Filed to story: You’re Mine Read Online Free
“Got it.”
She comes over and grabs Ryans hands and puts them on her tits and immediately his eyes go all glassy.
Poor bastard probably doesn’t even remember his own address right now.
Was I that bad?
“Come on, Ryan, let’s go sit down, good boy, good job, right over here.”
I swear he’s drooling as he follows her like a pussy to the corner of the couch and sits, hands still firmly planted on boob like he’s afraid they’ll disappear if he lets go.
I shake my head.
“What a fucking simp.”
Harper starts to laugh.
Something grazes the front of my jeans.
I look down, her fingertips dance a bit and then she pulls back like she wasn’t touching me.
I’m so hard my dick could probably punch through a wall.
Fuck with my luck it would probably somehow lead directly to her dads office, said dick would be caught, and they’d bury me right next to the flatscreen.
And here lies Eastondead but somehow still hard, may he rest in peace.
“Alcohol,”
I barely get out.
“Where.”
Harper jumps up then stumbles against me.
“Sorry that was weird.
Must have gotten up too fast or something.”
“Careful.”
I pull her into my arms, and then look to my right.
Sadie’s on top of Ryan.
Ryan’s dry humping Sadie.
I shake my head.
“Think vodka will help bleach our eyes?”
I ask.
Harper makes a gagging sound.
“Nope, but maybe it will help us forget the sight of my twin ruining this couch for life.”
“Yup.”
“Come on.”
Harper
I’m exhausted.
Mom and Dad have finally gone to bed, but I wouldn’t put it past them to do room checks like they used to at summer camp.
I’m still downstairs with Easton bingeing some murderous documentary about a crime of passion, and some creepy stalker who always pretended to be her work friend but secretly cut pieces of her hair and slept with them in his pillow.
Ryan and Sadie are upstairs doing who knows what in the kitchen.
The creepy man on the screen continues his stalking.
Gross.
I shudder.
“Are you cold?”
Easton asks, pulling me close.
I frown.
“Is it just me or are you way too into the part where he almost gets away with it.” He shakes his head like he’s disappointed in the mass murderer.
“I mean, he’s an idiot, he could have made it, but noooo, he has to go back for one of those creepy pieces of hair like he didn’t just kill her for rejecting him.”
I scrunch up my nose.
“Weird that the husband ended up living.”
“Poor guy probably wishes he were dead, imagine someone standing over you while you sleep with a butcher knife.”
“Yay, what a great Christmas, so merry and bright,”
I tease and give him a hard shove.
“I’m going to have nightmares tonight about knives.” He laughs.
I turn to him and grip him by the shirt.
“I will end you if you sneak into my room, hover over me with a knife and scare the shit out of me.
I’ll take that same knife and chop off both balls.”
“Wouldn’t that make me a eunuch?”
“Yes,”
I seethe.
“With the giant dick but a severe lack of testosterone and desire to have sex.”
“Should I be scared that you just gave me an exact definition?”
He smiles.
“Chill, I won’t scare you, I actually like my testicles and um…”
He crooks his finger and whispers in my ear,
“So do you.”
“Do not.”
I sniff and look away.
“Babe, you sucked them so hard the other day I was afraid you were going to bite down.”
His smile is devastating.
“Lately, you’ve been like a wild animal in bed, not that I’m complaining whatsoever…”
He holds up his hands.
“In fact…”
He leans in, my heart pounds so hard it almost makes my chest hurt.
Our lips meet in a hungry kiss.
God, how did I ever survive without this man? These kisses? He’s the addiction your mom always warns you about.
I keep thinking he’s going to get tired of us, of this, that one day we really will make it through the end of the movie without getting naked.
He answers that question as our legs tangle with each other and the blankets on the couch.
“I love you and I want this to last,”
he says between kisses.
“But after watching the whole man with the butcher knife, I can’t stop thinking about your dad coming down the stairs with one of the steak knives from the kitchen.”
He groans and kisses me again.
“It’s messing with my erection.”
“Huh, my dad’s messing with your erection, that’s new,’ I tease, kissing his nose.
He tickles my sides and tugs down my shorts quickly unbuttoning his jeans and pressing me back against my childhood leather couch.
I have to admit I dreamt about it but never saw this in my future, I was too afraid to hope for it as he guides himself between my legs.
I used to brace for how big his dick was, but now my body instantly relaxes, basically sucking him in and saying a small prayer that he’ll stay.
But he’s right, I’m so sensitive and emotional I can’t even control my own body as I get dangerously close within a minute.
He grips my hips and looks up at the stairway like he’s afraid then looks back down at me.
“I was going to warn you about how fast I was going to go but fuck, it’s even worse than I thought.” He bites down on his lower lip.
“Fuck, baby, you have a magic pussy.
That’s really all there is to it.”
We both laugh and it makes the pressure shift just enough for his angle to hit the perfect little magical Gspot.
I don’t know what I say.
Or if It’s just gibberish.
All I know is Mom can never find out that the couch has joined the soon to be long list of desecrated items in our household.
I’m almost embarrassed as Easton pulls out.
We’ve made a mess, like a way bigger mess than we’ve ever made post sex.
“I got it.”
He kisses me again and returns from the downstairs wet bar with an array of paper towels and a warm rag from the sink.
I groan as he rubs me down.
He growls,
“Gonna have to not do that…the only reason I have self control is fear of an early death.”
“Worst case scenario,’ I say as he tugs my shorts back up and wipes down my legs.
“Dad chases you with one of his old shotguns that he probably doesn’t even know how to use.”
“Perfect.”
Easton rolls his eyes and gathers the used paper towels, tossing them in the trash in the corner, taking one look at the wash-rag and looking to me for help.
“With my luck, he’ll misfire and hit my dick, making your prophetic story actually come true.” I fall back on the couch laughing.
He drops the towel and walks over.
“Oh, is that funny?”
“Hilarious.” I laugh again as he pulls me into his arms, kissing me on the top of the head.
“I can feel your stress, Harper.”
His body is hot against mine, muscular, firm, and safe.
I snuggle closer as we sit with the reflection of the documentary on the TV.
“I just want you to know that I’m here, by your side, no matter what.
I know we’re young and we’ve talked about it off and on, but I’m not leaving you.
We’ll figure this whole college and adulthood thing out.”
“I cant even write a check.”
“People still do that?” He teases.
I elbow him in the gut.
“I’m serious, I mean my parents have taken care of everything for us, my only job is school and now I’m worried I failed at my only job.
My grades have to be good, Easton.
They have to be.”
“You’re literally the smartest person I know,’ he says.