding his gaze. "I just want you to be safe and happy, Sweetheart." My chest ached with the sweetness of his words.
Releasing his hand, I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. "I am happy with you guys," I promised. "You mean the world to me. You're my family." The love I felt for him—for all of them—tightened in my chest, swelling to impossible standards.
Bellamy hugged me back. "I love you, Harlow," he whispered into my hair, pressing a light kiss against my neck.
I froze. That kiss reminded me of that time in Ms. Enders' Etiquette Camp—when he had climbed up into my window and...
My cheeks flushed pink as I pulled back and looked at him.
"Harlow?"
My breath was stuck in my throat, but I opened my mouth and forced the words out anyway. "I love you too."
He shook his head, reaching up. Bellamy cupped my cheek in one hand and I leaned into the warmth. "You don't have to say it just because—"
"I'm not," I swore. "I said it because I mean it. I love you, Bellamy."
How could I prove that to him? How could I show him that I did care, that I did love him? My eyes drifted lower, landing on his full, masculine lips. Heat rose within me. I leaned forward.
"Sweetheart—" I cut off his next words with a kiss, pressing my lips against his and closing my eyes as I sank into the sensation. Little pops of heat cropped up under my flesh. I kissed Bellamy like he was my heart and soul, and in a lot of ways, he was. He was kind. He was funny. He was protective. He was Bellamy. He was mine.
His hands came up, one cupping me around my waist as he pulled me forward to bend my chest towards him. The other hand found the back of my neck, keeping my head angled so that he could delve into my mouth even deeper, slipping his tongue between my lips. He teased my senses, twining his tongue with mine, drawing it out to play with his. I shivered as he staked his claim, rocking me down to my very core.
I clutched Bellamy's arm with one hand and used the other to burrow my fingers into the mass of dark, shoulder length hair that he had left down. Untamed, his hair was like silk against my fingers, drawing me in. His beauty was something normal men didn't possess, and though I was sure he might find it embarrassing to hear me say it—I thought he was beautiful.
Finally, I had to pull away so that I could breathe—so that we both could. Our chests rose and fell as we opened our eyes and stared, our gazes clashing like wildfire. "You own me, Harlow," he whispered, his voice a raspy husk. "Body and soul. I love you and even if it means I have to share you, I want you in my life forever."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to respond to a declaration like that. It was so heartfelt and it made me melt on the inside. I knew my skin was flushed pink—with both embarrassment and attraction. I shivered as his fingers dug into my side, but he released me easily when I pulled away. His eyes were hooded as I slowly sank down to my knees. I’d heard about girls who did this for guys in high school. I’d heard guys talk about how some girls were better than others, how some couldn’t get enough.
With the blush staining across my cheeks, I reached for his waistband.
“Harlow?” He blinked down at me.
I sucked in a breath and freed him from his pants, pulling the sweats down along with his boxers until they were both around his ankles.
“Jesus…” he hissed as I palmed his erection. His head dropped back, and he groaned low in his throat as I stroked him.
When I pressed my lips to the head, he jerked up again and stared down at me as if he couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You know you don’t have to.”
I laughed lightly—a jumble of nerves and excitement. "I know I don’t,” I said before sobering. "But I’m ready for you to love me and I want to show you how much I love you.”
“You do, sweetheart,” he insisted, though his hands reached for my hair, sliding through the strands. “You show me every day.”
“I’d like to show you again,” I replied. “Right now.”
Bellamy cracked a smile, his large bare chest shaking with amusement. "That's why I love you, sweetheart—you make me laugh."
I opened my mouth and licked his head and he choked, cutting off his laughter as his hands tightened on my hair. “I love you, Bellamy,” I whispered against him. His eyes met mine and widened for a brief moment before his eyelids sank down as I opened further and let him sink inside.
“Mother of fuck,” he hissed. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he pressed inward, helping me to take him inside. I almost didn’t want to shake my head. I didn’t want to disturb the moment I had created. It was what I wanted. Him focused on me, on this, but I did so anyway, nodding. His smile was brilliant.
“You don’t, sweetheart,” he said with a shake of his head. “No one but me knows how beautiful you are to me. Not even the others. Because I see you differently. Indescribably. But that’s just another thing I love about you.”
He finished pushing forward. His length sat in my mouth and I squirmed at the strange feeling of this act. But I didn’t dislike it. In fact, I could definitely say that with the way Bellamy looked down at me as though I were his Queen, it was probably my new favorite thing.
I started to suck him slowly, trying to get used to it. I hollowed out my mouth in a way I thought he wanted. I must have been right because he sighed and undulated against my tongue with another quiet curse. His groans rippled up through his chest.
A warmth emanated from inside me, making my thighs wet. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, bringing my hands up to cup his sides. His fingers dug their way into my hair, holding me fast and tight.
When I next opened my eyes and looked up, I started as his dark brown eyes connected with mine. They took me in, full of desire, and need and love. I shuddered.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered almost reverently.
I continued to suck him, licking his thick underside. Bobbing my head. A hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth and the hands in my hair clutched me tighter. Then, suddenly, he tugged, pulling me back and up to my feet.
“That’s enough,” he growled. “I want more.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what ‘more’ was.
Before I could reply, his lips crashed against mine and he turned, taking me down to the bed. He crushed me into the mattress, but to be honest, I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t feel anything other than him in that moment.
I opened my mouth, my body, and heart to him—spread my legs and relished in the feel of him settling between them. I didn't want to ever stop kissing him. It was like drowning in the sweetest drug. His lips took mine again and again, driving me higher and higher. His hands stroked me, down to my stomach and then at the edge of the waistband of my sleep shorts. I pulled away from his mouth when he stopped.
"What are you waiting for?" I asked quietly. Heat rushed to my face—I didn’t want to disrupt the moment despite the hard, edgy need crawling through my veins—but I wanted him with a fire that had been slowly stoke
d and was ready to rage out of control.
"Permission," he whispered back.
"You have it," I promised. “You always have it with me.”
And with that, he let both of his hands find the waistband of my sleep shorts and he gently pulled them down my legs. Bellamy’s mouth trailed hot, wet kisses along my legs until the shorts were tugged away from my feet, and he went back for my underwear, repeating the process until my knees were complete jello. I moaned as his rough beard stubble scraped against my soft, tender skin.
Bellamy crawled back up as I found the hem of my tank top with my fingers, and I jerked it up and over my head, tossing it away. His eyes found me in the darkness of my bedroom and his head tilted down once more. My lips touched his and electricity shot through my nerves, lighting me up.
Every movement, every subtle shift of his skin against mine rocketed me further up the precipice of my excitement. He came over me, his hips driving between my thighs. My legs spread out, allowing him access between them. My skin felt electric, it felt alive. Everywhere he touched sent ricochets of lightning racing through my nerves. I was both nervous and excited. I knew this would go further than we’d ever been before.
"Bellamy..." His name was a whispered prayer on my lips as he kissed my neck and then my collarbone. His mouth descended slowly, causing shivers to wrack my body as he licked one of my nipples and then took it in his mouth. I gasped and arched against him, my back bowing up off the mattress as a shudder worked its way through my system. The shock of his mouth on me kept me transfixed.
Though I'd done this before, it was all still new because it was my first time with him. "You taste so sweet, Harlow."
I squeezed my eyes shut at his words, not realizing that—in doing so—I would only heighten the rest of my senses. It was as though my body had been dipped into a simmering pot. Heat rushed throughout my limbs as I clung to Bellamy, moaning when his mouth left my breasts and brushed my stomach as he settled even lower.
Goosebumps trailed across my skin as Bellamy's lips touched my core and when his tongue snaked out, I gasped, holding fast to the back of his head. His hair was so soft, but it was also a wonderful anchor. I grabbed onto it, letting him pull me down under a wave of ecstasy as his mouth took me beyond the physical.
White-hot fire raced into my mind, eating away any thought or brain cell that wasn't completely and solely focused on what he was doing to me. Pleasure was etched into my arteries, climbing up through my body until there was nothing left but Bellamy and the control he had over me. He licked and sucked as I moaned and gyrated against the ministrations of his tongue. When his mouth finally left my core and he moved up, reaching to the side for something, my eyes opened.
"Condom?" I asked, even as I panted and gasped for breath.
He nodded. Bellamy retrieved the condom and then with a little finesse, he donned it. "Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" he asked, holding himself up by his thick muscular arms.
I nodded, reaching for his face and cupping it in my much paler and smaller hands. "Yes," I whispered, leaning up to kiss him. I kissed him once, twice, three times—letting my tongue tangle with his as one of his hands left the mattress and found the curve of my hip. I tilted my pelvis up as he entered.
It was so tight, he had to stop kissing me, tugging himself away to grit his teeth. I groaned and squirmed at the feel of him, blinking as I struggled to adjust to him.
"Fuck—Harlow—sweetheart..." He couldn't seem to voice what he was thinking and to be honest, I don't know how he even managed to get out that much. I couldn't talk at all. All I could do was moan and hold onto him as he pushed all the way inside. I clutched him, digging my nails into his back and shoulders.
He thrust, pumping himself deep inside. Words fell from his lips—words of love and cherishing. I let them flow over me as I brought his mouth back to mine. I kissed him, hoping that my inability to voice the thoughts in my head would be transferred through our physical contact. I hoped he understood just how important he was to me, how much he meant to me, how much I loved him.
My mind raced for the edge, falling over into the darkness and exploding at the same time that his grip against my skin became impossibility hard and bruising. He grunted and then released a groan against my neck as he pulled his face away from mine and burrowed against my throat. Satisfaction bloomed in my chest as I stroked his hair, letting him rest against me.
"You mean everything to me, Harlow," he whispered against my skin.
I hoped he realized that the same could be said for him. No matter what the future brought for us—no matter what Teddi would do, I would love them unconditionally.
“I love you,” I repeated on a whisper and he sighed into my hair, whispering the words back and bringing us full circle once again.
Chapter 10
I cracked my neck and sighed. "I still don't think it's quite right," I finally said.
Texas stood back and looked me up and down. "Yeah, I think you're right. We should've called Marv for this part."
"Should I take it off?" I asked.
Texas' reflection wiggled his eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, take it all off!"
Turning, I lightly slapped his stomach even as a smile bloomed on my lips. Even with the threat of Teddi hanging over us, the past few days had been calming. Knix had called the charity organizers and confirmed that invitations would arrive by the end of the week. All six of us were going and Texas—being Texas—wanted to get a jump on dress shopping. But three hours in, and I was too tired to keep it up.
I sighed and slid down to take a seat next to Texas. “Hey, we’re not done yet,” Texas chastised.
“I need a break,” I admitted. “Tell me something—how are things going with the PIs?”
Texas sobered. “I’ve managed to find most, if not all of them, and with Marv and Knix’s help, we’ve managed to bribe them into leaving us alone for now and not telling their original employer.”
“Do you think she knows?” I asked.
He contemplated the question, tilting his head back and staring up at the tiled ceiling of the department store dressing room. “If I’m being honest, probably,” he said. “She’s not a stupid woman by any means. If they’re no longer contacting her with reports, then she has to know by now.”
“It’s only been a week,” I reminded him.
He nodded. “I’m also working on digging up any dirt that might have escaped the media’s notice. If she’s as manipulative as she has proven herself to be, then there has to be something she’s hiding.”
“A reason why she wants Grayson and his inheritance specifically?”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “But so far, my search has turned up nada. I did find Grayson’s father though.”
“Mr. Caruso?” This was the first I’d heard about his dad. “Did you contact him? Tell him what’s going on?”
Texas shook his head. “No, but I gave the information to Grayson. If he wants to contact his father, let him. Otherwise, we can probably handle this on our own.”
I sighed and turned away, swinging my legs lightly as I considered my own thoughts. “And Alex?” I asked.
“Alex has been informed. Right now, things are at an awkward stage. There’s really no need to involve Iris,” Texas said, sounding a bit regretful.
“So, they’re not going to rush in and do anything about her.” I closed my eyes and released a frustrated breath. I wasn’t surprised, but honestly, I was getting kind of tired of taking care of things on our own. I mean, technically we were adults, but someone needed to step in and take care of someone like Teddi Vandersen-Caruso.
“Not unless something major happens,” Texas replied. He cupped a hand on my shoulder and I opened my eyes.
"I guess there’s nothing else to do for now then, except lunch,” I said, standing. I whirled on him and gestured for the exit. “Get out so I can change, I'm hungry.”
"Fine. Fine—slave driver," Texas teased as he strode out from behind th
e dressing room curtain. I let the scratchy tulle fabric of the dress I had been trying on fall down to my ankles and reached for my shirt. I had it halfway down my arms, covering my face when he popped his head back in.
"One more thing—" Texas started.
"Texas!" I squeaked and slipped, falling back against the dressing room wall. I struggled, trying to pull the shirt fabric completely over my head and cover my nakedness. I mean—most of the guys had seen me naked at this point and I'd already had sex with a few of them, but some sense of modesty attacked me and urged me to hurry and cover up.
Blushing hotly, I finally managed to yank the shirt down and pull it even further so that I was mostly covered. Thank God I had thought to wear panties that were full coverage instead of a thong. Texas stood with his back to the now closed curtain, his eyes on my bare legs. He didn't say anything.
"I told you I was changing!" I hissed, embarrassment sharpening my tone as a blush stole across my cheeks.
"I know," he said, but his eyes never left my legs. I shifted to the side, scooting along the wall until I came to my discarded pants. I reached down, but as soon as my fingers closed around the jeans, Texas seemed to be shaken from whatever had rooted him to the spot and he jumped forward, striding across the small dressing room and grabbing them from my hands, holding them between us.
"Sorry," he whispered.
I stared up at him. Even though he was the shortest of the guys, he was still taller than me by a few inches. His dark hair fell forward, his eyes penetrating me. "I-If you're really sorry," I stuttered, "then can I have my pants back?"
He looked down as though he hadn't realized that he'd taken them away from me. Texas handed them over without resistance and I held them over my hips, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say and leave so that I could dress in peace.
"Texas?"
Despite the fact that his expression was slack, his gaze was sharp, his eyes tight. "Are you scared of me, Harlow?" he asked.
I blinked, confused. "No?"
