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“I never realized how much I lean on my arms until now,” Harper sounded annoyed.
“I’m sorry baby,” Pietr crooned. He pressed into her from behind at the kitchen counter where she was putting finishing touches on their dinner plates. He pressed a kiss to her neck. “They’re healing well though. Another week or so and you can go back to normal.”
“You can either keep kissing me or we can go eat dinner, but we can’t do both,” Harper chided.
“I like kissing.” His lips grazed her ear.
“I like hot food,” Harper retorted.
He hummed, giving her a little squeeze before backing off. “All right, we eat dinner. Then, can we go to bed?”
“It’s only like six o’clock.”
“I have been away. I missed you. I had to share you before I left.” He pouted, which looked ridiculous with his beard.
“It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She patted his cheek. “Take your plate. What do you want to drink?”
They settled at the kitchen island, as was their habit when it was just the two of them. Pietr asked more about the Flash Party. Harper inquired as to what the team had gotten up to while on the road. Once they’d caught each other up on their time apart, they’d finished eating. Pietr picked up their dishes, dutifully loading them into the dishwasher. When he came back, he picked her up from her stool and threw her over his shoulder.
“You have got to stop carting me around like a sack of potatoes, sir!” Harper gave him a light smack to the ass. “I am perfectly capable of walking.”
“Calling me sir? Is that like calling Misha Daddy?” he asked.
“No, but it could be,” Harper offered. “I only call Misha Daddy when I’m teasing him. He gets this primal expression on his face that’s hot.”
“I don’t have that?” He pushed open the bedroom door, then kicked it shut behind them. He dumped her onto the bed, getting on top of her. He dove right into pushing her shirt up over her stomach, pressing a line of kisses over her belly, up under her breasts. “Ooh, no bra or binder?”
“I haven’t been wearing my binder lately,” Harper said. “I wasn’t going anywhere today that warranted bothering with a bra.”
“Nothing ever warrants it. I like the access.” He leaned back, letting his hands move under the fabric to squeeze the soft mounds. “You didn’t answer. I don’t have a primal face you like?”
“You’re more growly when you’re turned on,” she said.
He demonstrated his growl, leaning forward again to find her lips.
“Yeah, like that.” She grinned.
“I missed you.” He braced himself on his arms above her. “I don’t know where to start. I want all of you.”
“I missed you too.” She wound her arms around his neck and tugged at the ends of his hair. A tingle ran down his neck and across his shoulders. “Why don’t we start with kissing. That’s always nice.”
He hummed in agreement before catching her lips again. The problem with kissing was that it wasn’t ever enough. Kissing meant that, very soon, his hands wanted to wander. Or, given their position, Harper’s hands had the space to wander. Under his t-shirt to rove over his chest and his back. To squeeze his ass, and draw him closer, grinding his pelvis against hers. To the fly of his jeans, popping open the button and letting the zipper slowly spread as her hand slipped inside to stroke the front of his boxers.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, pushing into her hand, “hold on.” He backed off to yank his shirt over his head and strip off his jeans. He paused, thumbs hooked into the waistband of the boxers, staring at Harper who hadn’t moved. “Hey, you too.”
Harper laughed, sitting up. She stripped off her own shirt, then stood to wriggle out of her leggings and boy shorts.
“Much better,” he crooned. He beckoned toward the pillows. “Come on.” He coaxed her into the middle of the bed before climbing over her to stretch out beside her. He couldn’t pinpoint why but being on Harper’s right side just seemed more natural. Beside her, rather than over top of her, he could let his hands rove a bit too. He was careful of her arms; the new tattoos were just entering their peeling stage and felt rough to the touch. It wasn’t that they hurt, but they did look dry. Harper drew a leg over his thighs, giving him the chance to wrap an arm around her, palming a handful of her backside and hiking her closer still as he kissed her again.
“Pietr.” Harper’s voice was soft and breathy.
He hummed in response, not wanting to stop touching. Her hand went from his hip to his stomach, turning to move between them and wrap around his cock. He inhaled slightly; her hands were warm and felt good.
“Can I...” She squeezed slightly, stroking upward, “can I suck it?”
“You don’t have to ask,” he teased. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“You tell me it’s dangerous to say that,” she chided.
“That’s because I want to do very dirty, maybe a little dangerous, things to you. Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Most of the time.”
“Like what?”
He grunted, loosening his hold on her and shifting onto his back. Harper slipped down his body. The long bit of her hair brushed his skin as she bent over his half-hard cock. She waited for a response though, using only her fingers to stroke him.
“That time, you asked me to let go. Stop holding back,” he reminded her. “Like that. But harder. Really make you feel how much I want you. Constantly. Like I’m starving for you and can never be satiated. My body is incapable of it.”
Harper’s cheeks went a little pink. To avoid saying anymore, she finally took him into her mouth. He relaxed, curling an arm under his head to watch her head bob over him.
Oral was one of those skills that Pietr had realized early on made her hesitant. If he asked, she did it and tried her best. Enthusiastically, which helped. It was becoming a fun surprise for her to ask or do it without prompting. He was always content to let her do what felt natural and offer gentle correction or suggestion. He was never in a rush, until he was. Watching her press kisses up this shaft before licking the head of his cock like a lollipop was a huge turn-on. One of the many things Harper did, almost innocuously that made him want to flip her over and fuck her into the mattress.
He cursed in Russian under his breath, moving his arm over his eyes. Cutting off a sense let him focus on the feeling. The wetness of her tongue. The dry warmth of her hand. The way his foreskin pulled back to better expose the head of his cock. The sound of her little moans of enjoyment and the way her lips smacked with the wetness of her saliva.
“Pietr?” She adjusted, sitting up straighter. Her hand continued stroking.
“Da?”
“Is this okay? You’re quiet.”
He chuckled. “Is perfect. Feels really good, babe.”
“Are you close?”
“Not really. You’re teasing me more right now,” he pointed out. “Take your time. Enjoy it. I am.”
Harper let out a soft laugh and he felt her mouth again. She moved her hands away, splaying her fingers across his thighs. He let her keep going, trying to be a little more vocal with his pleasure. Telling her how good she was. And she was. He’d never considered ranking blowjobs, but he certainly knew what a bad one was, and Harper had yet to disappoint. Even at her most timid.
“Oh fuck—” He felt the build up finally as Harper began stroking his balls along with his cock. “If you want to keep going, you’d better take a break, Harper darling.”
“Will you fuck me?”
He peeked at her, a smile tugging at his mouth. “I love when you ask.”
“Hard?” She continued. “A little, maybe a lot rough?”
“A lot?” He repeated.
“Hold me down from behind,” she requested. “Hard and fast. Umm...”
He repeated the noise, even though he had a good idea what it was she hesitating to ask for. And he wanted, very deep down in that core primal part of his brain, to deliver.
“Use me.”
That was all he needed to hear. “Usual safe word.” He sat up, not waiting for a response before he did just as he’d wanted before. Pushed her face down onto the mattress, getting a laugh from her in his obvious excitement. He hiked up her hips and spread her thighs, just enough to angle his cock inside—
“Oh yes, fuck,” Harper gasped.
He pushed down at the top of her back, holding her down as he thrust. He had to adjust a few times, pulling her hips higher for better entry. She was wet (of course she was), making it that much easier to rock into her with short fast strokes. She tightened around him, not able to keep up with his rhythm. Just a tight, wet hole for his cock. He leaned back far enough, just once, to smack her ass three times in quick succession. She squeaked, jerking and tightening more each time. He grabbed her hips, thrusting her over him. Harder. Shorter. Faster. Until his cock tightened, twitching, deep inside and he let out a deep moan as he unloaded.
Another string of curses, both in Russian and English. He thrust a few more times, much more gently. Longer, slower, as he leaned down, kissing the back of her shoulders. Harper panted beneath him, still squeezing him inside her.
“You want more,” he guessed. He wrapped her hair around his fist; it was definitely getting long now. He jerked, almost a little too hard he thought, making her sit up. Her head tipped back to look up at him.
“It felt good, but I didn’t—”
“I know. I can solve that.” He loosened his grip, giving her head a little soothing rub. He kissed her neck before he backed away, making her groan again. He nudged her over, onto her back. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and buried his face into her pussy. She made more sounds, little and big of pleasure. Her hips shook and her thighs twitched, but he still didn’t quite hear that favorite sound.
“You’re being difficult,” he chided. “Do I need to take out some toys?”
“No.” She quaked again. “There have been little—ahh, ones if you want to stop.”
“Fuck no,” he snorted. “Not until I hear a big one. Really fucking big one.” He let her drop back down to the mattress so he could move, grabbing a pillow to shove under her hips. Then he doubled down, stroking two fingers inside while his tongue and lips focused on licking and suck at her clit. Harper reached down, fingers griping his hair and tugging lightly. The more concentrated effort finally brought a wet, bubbling orgasm forward with the high pitched moan that made him happy and told him he was doing a good job. Even if Harper had a hard time vocalizing her pleasure with actual words.
He kept going, bringing out another small one at the end of the wave until she pushed the top of his head and tensed, over stimulated.
“Oh stop, please—no really. Fuck, lilac.”
He laughed, finally lifting his head. He wiped a hand across his face. His beard was soaked. “I was stopping, I promise. It’s probably not good to make you pull out the safe word like that.”
Harper panted. She was flush from her cheeks, all the way to her breasts. She lifted her hips, taking the pillow out from under her and tossing it aside. “Okay. Sorry. Too much.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” He stroked his hands down her thighs. She was warm too. Too warm. “You’re very hot.”
She nodded. “Just give me a minute. Could you stop touching me?”
He pulled his hands away and moved back, giving her more space. “Better?”
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
“Water?” He offered.
“I think there’s still some in in my cup.” She motioned toward the nightstand. She blew out another breath to sit up straighter. Pietr shuffled across the bed, stretching to pick up the cup, shaking it to test how full it was before handing it to her.
Harper took it, taking a long drink from the straw. Then she looked up at him with a breathy smile.
“You don’t have to look so worried. It’s been a while since we’ve done something like that.”
He nodded and let her lace her fingers with his, still hesitant to touch. Her skin was glowing a ruddy pink now as she cooled down. “Do you want a cool cloth or something?”
“Maybe a cool shower? Wash your beard?” She laughed as she plunked the cup down on the nightstand before draping herself into his lap. “You’re a mess.” She licked a wiry cheek.
“I bet I am,” he grinned, “but I’m not done with you yet.”
“You’re not?”
“No. Can we try something? If it’s not too much for you?”
“I’m okay. I just needed a minute. What do you want to do?” She licked him again.
“I don’t want to make you cum,” he started, “although if you do, that’s good too.” He gave her cheek a little lick in return. “I want to keep going. Tasting you. Touching. Eh,” he thought for a second about how to describe it, “I want to worship you.”
“Worship?” She repeated.
“Just enjoy. When you’re done, say to stop,” he said. “It’s not to get to a finish line. I want to test. Taste. Feel.”
“How do you want me?”
Pietr considered that for a moment before he kissed her. “Edge of the bed?”
He picked up the pillow they’d already made a mess of, tossing it down on the floor to kneel on. Harper adjusted, taking another one to lean on.
Pietr coaxed her thighs apart, instructing her a little more to prop her feet at the edge too. He had plenty of room to not only lick but touch. Like he’d done to her, Harper covered her eyes with an arm to focus.
Pietr was slow and patient. He felt Harper’s thighs quake the longer he continued. He finally took the hint, though she was otherwise enjoying it to finally stop. He stood, covering her for just a moment to press another kiss to her lips. “You want to be done.”
She peeked at him. “It’s nice. You can go on if you want.”
“You’re not enjoying it,” he chided.
“It’s not that!” She assured him. “It just...it’s a lot of focus on me.”
“Da. You deserve a little special treatment.”
“There are other ways to treat me,” she said.
“What would you like?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” She blushed.
“Think about it,” he requested. “Let me know for later.” He kissed her again. “Do you want to go take a shower with me now?”
“Yes.” She grinned.
“Come on then.” He straightened, offering her a hand. “You can scrub my beard for me, since you made such a mess of it.”
Harper laughed but didn’t deny doing so. He caught her against his chest, giving her another kiss.
“I love you. So much.”
“I love you too. I’m glad you’re home.”
He smiled against her lips. “Me too. Trust me.”