Harper's Rules 1 & 2

Chapter 45: Jake

I felt like the biggest asshole in the world when Harper left my car after our disaster of a date, a feeling that started when I watched her sleep. The image of her in my bed popped back into my mind while I watched as she walked up to her dorm's entrance doors. Her lashes fell against her cheeks, where her makeup was smudged enough that her light freckles peeked through. Her shoulder relaxed under my armpit, two warm, soft breasts pressed against my right side, and smooth, even breaths fanned over my chest.

My fingers twitched until I brushed a few strands of her hair off of where they stuck to the side of her neck and chest. While snuggle was the last word found in my vocabulary, I wouldn't have minded if we'd fallen asleep with her pressed up against me. The fact I knew she would've hated that, especially after I'd physically manipulated her into answering a few questions, settled in a giant pile of guilt and self-loathing in the center of my chest.

As the double doors closed behind Harper, one of my hands lifted. I absently rubbed my palm over my chest because that awful feeling stayed lodged right there.

I shouldn't have done... that. This.

Fuck, my brain is mush.

Given my distracted thoughts, I was surprised I hadn't wrecked my car on the drive back. Thankfully the late Thursday night traffic was pretty light. Based on the dirty look I got from a dog walker, I might've driven on a sidewalk at some point.

Yes, I'd come, twice, and Harper came loudly and violently enough that the whole house applauded my efforts after I returned from dropping her off. But I brushed off the back slaps, fist bumps, and stud-related compliments, headed straight upstairs, and sank down into my bed.

My teeth and fists clenched tighter the more times our 'date' replayed through my mind. I lost count of how many mistakes I'd made, starting from how I shouldn't have slept with her but did anyway and edged her physically until her mind relented into a conversation.

Fuck, more like an interrogation.

And I must be one sick fuck because that was some of the hottest sex I'd ever had.

I squeezed my eyes closed until tiny bursts of white erupted in the blackness. While I wouldn't have labeled myself with a self-degradation kink, the fire behind Harper's 'I hate you,' matched by the bright aqua color that burned in her irises, aroused me to a level I rarely reached.

Past that, the idea she'd let me come twice and hadn't...

Yeah, can't say I've had that bother me before. Not even with Harper.

While I'd always reciprocated giving physical pleasure to that girl, it was always out of an appreciation for what she'd done to me. Every other time I'd coaxed her orgasms out was motivated by how good I'd physically felt from her. Tonight though, I felt borderline enraged at the idea she needed our agreement twice this week but sat silent. At that emotion, my middle finger flinched and I inadvertently flicked her clit.

I hadn't expected her reactions but fuck, they were amazing.

My cock swelled up from where it hung between my thighs at the memory of her body, flushed pink, sweaty, and unsatisfied while I caged it under mine. In a complete contrast from Harper's hate-spewed words, her spine curved until her heart-shaped ass lifted up like she silently begged for more.

Tingles spread down my fingertips as they threaded over her folds, hot, swollen, and soaked. On each lightly snapped contact from my finger, her hips bucked, full lips parted in not just groans but cries for relief, and the amount of arousal that came out of her was unbelievable.

The full salute raised between my legs was the only evidence I needed for how affected I was just by the mental recap. I ignored my erection, cupped my forehead in my hands, and rounded my back forwards until my elbows rested on my knees.