Harper nodded again, barely holding back a whimper. It almost slipped out when she heard a zip lowering.
Cupping her ass, he angled her hips. “Soft and slow? Or hard and fast?”
Harper knew a trick question when she heard one. “Whatever you want.”
Knox’s mouth curved. “Clever girl.” He slammed home, and her scorching hot pussy clamped around him.
The breath exploded out of Harper’s lungs as his long, thick cock drove deep; filling her to bursting, stretching her until it stung, and touching parts that had never before him been touched. As always, the psychic fingers had made her pussy so hypersensitive that she was aware of every ridge and vein. She wrapped her legs tight around him and dug her heels into the base of his spine. “Fuck me.”
Knox powered into her at a merciless pace. Her pussy was so tight and wet that it drove him out of his mind. She drove him out of his mind. Her throaty little moans, the prick of her nails in his back, the scent of her need, the hot clasp of her inner muscles, and the taste of her in his mouth – all of it incited his senses. He thrust harder, faster. “My pussy.”
As the tension built inside her, Harper clawed at his back. He always reduced her to this needy, restless creature that needed to come so bad she shook with it. “Knox —”
“Don’t come yet.”
Oh, the bastard. And to make it that much harder, he moved her legs to the crook of his elbows and angled her so that his cock brushed her clit with every brutal thrust. It was absolute torture. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you, baby. Far from it.”
“I can’t hold back.”
“Yes, you can. You will.” He upped his pace, claiming her with every territorial slam of his cock. Her pussy fluttered around him. “Hold it,” he growled. She shook her head, but she didn’t come. “Hold it.” He rammed into her deeper, touching a spot that made her gasp. “Hold it.” She swore at him and scratched his back. He bit her lip. “Come.”
A blinding pleasure swept over and through Harper in a powerful wave. Her scream got caught in her throat as he brutally drove deep and his spine locked. Then he was growling her name, and she felt every hot splash of his come.
Shuddering, she blew out a long breath. All she could say was, “Damn, you’re good.”
He smiled against her neck.
Since demons could go for days without sleep, they spent a good portion of the night fucking and talking. After that, Knox did some work on his laptop while his mate lay beside him, watching TV. Before Harper, Knox had always preferred silence while he worked. Technically, she should have been a distraction. But there was just something about having his mate right there, where he could touch her whenever he wanted, that made him relax and focus better.
Of course, it was also a lot to do with the simple fact that his demon was better behaved when she was around. Harper charmed it, amused it, and delighted it. Without its only source of fulfillment close by, the demon became quickly bored and restless.
When breakfast time came around, the demon turned morose and sullen because it knew she’d be parting from them soon.
Harper smiled at Meg as the housekeeper placed a plate of food on the dining table in front of her. “Thank you.”
The Hispanic she-demon nodded with a fond smile.
Knox arched his brows in surprise. “Toasted bagel with cream cheese for breakfast?” he said as he dug into his own meal of egg white omelet with toast. His mate usually stuck to cereal.
Harper shrugged one shoulder. “Meg says I don’t have enough variety in my diet… which basically means you think I don’t have enough variety in my diet and you’ve expressed this to her.”
Yes, that was exactly what it meant, which was why Meg was doing her best to stifle an amused smile as she left the room. As always, his mate’s astuteness made his demon chuckle. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Harper said, picking up her bagel.
She looked better. The lines of strain were gone from her face. “Good.” He took a swig of his coffee. “Belinda left me another voicemail. You’ve been dodging her calls again?”
“She tried calling once,” said Harper, sighing. “I was in the bath.” But Harper hadn’t returned the call because, to be frank, the she-demon in question pissed her off. Knox had hired the event planner to manage the shindig, and she was good at her job. Efficient. Prompt. Incredibly well-organized. But she also looked down on Harper in a major way and felt the need to repeatedly advise her on her relationship with Knox.
She also liked to call attention to how different Harper was from the females in his past – different in that they were elegant, well-groomed, and cultured whereas Harper was… Harper. What Belinda wasn’t grasping was that Harper was absolutely fine with who she was. She had no wish to change. Moreover, Knox didn’t want her to change.
“She says you’re refusing to work with the clothes designer she set you up with,” Knox told her, mouth curved. He didn’t care whether Harper bought a dress or had it designed as long as she was happy.
“I don’t need someone to design and tailor-make a dress for me.” Harper especially didn’t want to work with that particular designer, who had rudely told Harper that it would be difficult to make her look elegant. “I can buy one like everyone else.” The real reason the cambion called Knox was that she’d use any excuse to get his attention. She often ran to him if Harper gave her an answer she didn’t like.