Page 63 of Silent Heart

“Look at me, Harley.”

Breathing hard, I pressed myself back and stared down at him. Our gazes collided, locking into a moment of profound revelation.

We stared at one another as he continued to rock himself deep into my shuddering channel. But it was the look we shared that sent me over the edge. More powerful than his touch, it bound a primal connection between us.

The release spasmed through me in an explosion of pleasure.

“Saints, Harley!” he cried, breaking the moment and trying to pull back.

Caught by the fever of the orgasm, I scrambled to hold him in place. “No!No,don’t move.”

“But—gahh,” Kole cried out. “You’re squeezing my cum straight from my balls.”

A triumphant smile curled my lips, and I breathlessly promised it was okay.

“I was going to pull out,” he growled, tightening his grip on my body. There would likely be bruises. Kole let out another strangled groan. His body was stiff and rigid, clenched in a kind of torment. “Ggarrrhh!You’re milking my cock with your sweet little pussy, water sprite. It’s a fucking dream.”

I might not have been consciously tightening those inner muscles before, but I sure as hell was now. A series of intentional squeezes, I pulled his seed deeper inside me. Later, I could worry about the consequences of my actions. But right now, it sent a frenzy through my blood knowing that Kole branded every inch of me.

“Stay with me,” he breathed.

“I’m right here,” I panted, pressing my lips against his forehead and raking my fingers through his hair.

Desperation filled his voice. “No, not that.”

He pushed his fingers into my hair, mirroring my touch.

“What?” I whispered. “What are you saying?”

“Spend the rest of the summer with me,” he rushed to say, as if he didn’t say it now, there wouldn’t be another chance. “I don’tknow how long I can stay, but for however long I’m here, be here, with me.”

“But you didn’t want me here,” I whispered.

Kole shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of being away from you. It’s too much. I can’t fight it anymore.”

How long did I even have with this man cloaked in secrets? What if he never really opened to me? But….If I say no, it ends now.

And that wasn’t a position I was willing to take.

Letting go of the myriad of unknowns, every logical argument that said this was a terrible idea, I nodded.

His lips met mine. I tasted…fruit. Strawberries. I smiled against his kiss before falling deeper into the pool of lust he pulled me into. And then, without moving away, he began to rock inside me, ready to go again, ready to give memore.

Chapter 23 – Harley

Dr. Hoffner stepped out, leaving me alone with the little beagle stretched out on the exam table. The room was small, cozy even, with soft sage walls meant to make pet owners feel like they were somewhere safe rather than in a sterile clinic. There were framed photos of dogs and cats hung neatly above a small counter, each one more playful and endearing than the last. The gentle hum of the air conditioning mixed with the faint scent of disinfectant, shampoo, and animal fur. The distinct and lingering odor covered the worse smells of blood, feces, and urine.

I took a deep breath, grounding myself. The beagle, Fritz, was still under from the sedative. His body was warm under my gloved hand as I checked his pulse, feeling the reassuring, slow thump of his heart beneath his thin fur. I ran my fingers over the soft creature, relishing the rise and fall of his little chest, and ever so grateful that his breathing was slow and steady. He should be just fine—the doctor had said as much—but I didn’t like leaving anything to chance.

Outside the exam room, the familiar sounds of the clinic filtered in. I could hear the low murmur of pet owners talking to reception, the occasional bark from a dog in the waiting area, and the soft ring of the phone as someone called in. It was comforting, in a way, the sounds of everyday life in the clinic—busy and bustling, yet somehow calm.

This was my happy place. It never felt like work, taking care of the creatures, great and small. Granted, there were hard days. Just last week, we had to put a foal down. A foal! But it was suffering, and the responsible thing was to end the pain. But that was a kind of helping. It wasn’t as fun as saving Fritz’s life, but it was necessary.

I was born for this.

After one more pat on the patient's little rump, I continued to clean up the tools we’d used, discarding gauze and placing the syringes into the biohazard container, all the while keeping an eye on Fritz. His nose twitched slightly in his sleep, a reminder that, even under sedation, he was still a determined hunter. Nothing was getting past him! I chuckled and finished the job at hand. With everything put away, I gave him one last gentle stroke along his back, feeling a swell of relief mixed with a bit of pride. I had done my job, and he was safe.

A fist rapped against the door.

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