But then I ease down and he fills me up beyond capacity, stretching me. I gasp as the pain threatens to overtake me, but James cups my face again and tilts my chin so I have to look at him. “Slow, baby. No hurry. Go slow. Enjoy me. Enjoy how I feel inside you.”
I swallow hard and lift up a little. Feeling his slick cock slide against my skin. I lower just a little bit, stop when it hurts, and rise up again. I do this over and over again, and with each time, James groans. “You feel so good,” he assures me. “You’re so tight,” he whispers in my ear. “Try to go a little farther now, baby. I’m dying to be inside you. All the way inside you.”
My body responds to his requests like they’re an order. I want this too. I want him inside me more than anything I’ve ever wanted before. I let him sink deeper into me, biting back the shock of pain and the gasp that wants to escape. I bury my head in his neck and pant hard. His hands go to my ass, urging me to move the way he wants me to. I give in to him.
I am his.
He lifts me up, almost to the point that his dick is threatening to escape my pussy. But then he slams me down on his lap and the pain shoots straight up my spine. It threatens to overtake me when I feel his fingers playing with my ass. They press against the tight muscles and I gasp, the pain from my disintegrating hymen forgotten as he explores me in a new way.
I moan into his neck, the new sensations almost too much. “Can I come, James? I want to come so bad. I want to come on your dick.”
“This is all about you, baby. If my cock inside your pussy feels good to you, then come all over me, Harper.”
My name on his lips sends me over the edge. My body arches as I throw my head back and moan out his name. “James…”
As soon as the contractions begin to slow, James wraps his arms around me and lies back on the bed, pulling me tightly to his chest. His hips begin a punishing rhythm underneath me, thrusting himself deeper and deeper inside me, his balls smacking against my ass so hard, reminding me of his fingers a few minutes ago.
We come together this time. We explode into an orgasm that makes me blind and helpless to think of anything but this perfect man beneath me.
Chapter Thirteen
HARPER
He scoots up towards the head of the bed, keeping himself inside me as we move together. He collapses back on the pillow and hugs me close. “Harper, God, I can’t believe we’re here.”
I scrunch my face up as I ponder that question. “What do you mean?”
He rolls, removing his cock from me, and then flips me around and pulls my ass up to his hips. “Sleep,” he says. “We’ll finish this in the morning.”
I frown as I lie here. Running all this back in my mind. His sudden appearance on the pier. The way he dove in after me. I guess it makes sense that he fingered me for the missing girl. But then… if he’s really Number Six, he would’ve called this in immediately. If he knew who I was, then he’s asking for a death sentence by not calling it in.
“Sleep, Harper,” he says with a little more authority. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” I wiggle out of his grip and get up. “Where—”
“The bathroom,” I say back defensively. I suppose it’s a bad time to actually start using my head. I mean, I just gave him my virginity. The Admiral will go ballistic. And if James is Number Six, then he knows this. Maybe he’s on the run too? Maybe he’s my father’s enemy?
I close the bathroom door and start the shower. I feel dirty all of a sudden. It felt good, hell yes, it felt good. But now that my need has been satiated and my mind is clearing—I have questions. I have a lot of questions.
Like… how long has he been watching me? He hinted at months. Months? That makes very little sense, really. He said he killed his brother, Number Five, and they needed him to take some downtime. Evaluate him. I can see that. You don’t kill another Company assassin with no consequences. And you certainly don’t kill your brother.
I would kill to have my brother right now. I’d do just about anything to have my brother.
I start the hot water and watch my naked self in the mirror as I wait for it to warm up.
Why am I still here? In this apartment? In this town? On land? Is it really possible that the Admiral has no idea where I’m at? I mean, I was careful when I left. I poisoned the entire ship. They were sick as dogs, even the captain, so we were dead in the water about sixty miles south of Tahiti. I might even have killed some of them. I have no idea, because our ship has a very nice tender boat. One of the nicest in the world, just like the super yacht that carries it. And since my entire life, from birth to that moment when I opened the garage door and lowered the tender out onto the sea, was spent sailing the oceans of the world on these massive yachts, driving it straight to the port all by myself was not at all difficult.
We’ve been to Tahiti lots of times. So many times I was recognized. And welcomed. Of course, I’ve never showed up alone before, but this was the day after my birthday, I told them with genuine excitement. The adrenaline coursing through my blood was making me jittery, but the local customs agent took it as nerves from being on my own for the first time.
I got everything in order at the dock, paid the fee. And took a cab straight to Faa'a International where I boarded a plane to Hawaii. I stepped off that plane Harper Tate and boarded the next one as Jillian Stewart. And when I landed in Los Angeles I was free.
I had one backpack, but it contained a key. A key my brother gave me the day before our eighteenth birthday. I have no idea how he got a hold of it, but I didn’t ask. Because that was our last day together and I was still in denial that he would leave without me.
It’s not like he had a choice. They took him. But he left behind the key.
There was an address and a number engraved on it. I took a cab to the UCLA Library, rode the elevator up to the fifth-floor quarter lockers. And found my future.
Thirty thousand dollars. A phone number. A phone. A flash drive in the shape of a fish. And a bottle of Ativan, with a warning on the outside from Nick not to take them unless it was absolutely necessary. It took us six months to wean me off them. It was a long process and even now, after being mostly clean for almost a year, I still run to the pills when things get overwhelming.
And then I took my money, called the number, took a cab to the address, paid the rent in full for one year, and sat down in that solitary chair in the living room and waited.
It took me weeks to settle in. I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went. I imagined my life if I had stayed one more day. Married off to some old man.
That’s what my father was planning. It was no secret that Nick and I would be separated on our eighteenth birthday, but they kept this little marriage deal quiet until I was sixteen. Then ever so slowly, hints would be dropped. Oh, Harper, you will make some lucky man very happy when you turn eighteen. Hints like that was how it started. But by the time I was seventeen they were overt. Which dress do you like for your wedding, Harper? the shoppers in port would ask me.
But I am quiet. I don’t interrupt. And I pick and choose my battles. There is no point in fighting until I can win the war.
Have I won? I have a beautiful assassin in my bed. I’m still free. He didn’t kill me—he fucked me. I’m falling for him. He makes me feel safe. I want to be next to him. Even now, I want him.
But maybe he’s just as good at picking battles as I am?
There’s a small knock at the door. “Harper,” James says quietly. “Everything OK?” he doesn’t wait for my answer, just turns the handle and opens the door. I smile at him. I can’t help it, he’s so damn beautiful. “Shower?” he asks, nodding his head in the direction of the steaming hot water spraying down in the tub.