Chapter 64 Chapter 64

Chapter 64 Chapter 64
Harper stood in the middle of her bedroom, the thick white towel wrapped snugly around her body. Water droplets still clung to her shoulders and collarbone, tracing slow paths down her damp skin. Her hair was wet, dark strands sticking to her neck and back, and the faint scent of vanilla body wash lingered in the warm air. She had just stepped out of the shower when the bedroom door opened without a knock.
The One stepped inside.
He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, his black-rimmed eyes immediately finding her. The brown centers were still visible, but the darkness around them made him look both familiar and dangerously alive.
Harper startled, clutching the towel tighter to her chest.
“You scared me,” she said, half-laughing, half-annoyed.
He smirked, leaning back against the closed door.
“Good. Means you’re paying attention.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
“What do you want?”
He pushed off the door and walked toward her—slow, deliberate steps that made the space between them feel smaller with every inch.
“You,” he said simply.
Harper’s breath hitched.
She took a small step back, but the dresser stopped her.
“I’m about to shower.”
“Perfect timing,” he murmured.
He stopped right in front of her.
Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body.
His gaze dropped—slowly—tracing the line where the towel met her skin, the droplets sliding down her neck, the way her chest rose and fell a little faster.
“You look… delicious,” he said, voice low and rough.
Harper felt heat rush to her face.
“Stop staring.”
“Can’t help it.”
He reached out.
One finger hooked gently under the edge of the towel at her collarbone.
Not pulling.
Just resting there.
“May I?”
She swallowed.
Nodded once.
He tugged.
The towel loosened.
Slid down her body.
Pooled at her feet.
She stood bare in front of him.
His eyes darkened.
But he didn’t rush.
He stepped closer.
Hands sliding up her arms—slow, reverent—until they cupped her face.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Then he kissed her.
Slow.
So slow it ached.
Lips brushing hers with deliberate care.
Tongue stroking hers—gentle at first, then deeper, exploring.
She melted into it.
Hands coming up to rest on his chest.
He walked her backward until the back of her legs hit the bed.
Guided her down onto the mattress without breaking the kiss.
He settled over her—weight braced on his forearms so he wasn’t crushing her.
His mouth left hers—traveled down her jaw, down her throat.
Soft, open-mouthed kisses.
Teeth grazing her pulse point just enough to make her shiver.
He kissed lower.
Collarbone.
The swell of her breast.
Took one nipple into his mouth—gentle suction, tongue circling slowly.
Harper gasped.
Her fingers slid into his hair.
Held him there.
He moved to the other side.
Same attention.
Same reverence.
Then lower.
Kissed down her stomach.
The dip of her waist.
The line of her hip.
He looked up—eyes dark, burning, but soft at the edges.
He kissed the inside of her thigh.
Then higher.
His mouth found her.
Slow.
Thorough.
Tongue stroking with deliberate care.
Lips sucking gently.
Harper’s back arched off the bed.
A broken moan escaped her.
He didn’t rush.
He took his time—learning every sound she made, every twitch of her hips, every gasp.
When she was trembling, fingers tight in his hair, begging—only then did he move back up.
Kissed her mouth again.
She tasted herself on his tongue.
He shed his clothes—hoodie, shirt, jeans—until he was naked above her.
Skin on skin.
Heat on heat.
He settled between her thighs.
Looked down at her.
He leaned down.
Kissed her—deep, languid.
One hand slid between them.
Fingers found her—already wet, ready.
Gentle circles.
Slow strokes.
She moaned into his mouth.
He swallowed the sound.
Kept kissing her.
Kept touching her.
Building her up—patient, deliberate.
When she was trembling on the edge—he pulled his hand away.
Positioned himself.
Looked into her eyes.
He pushed inside.
Slow.
So slow she felt every inch.
She gasped.
He stilled.
Forehead pressed to hers.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
He started moving.
Long, rolling thrusts.
Deep.
Steady.
No rush.
Just… them.
Her legs wrapped around his waist.
Pulled him closer.
Deeper.
He groaned against her throat.
His name fell from her lips—over and over.
He kissed her again—deep, slow.
Her nails raked down his back.
He growled low in his throat.
She felt it building—tight, electric, inevitable.
He reached between them.
Found the spot that made stars explode behind her eyes.
She shattered.
Cried out—half sob, half plea—as pleasure crashed through her in waves so intense tears streamed down her temples.
He followed—body locking tight, low groan rumbling against her neck as he spilled inside her.
They stayed like that—tangled, trembling, breathing each other in.
He didn’t pull out.
Just held her.
Forehead pressed to hers.
Quiet.
After a long moment he kissed the tears from her cheeks.
Soft.
Tender.
He pulled her against his chest.
Wrapped his arms around her.
Held her close.
And in the dark, with his heartbeat steady against her ear, Harper finally let herself breathe.