Then, without warning his tongue presses flat against my center, making me cry out in pleasure. He makes small strokes with his tongue, and my hands grip the comforter on the bed. I wriggle underneath his skillful tongue and he wraps his arms tighter, holding me in place. I feel Hardin’s finger rubbing along with his tongue’s caresses and the burn begins to build in my stomach. I feel the cool metal of his lip ring, which adds a different texture and temperature to the sensation.
Without my permission, Hardin slowly slides a finger inside me, gently easing it in. I clench my eyes closed, waiting for the uncomfortable sting to go away.
“Are you okay?” He lifts his head up slightly, his plump lips glistening from me. I nod, unable to find the words, and he withdraws his finger slowly and slides it back in. It feels incredible in combination with his tongue. I groan and move a hand to his soft hair, threading my fingers through and tugging. His finger keeps entering me and drawing out slowly. Thunder booms throughout the house, echoing off the walls and all around, but I am too distracted to care.
“Hardin,” I moan as his tongue finds that overly sensitive spot and he gently sucks. I never knew that anything could feel this way, this good. My body is overtaken by sensation and pleasure, and I sneak a peak down at Hardin, who looks incredibly sexy between my legs, the hard muscles under his skin contracting as he pumps his finger in and out.
“Should I make you come this way?” he asks. I whimper at the loss of his tongue and nod frantically. He smirks and touches his tongue to me again, this time in flicking motions against that spot that I have come to love, literally.
“Oh, Hardin,” I breathe and he groans against me, sending the vibrations straight through my center. My legs stiffen, and I mutter his name repeatedly while I come undone. My vision blurs and I screw my eyes shut. Hardin holds me and flicks his tongue faster. I take one hand from his hair and cover my mouth with it, biting down to ensure I won’t scream. Seconds later, my head hits the pillow and my chest is heaving up and down as I try to catch my breath. My body is still tingling from the euphoric state I was just in.
I am barely aware of Hardin’s body moving up on the bed and lying next to me. He props himself on his elbow and brings his thumb up to caress my cheek. He lets me come back to reality before trying to make me speak.
“How was that?” he asks, his voice holding a hint of uncertainty as I roll my head to look at him.
“Mmm-hmm.” I nod and he chuckles. It was incredible, beyond incredible. Now I know why everyone does this type of stuff.
“That sedated, huh?” he teases. The pad of his thumb brushes my lower lip. I bring my tongue out to wet my lips, and it touches Hardin’s thumb.
“Thank you.” I smile shyly. I don’t know why I feel shy after what we just did, but I do. Hardin has seen me in my most vulnerable state, a state that no one else has, and that terrifies me as much as it excites me.
“I should have warned you before using my fingers. I tried to be gentle,” he says in apology.
I shake my head. “It’s okay, it felt good.” I blush.
He smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear. A small shiver runs down my spine, and Hardin’s brows lower. “Are you cold?” he asks and I nod. He surprises me by pulling the side of the comforter over and covering my almost naked body.
Bravery brings me to scoot closer to him. His eyes regard me carefully as I curl my body and lay my head against the hard surface of his stomach. His skin is colder than I expected, though the breeze is still floating through the room from the storm. I pull the sheets up and cover his chest, hiding my head underneath. He lifts them up, revealing my face, and I duck away from him, laughing lightly at our little game of hide-and-seek.
I wish I could just lay here with him for hours, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek. “How much longer until we have to go back downstairs?” I ask.
He shrugs. “We should probably go down now before they think we are fucking up here,” he jokes and we both laugh a little. I’m getting more and more used to his foul mouth, but it’s still a little shocking to hear him say those words so casually. The thing that shocks me the most is the way my skin tingles when he says them.
I groan and climb out of bed. I feel Hardin’s eyes on me as I bend down to retrieve my clothes. I toss him his shirt and he pulls it over his head, then ruffles his messy hair. I step into my panties and shimmy them on under his gaze. The tights are next and I almost trip over them as I step into them.
“Stop watching me; it’s making me nervous,” I tell him, and he smiles, his dimples as prominent as ever.
His hands slide into his pocket and he looks up at the ceiling. I giggle and finally get the tights up.
“Can you zip my dress once I get it on?” I ask him. His eyes scan my body and I can see his pupils dilate from three feet away. I glance down and I see why. My breasts are spilling out of my bra and the lace tights hang just above my hips; I suddenly feel like a pinup girl.
“Y-yeah. I. Will help,” he says, gulping. It is astounding that someone as handsome—well, as sexy—as Hardin would be as affected by me as he is. I know I’m considered attractive, but I am nothing like the girls he usually messes with. I have no tattoos, no piercings, and I dress conservatively.
I put the dress on and turn away from him, exposing my back to him, waiting for him to zip it up. I lift my hair up and hold it above my head. His finger grazes along my spine, skipping over my bra strap before he zips the dress. I shiver and lean back against him. I purposely push my behind against him and hear him suck in a breath. His hands move down to my hips and he squeezes gently. I feel him hardening against me, sending electricity through me for what feels like the hundredth time today.
“Hardin?” Karen’s voice calls from the hall as a delicate tapping hits the door, and I become extremely thankful we’re both dressed.
Hardin rolls his eyes and brings his lips to my ear. “Later,” he promises and walks to the door. He switches on the light before opening it, revealing Karen.
“I am so sorry for intruding, but I made some desserts as well, and thought maybe you two would like some?” she offers sweetly. Hardin doesn’t answer her but he looks back at me, waiting for my reply.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” I say with a smile and she grins back.
“Great! I will see you downstairs,” she tells us and turns to walk away.
“I’ve already had my dessert,” Hardin says mischievously, and I swat his arm.
Chapter forty-nine
Karen has made lots of sweets for us to eat. I eat a few while she and I discuss her love for baking. Landon doesn’t join us in the dining room but it doesn’t seem to cause any suspicion. I look over to where he just sits on the couch with his book on his lap and remind myself that I need to make sure I talk to him soon. I don’t want to lose his friendship.
“I love baking as well, I am just no good at it,” I tell Karen, and she laughs.
“I would love to teach you,” she says. Hope is evident in her brown eyes and I nod.
“That would be great.” I don’t have the heart to say no. I feel for her; she is really trying to make an effort to get to know me. She believes me to be Hardin’s girlfriend and I can’t tell her otherwise. Hardin has made no move to tell her or his father, either, which gives me a swell of hope. I wish this night was how my life could always be, enjoying spending time with Hardin, his eyes constantly meeting mine as I converse with his father and future stepmother. He is being nice, for the last hour at least, and his thumb rubs over my knuckles in a gentle gesture that gives me a constant string of butterflies. The rain continues to pour outside and the wind howls.
After we finish the desserts, Hardin gets up from the table. I look at him questionably and he leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Be right back, just going to the loo,” he says, and I watch him disappear down the hall.
“We both cannot thank you enough. It is so wonderful having Hardin here, even if it’s only one dinner,” Karen says and Ken takes her hand above the table.
She’s right. It is wonderful, as his father, to see my only son in love. I had always worried he wouldn’t be capable . . . he was an . . . angry child,” Ken mutters and looks at me. He must notice how I shift uncomfortably in my seat, because he follows up with “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, we just love to see him happy.”
Happy? Love? I choke on my breath and break into a heap of coughs; the cool water in my glass slides down my throat, calming it, and I look back at them. They think Hardin is in love with me? It would be incredibly rude to laugh at them, but he obviously doesn’t know his son.
Before I can respond, Hardin returns and I thank the heavens that I didn’t have to respond to their sweet, but false, assumptions. Hardin doesn’t sit down, but rather stands behind me with his hands on the back of the chair.
“We really should get going. I have to take Tessa back to the dorms,” he says.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You two should stay tonight. It’s storming outside and we have plenty of room. Right, Ken?”
Hardin’s father nods. “Of course, you’re both welcome to stay.”
Hardin looks at me. I want to stay. To extend my time with Hardin in what feels like a world away from the world, especially when he is in such a good mood.
“I don’t mind,” I answer. But I don’t want to upset him by wanting to stay here any longer. His eyes are unreadable, but he doesn’t seem to be angry.
“Great! Then it’s settled. I’ll show Tessa to a room . . . unless you’ll be staying with Hardin in his?” she asks. There is no judgment behind her voice, only kindness.
“No, I’d like my own room, please. If that’s okay?”
Hardin glares at me.