Page 74 of Sins of the Father

“Did you like it?” His finger slides past my ass and into my wet sex.

I gasp, and he slides another one in.

“Hmm?” he asks, wanting an answer to his question, twisting his fingers while gently biting my neck.

“Yes,” I whimper, pushing down on him, wanting any part of him to fill me.

“Are you missing New York?”

“No,” I squeak out.

He brushes his lips on mine. “Why aren’t you upset with me?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. Zings race through my body, and I dig my knees into the cold leather, arch my back, and push his head to my chest.

He scrapes his stubble on my cleavage and pushes the silk of my robe to the side. His hot mouth pulls at my already puckered nipple, and he slides his tongue around it, hardening it further.

“I need you in me,” I cry out, rocking on his hand but needing more.

He slides his fingers out, unzips his pants, and slides me onto him.

“Oh...” I whimper, trembling from every inch of him.

A deep groan vibrates against my breast, rumbling into the air. His strong hands grip my hips, moving me with force, urgent and needy. Lips and tongues collide, desperate and hungry. The sweet smell of sex competes with the scent of his intoxicating skin.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

I grasp his face. Guilt and disappointment lace through it. “Shh.” I brush my lips to his. Our mouths open upon contact, ferociously consuming each other, as if we may somehow disappear.

I glide my hands in his shirt, digging into the bare flesh of his shoulders. My body buzzes, on the edge, and ready to fly. “Steven. Harder. Oh God. Please.”

He grunts and complies, slamming me so hard on him, I combust into pieces, falling into the curve of his neck, and spasming on his swelling cock as it pumps hard in me.

Hope cries out.

“I’ll get her,” he says.

“No. You go to bed. You need sleep.”

“I haven’t helped today.”

“You did this morning. Go to sleep. I’ll be in soon.”

Worry flies into his eyes. “Harper—”

I put my finger over his lips. “Go to bed.”

He finally nods, and I peck him on the lips, then attend to Hope. When she falls asleep, I sneak into the room and slide under the covers.

Steven pulls me into his arms. His warm skin hums against mine, and everything feels safe, which I realize I haven’t felt in years. He quietly asks, “Why aren’t you upset with me?”

I look up at him. “You’re supposed to be sleeping, not worrying.”

“I need to know. I feel horrible I didn’t look at my phone and I... I got wrapped up in my day and didn’t think. I’m not used... I don’t...” He releases a heavy breath.

“You’re not used to uncertainty.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

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