Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

Harriet~Later in the evening, it starts raining. The silly rain starts like it’s actually testing the house. A few drops fall first.I’m in the middle of folding my clothes when the first thunder cracks so loud it rattles the window and makes my heart jump straight into my throat.“Fuck,” I mutter, pressing a hand to my chest. It does nothing to stabilize my wildly beating heart.I hate thunder. I always have. It’s stupid, irrational and embarrassing but it crawls under my skin and stays there. When we were younger, I used to pretend I wasn’t scared. Used to sit very still and very quiet and hope no one noticed how tightly my fingers were curled into my palms.Devon always noticed.Another boom rolls through the house, deeper this time also closer.I stand there for a second, debating with myself like an idiot. Go downstairs. Don’t go downstairs. You’re not a child. You don’t need him. You don’t need…The lights cut out.Fucking hell.The room drops into darkness so sudden it

Harriet ~My dream gradually dissolves and leaves behind just the physical evidence of it.I wake up with a gasp, but it’s not from fear at all. But from a lingering and potent ache from deep inside my body.My body feels like a stranger to me, thrumming with a deep, insistent need that has my clit pulsing in a frantic, demanding rhythm.And the physical evidence? It’s not a ghost of a feeling, but a real, a slick, hot reality between my thighs. I’m so wet I can feel it soaked through the thin fabric of my sleep shorts.Devon and I are tangled together, his entire body is pressed against me and his body feels like a furnace at my back. His arm is a heavy weight draped across my waist, his breath is warm and is released in steady puffs against my neck. Normally, this is my safe harbor. But tonight, it’s a prison of my own making, locking me in with the shameful and desperate throb of my own arousal. My breathing is ragged and I do my best to control it.My hand moves on its own, li

Harriet~Devon just grabs his car keys and walks towards the door. He doesn't say ‘let’s go’, he just jingles the keys like I am meant to be summoned by the sound of it.I follow anyway, because apparently I enjoy emotional whiplash before noon.Outside, the air is warm in that almost-Christmas way that makes no sense but still feels right, the sun is actually doing too much for December. Devon walks ahead of me, with his shoulders set and his jaw tight.He is the picture of a man who has already lost an argument he refuses to admit he’s having.He unlocks the car and doesn’t open my door this time like usual. I open it myself and slide in, watching his reflection in the window as he circles to the driver’s side. He gets in, starts the engine, adjusts the mirrors. All business-like.“So,” I say, buckling up. “What store are we going to first?”“Hardware,” he replies. “Then lumber.”“Exciting.”He shoots me a look. “Well you don’t have to come along anymore.”I smile sweetly just to

Harriet~I close my eyes unable to believe he is about to fuck me again.He kneels on the bed, settling between my legs, and I can feel the hard, heavy length of him against my thigh. He’s still wearing his control like a second skin, but I can see the strain in the set of his jaw. He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudges against my slick, swollen folds be he doesn’t push inside yet and just waits, letting me feel the weight of his intention, the sheer, undeniable presence of him."Look at me," he commands, his voice a low growl.I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. The raw, possessive hunger I see there steals my breath. "This is what you were going to look for," he says, and then he pushes inside.The stretch is an exquisite slow, burning sensation that has me arching my back. He sinks into me inch by inch, his eyes never leaving mine, until he’s buried to the hilt. He stills, letting me adjust, letting me feel the fullness of him and the rightness of it.

Harriet~I wake up warm.Not warm from the sunlight slipping through the curtain but the type from body heat that is unfamiliar and intimate enough that my first instinct is to stiffen.Then I open my eyes to see the situation.Devon’s arm is wrapped around my waist and his palm is resting flat against my stomach like it knows exactly where it belongs and it is there. His chest rises against my back with each breath.I try to think back for a bit.He wasn’t in bed when I fell asleep last night, I remember that clearly. I remember falling asleep to thoughts of both him and Sam waring in my mind. The bed was definitely empty and now here he is.I lie still, pretending I’m still asleep, trying to piece together what kind of game this is. Did I roll toward him in my sleep. Did he come in later and decide to climb into bed anyway. Did he mean to wake me like this.His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know that he’s aware of me now.So much for pret