Blackthorn Elite: The Entire Series

by Beck, J. L.

  “You don’t mean that. You’re just vulnerable and scared right now. Go to sleep.”

  “I mean it…” She whispers, and I tuck her in a little closer to my chest.

  “Okay, let’s talk about it in the morning,” I say softly. It’s the softest I’ve spoken to her in years. With Harper in my arms, my heart can finally ease to a normal rhythm, and when I close my eyes, sleep easily finds me. At least for tonight, I’ll pretend like the woman I’ve loved since I was a kid is mine.

  * * *

  When I wake up, Harper is no longer curled up next to me. She’s now sprawled out on top of me like I’m the mattress. With her head on my chest, her small body blankets mine, and I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling so content.

  I lean down and kiss the top of her head, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo. Her breath fans out against my skin evenly, and her eyes remain closed. I could watch her sleep like this all day, and I might. There is something so peaceful about having her here with me.

  As I lie here, my eyes glued to the woman on top of me, I wonder if I could ever forgive her. Until now, the thought seemed outrageous. How could I ever forget what she did? But in the last twelve hours, I’ve realized like never before, how much of a hold she still has on me.

  Will I ever be done with her? I don’t think so, and if that’s the case, what is our future going to look like if I don’t forgive her?

  My thoughts are interrupted when she stirs. Her body rubs against me like a kitten, her leg skimming over my already hardened cock. I’ve been hard for hours, aching with need, by watching her sleep. It gave me more satisfaction than anything else has before.

  Opening her hazel eyes, she lifts her head from my chest and looks up at me. Then she lowers her head again, turning it so I can’t see her expression. She buries her face back into my chest. Like it could save her from me.

  “You regret what you asked me last night?”

  “No, I do want to stay here.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “I need to hear you say it out loud.”

  She lifts her head again, and this time she stares me straight in the eyes. “Because it doesn’t matter how much you act like a monster, or how badly you treat me. I still want you. And even though you’ve done a lot of shit to me, I still feel safe with you, and I know how fucked up that is. So, you don’t have to rub it in my face. But it doesn’t change anything. I want you, no matter what. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “Yes,” I shamelessly admit. “I like you weak for me, and I like knowing that you need me. It makes me feel…”

  “Powerful. Like a king?” Harper answers before I can finish.

  “Yes, but it makes me feel useful too. Like I have meaning to my life.” I don’t know why I’m confessing this to her. It doesn’t change anything… but maybe it can. Maybe we can move on. A newfound excitement bursts through me. It won’t be easy, not at all, but maybe I can put the past behind us. Maybe I can have Harper.

  Harper makes a sour face at me, “What kind of meaning? Like the one you had with that girl in the hallway yesterday?”

  I clench my jaw, of course, she’s bringing that up. Then again, this is kind of my fault. My intention was for her to see me with another chick, and for her to assume that she wasn’t the only one I was getting ass from, but I’m not going to lie. Letting Bridget paw at me, letting her think she even had a chance, it made me sick to my stomach.

  “That’s sounding a lot like jealousy, baby.”

  “I’m not jealous,” she lifts her chin, fire dancing in her eyes. “It’s just after your big, I’m yours, speech, I was surprised to see you with someone else.”

  “I told you that you are mine, not that I am yours.” As soon as I say the words, I regret them. The pain in her face is so much of a reminder of my own that I can’t stand it. Desperate to wipe that agony from her face, I continue, “You are cute when you are jealous though, and don’t worry, you’re the only one I’m fucking.”

  Shoving away from me, she winces, and I don’t know if it’s her knees and palms that are hurting her or my words. She grabs the blanket and pulls it to her chest covering her body, “You can say all you want that you don’t care about me, that I don’t mean anything to you, but you proved to me last night that I matter.”

  “How is that?” I tilt my head to the side and let my eyes roam over her. I want to peel that blanket back and kiss every inch of her silky-smooth skin.

  “You saved me from James. You beat his ass, brought me back here, and took care of me. If that isn’t compassion, then I don’t know what is.” She stares at me triumphantly, and she’s right. I do care about her. I care about her too much, and that’s the fucking problem here.

  “James fucked with something that belongs to me, so he got his ass handed to him. Maybe I just wanted to make sure that my fuck doll was kept in one piece?” I lie through my teeth.

  Harper rolls her eyes, seeing right through my deception, “Right, is that why you still haven’t made a move to try and fuck me yet?”

  “No matter what. You’re mine, Harper. Mine.”

  “Why do you want me to be yours so badly?” Her question catches me off guard. Of course, deep down, I already know the answer. The thing is, I don’t want to admit it. Not to her or to myself.

  “Maybe I do care about you… but I don’t know what that means yet. I don’t know if there will ever be an us again. I’ll let you stay here with me, but I expect something out of the deal.” I want to fuck her, rut into her like an animal, but I need to be gentle with her, at least right now. “Something tells me you won’t have a problem giving it to me either.”

  Reaching for the blanket, I give it a tug, and unsurprisingly, she lets it go without a fight. Her cheeks turn a soft crimson, and her lips part, that pink tongue of hers darting out over her bottom lip.

  “I want you,” I purr softly.

  “Like you wanted that other girl?” she whispers, and I feel the pain of her admission deep in my chest. I know confessing that I did it to make her jealous might make me weak, but after last night, the last thing I care about is letting her think I wanted someone else. The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about her.

  “The only one I want is you,” I reply, moving closer to her.

  She blinks, her pupils dilate, and she moves a little closer, seeking out the comfort of my body. Reaching for her, I hold her close and press soft kisses against her skin, her forehead, cheeks, and then down her chest. I want to worship the very ground she walks on. I want what we could’ve had, should’ve had, so badly, that I’m willing to forgive, but can I truly forget?

  “Lie on your back. I want to remind you why you’re mine, and that even though I’m a monster and beast, I can still use these same fingers and tongue that give you pain, to bring you pleasure.” She doesn’t fight me as I press a gentle hand to her chest. Instead, she falls back against the sheets and looks up at me.

  Looking into her eyes, the entire world around us fades away. I forget about all my troubles, sorrows, and pain. There is just us, and nothing else. With a feverish, but tender need, I pepper kisses down the length of her body, moving until I reach her mound.

  With a hand, I spread her legs, and they fall open, exposing her pretty pussy to me. Her folds are already glistening with arousal, and I swallow the groan down that was forming in my throat. My mouth waters, and it’s like no matter how much I try and satiate my appetite for her, I can never get enough. I’m always hungry, always ready for more. No one and nothing else will ever satisfy my need like Harper does.

  Falling to my stomach, I slide my hands under her ass and bring her pussy to my face.

  “Warren,” she squeals, and I smile joyfully. It reminds me of all the times when we were kids, and I would do whatever I could to make her smile and laugh.

  “Let me feast,” I growl and dive into her pussy like it’s an Olympic pool. I show no mercy when it comes to curbing my needs.
I lick and taste her like it’s my last time. Like I’ll never be given another chance.

  Her hands move into my hair, tugging on the strands, each tug sends a pulse of red-hot pleasure straight to my cock. Licking her from top to bottom, I pay special attention to her clit as I bury my face between her folds. I suck and nibble on the diamond-hard bud, before dipping my tongue inside her tight entrance. She starts to grind her pussy against my face, and I let her, licking her right where she needs me most, in her warm, pink, center.

  When she starts to wither against the sheets, I know she’s close.

  “Mmmm…” I growl into her folds and pinch her clit between my teeth. I do this a couple more times, and I’m rewarded with a deep throaty moan. A few seconds later, she explodes, her release gushing into my mouth. I lap every sweet drop up before pulling away, then I sit up, spread her thighs real wide, and drag the head of my cock to her entrance.

  “You’re on birth control, right?”

  “Yes, I told you the other day,” she says, her tone needy.

  “Good, ’cause I’m about to blow a fat load in you.” I’m tempted to slam into her but instead ease in, watching as her eyes roll to the back of her head with pleasure, her tight little pussy still convulses around my cock, barely allowing me entrance.

  “Mine,” I growl as I possessively move in and out of her. My hands grip onto her hips, holding her in place, but no matter how much I tell myself to be gentle in touching her, I can’t. I need to make sure she knows she’s mine, that if anyone fucks with her, they’re fucking with me. “You have always belonged with me,” I hiss, pumping in and out of her. She mewls, her pink lips part, and she gasps as I swivel my hips, my cock grazing her g-spot.

  I can’t get enough of her, and it’s like no matter how badly the downfall will be, no matter how much it’s going to hurt when it all falls apart, I’ll go through the pain even for a tiny slice of heaven.

  “I’m…I’m coming…” Harper whimpers, her big hazel eyes pierce mine, and when we’re like this, I can feel how vulnerable and fragile she is, and if I had my way, I’d have her like this forever, but I can’t.

  Wanting to feel closer to her and be deeper inside her, I pick her up and haul her to my chest. The movement sends her over the edge, and as she falls apart in my arms, I thrust upward, her tight channel squeezing my own release from my balls. Without warning, I start coming, filling her with my sticky release.

  Chest to chest, I can feel our pulses matching in beat. Hearts slamming against hearts. I want this forever with her, but again I’m reminded of our past. Forgive, but forget? I don’t know. I don’t know if I can let the pain of her betrayal go. Deep down, I know I still love her. I know she is it for me, but…

  Staring at each other, our eyes locked together, her arms wrapped around my neck. Nothing in this world could ruin this moment, nothing. Then a knock sounds against the door, and for a moment, I think I’m hearing things.

  The doorknob jiggles, and I don’t know what to think, or even do.

  “Open the door, son,” my father’s stern voice filters through the door. What the hell is he doing here? I blink the confusion from my eyes and watch in horror as Harper scurries off my lap. She grabs the blanket and wraps it around herself as if that’s going to make her disappear from the room. She looks like she might throw up, and that’s not surprising; my father has that impact on people. I contemplate telling her to go hide in the bathroom but decide against it. I don’t care what my father has to say. Most likely, he won’t even remember her.

  Moving off the bed, I pull on a pair of shorts from the floor and walk over to the door. I give Harper one last look before I undo the lock and open the door.

  35

  Harper

  I still can’t believe I asked him to let me stay here. He was right, last night I was just scared and vulnerable. I would have said anything to make myself feel even a little safe. But the truth is, I really do want to stay here and not just because I’m scared. I want him, I want him like I’ve always wanted him. Seeing how Warren took care of me last night and how he treated me this morning... I think he still wants me too. The only thing standing in our way now is whatever he thinks I did all those years ago. Staring into each other’s eyes, I don’t think the moment can get any better. I want to tell him that whatever he thinks I did, I didn’t do but a knock sounds against the door, followed by a deep voice.

  “Open the door, son.” It takes me a moment to digest what is happening and who is on the other side of that door, but when I do, I scurry off of Warren’s lap and wrap myself up in the blanket. His father is here. I think I’m going to puke. That man has always given me the creeps. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a smile on his face.

  Moving slowly, Warren gets up from the bed and pulls on a pair of shorts. He takes his time getting to the door and gives me a sympathetic look as he opens it. Readying myself, I’m fully prepared to jump up, put my clothes on, and run out of the room, but that would mean walking right past his father, and no way am I doing that right now.

  Luckily, Warren steps into the doorway, shielding most of his father’s view of me. In fact, he moves into the hall, closing the door almost completely behind him.

  “Who is the girl?” is the first thing his father asks.

  “No one, now what the hell do you want?” Warren goes on the defensive, and my stomach twists into an angry knot.

  “You think you’re a big man now? Need I remind you who bought this house, your car, and pays your tuition? Talk to me like I’m your father and not one of your damn friends.”

  There is a brief pause and then Warren speaks again, “What do you want, Dad?” This time, when he replies, he sounds bored rather than angry.

  “Who is the girl?” There is a darkness in his father’s voice, and I feel it in my soul. It slithers over my skin, my arms, and chest, wrapping around my throat like a snake.

  “I already told you, no one.”

  Does his father make a habit of doing this with all the girls Warren sleeps with?

  “Let’s see,” he says in a condescending tone. In a flash, the door is shoved open, and Warren’s father’s eyes collide with mine. “She is a no one all right. I thought you’d know better than to mess around with that whore again.”

  Whore? Anger pulses through my veins, and I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the coppery tang of blood.

  Warren stares at me with sorrow in his eyes before grabbing the door and pulling it closed. In an instant, I’m left alone with my thoughts again. Footsteps sound against the wooden floor, moving away from the bedroom. Part of me wants to get up and listen, but part of me doesn’t. I don’t want to hear what his father has to say about me. I know I’m not a whore. I’ve only ever been with Warren, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to know what he’s saying about me.

  As I sit there wrapped in the blanket, I start to shiver. Even though I’m engulfed in warmth, I still feel cold, so cold. Why does Warren’s father think so shitty of me? Is it because we come from different classes? Because he is rich and I’m poor? Is it because my parents used to work for him before he rudely fired them?

  All these questions burn through me, stoking the angry fire in my chest. As I wait for Warren to return, I go to his dresser and find something of his I can wear. Careful not to rip any of the bandages Warren put on me, I slip into a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, which I have to roll to keep from falling down. Finally dressed, I feel much better, and a little less vulnerable. When Warren finally comes back into the room, he looks pissed, and I’m not sure if his anger is directed at his father or me.

  “I’m sorry about him,” he mutters, shoving a frustrated hand through his hair. “He shouldn’t have called you that.”

  “I don’t care what he says or thinks about me,” I give him the honest truth. There is something else that affected me much more than being called a whore. Going on the defense isn’t going to help me, I know this, but I’m still burning mad. “Yo
u told him I was no one to you.”

  Warren’s face falls, “I don’t want my father to know who I care about. He’ll just use it against me.” His tone is already a little calmer as he sits down next to me on the bed. Reaching for my hand, he covers my cold one with his much larger, warm one.

  “Why did your father call me a whore?” I ask. Even though I’m not hurt by it, I’m still curious. As if my touch has suddenly burned him, he pulls away.

  “Let’s not talk about that today,” he snaps. I sigh in frustration, but let it go because I really don’t have the energy to fight with him right now.

  “Can we just crawl back into bed and sleep all day?”

  “I don’t know if there will be a lot of sleeping if I crawl back in that bed with you,” he smirks, and I’m glad I didn’t push the question. “How about I cook us something, and we can be lazy and lounge on the couch all day?”

  My eyes light up, “Yes, let’s do that.”

  Warren makes good on making us some food. He pops two pizzas in the oven while I try and find something to watch on TV. It’s been a while since I watched anything, between school and the fact that we could never afford it growing up, I don’t really know what’s decent to watch. Tossing the remote down, I all but jump out of my skin when the front door opens, and Warren’s roommates come stomping into the house.

  “Is that pussy or pizza I smell?” Cameron chuckles.

  “It’s going to be a broken nose, and a busted lip you’ll smell if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Warren growls as he appears in the living room.

  Easton laughs, and walks into the living room, with Cameron trailing not far behind.