I do that to you, was all I could think.
This man, who looked like Gucci made suits just because he existed, groaned because of me.
This man, whose beautiful green eyes told everyone who met him he was the boss, was fucking me.
This man, who ruled Wall Street, the power behind the performance of leading investment banks in Manhattan, was having to concentrate so he didn’t come too quickly because of me.
I brought the King of Wall Street to his knees.
“Jesus, Harper.”
I pushed against his chest and shifted so he stopped. We were both going to come within seconds if we stayed like that. I moved under him.
“What? That was perfect,” he said.
“Too perfect,” I replied and flipped over onto my stomach. Seeing him so undone would push me over the edge too soon.
He slid his hands under my thighs and pulled me toward him and straight onto his dick. My back arched as pleasure shot through my legs and ricocheted left and right then up my body. I pushed myself up onto my hands, trying to participate in some way, but I couldn’t.
I clenched as he ran the heel of his hand up my spine then clasped my shoulder. “So tight. So good,” he groaned.
In seconds I was right on the edge, the change of position having done nothing to dampen my desire for him, to ward off my orgasm. His touch made sure everything was just as intense.
“Max,” I cried out.
He thrust in, harder this time. “Again,” he choked out.
“Max. Please. God. Max.” I couldn’t hold it off any longer.
As I spiraled down from my climax, Max bellowed out my name and collapsed on top of me, his front to my back, then rolled to the side, pulling me with him.
Chapter Twelve
Max
I came out of the bathroom to find Harper hadn’t moved a muscle. I couldn’t blame her; we’d spent most of the night fucking and I was exhausted.
“From what I saw today, your father still has quite the hold on you.”
Harper pulled the sheet up over her face. “Really? You’re standing there with your dick out looking at me while I still have your come between my legs, and we’re going to talk about my father?”
“You don’t have my come between your legs. I just threw out the condom.”
She popped out from under the sheet to scowl at me. “I meant it figuratively.”
She was so completely breathtaking when she was mad with me, and I quickly forgot what we were talking about. “You look beautiful.” I crawled onto the mattress. I wanted to pull her into me, but she swiped me on the arm and headed to the bathroom.
“You don’t take any money from him, do you?” I called after her. Her apartment, her clothes. She wasn’t taking any handouts from what I could see. I liked that about her. She was independent. Unable to be bought.
“Why do you ask?” She appeared in the bathroom doorway, one hand on the frame, totally unconcerned by her nakedness. I really liked that about her. I liked the way her hips flared, emphasizing her small waist. Liked the way her tits jutted out as if they wanted to join in the conversation. My dick hardened.
“Max?” she prompted, and I pulled my gaze back up to meet hers. “You’re a pervert.”
“You’re naked. What am I going to do other than look at you?”
“I don’t know, answer me?”
Even her sarcasm got me hard.
She pulled her hair back as if she were going to tie it up, which lifted up her breasts and lengthened her stomach. “Get the fuck over here before I start jerking myself off.”
She released her hair and stepped toward the bed. I grabbed her, pulling her down and against me, wrapping my legs around hers, clasping her to my chest. I couldn’t get close enough to quench my thirst for her.
“You’re right. I don’t take money from him. I started to take some money when I went to college. I figured he owed me that. But it didn’t feel right. I didn’t know that man.”
I pulled her closer. They seemed like strangers at lunch; he was asking her the most basic questions any father should already have known the answer to. There was no affection on Harper’s side. He was the man I’d never wanted to be for Amanda.
“Did he and your mother divorce?” I asked.
“No.” She exhaled sharply. “He didn’t have the decency to marry her in the first place.”
Oh. “Pandora and I didn’t marry,” I replied.
“Yeah, you said. Did you not want to marry her?” she asked. After seeing her with her father today, I wondered if she’d wanted to ask me that question for a while.
I tucked one arm behind my head. “Neither of us wanted to get married.”
“But you wanted Amanda. I mean you stayed in contact with her.”