Chapter 27: The Morning Pact

Harper woke Sunday morning in Zane Carver's penthouse master suite, sunlight filtering through the navy curtains, her body deliciously sore from last night's claiming. The silk sheets were tangled around her legs, his arm heavy across her waist, his breath warm against her neck—a possessive anchor after their first night as a couple. She shifted, wincing slightly—every muscle sang with the memory of him thrusting into her, her screams echoing off the mirrors, his growled Mine sealing them together. Love, raw and real, had burned through them, and now, in the quiet dawn, she felt it settle, deep and unshakable.He stirred, his hand tightening on her hip, pulling her closer as his lips brushed her shoulder—soft, lazy, a contrast to last night's fire. "Morning," he rasped, his voice rough with sleep and satisfaction, his erection pressing against her thigh, a silent promise of more."Morning," she replied, her voice husky, rolling to face him, her bare skin sliding against his—warm, hard, hers. His gray eyes were half-lidded, glinting with love and mischief, and she traced a finger down his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under her touch."Sleep okay?" he asked, his hand sliding to her ass, squeezing gently, his lips curving into a smirk as he pulled her flush against him, their bodies aligning—naked, tangled, still humming from the night."Eventually," she teased, her leg hooking over his hip, her core brushing him, drawing a low groan from his throat. "You wore me out.""Good." His smirk widened, and he kissed her—slow, deep, tasting of them both, a lazy exploration that sent heat pooling low. She moaned, soft and needy, her hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer as their tongues danced, reigniting the fire that never seemed to die."Zane—" Her voice broke, a gasp as he rolled her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head, his mouth trailing down her neck, kissing the faint bruise he'd left—now a mark of love, not just lust. He released her wrists, his hands roaming—gripping her thighs, spreading her wide as he settled between them, his breath hot against her skin."Love waking up to you," he murmured, his lips brushing her breast, sucking gently, his tongue flicking until she arched, a moan spilling free, loud enough to echo off the mirrors. She clawed at his shoulders, her hips rocking, craving more, but he pulled back, grinning down at her, playful and smug."Tease," she muttered, shoving at his chest, but he caught her wrists again, pinning them beside her head, his body hovering over hers, teasing without giving in."Move in," he said, his voice dropping, serious now, his eyes locking onto hers—fierce, sure, a challenge. "Here. With me. No more Brooklyn couch."Her breath hitched, the shift catching her off guard, and she tugged her wrists free, sitting up, the sheets pooling around her waist. "Move in? That's—big, Zane.""Big man." His smirk returned, but his hand slid to her jaw, tilting her face to his, his thumb brushing her lip. "I mean it, Harper. I love you—want you here, every morning, every night. No half-measures."Her chest tightened, love and nerves tangling, and she searched his face—raw, open, waiting. "I love you too," she said, quieter, her hand covering his, holding it there. "But my place—it's mine. My mess. This is… fast.""Fast?" He laughed, rough and warm, pulling her onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips, his hands gripping her thighs. "We've been crashing into each other for weeks—shelves, Paris, every damn room here. I'm done waiting."She swallowed, her hands sliding to his shoulders, feeling the tension there, the truth in his words. "You're serious.""Dead serious." His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer, his lips brushing hers—a whisper of a kiss that made her tremble. "Say yes. Or fight me on it—I'll win either way."Her laugh was shaky, heat flaring at the challenge, and she shoved him back, pinning him to the sheets, her hips rocking against him—slow, deliberate, feeling him pulse beneath her. "You'll win?" she teased, her voice husky, her nails raking his chest as he groaned, loud and needy."Fuck yes," he rasped, bucking up, flipping her onto her back with a swift twist, his body pinning hers, the silk cool against her spine. "Shower—now. I'll convince you there.""Try me," she shot back, her legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him tight as he scooped her up, carrying her to the ensuite—black marble, glass shower, steam already rising as he turned the water on, hot and inviting.He set her down, the spray soaking them—naked, slick, the water cascading over her skin as he pressed her against the glass, his mouth crashing into hers, a kiss deep and desperate, tasting of love and defiance. She moaned, her hands clawing at his back, tugging him closer as he lifted her, her legs locking around him, the water amplifying every touch—his chest hard against hers, his hands gripping her ass, guiding her."Say yes," he growled, breaking the kiss, his lips on her neck, sucking hard, marking her anew as he thrust—slow, deep, entering her fully, filling her with a stretch that drew a cry from her throat. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he moved, a rhythm that shook the glass, water splashing around them, their bodies slick and crashing together in a dance of raw, unfiltered passion."Zane—fuck—" Her voice broke, her hands fisting his hair, pulling him back to her mouth as he thrust harder, deeper, the steam fogging the glass, her moans echoing off the marble. He groaned, his hand sliding between them, fingers finding her, circling, pushing her to the edge as she rocked against him, meeting every thrust, her climax building, a wave she couldn't hold back."Yes—yes—" Her plea shattered, desperate, and he grinned, triumphant, his lips brushing hers as he thrust faster, the glass rattling, her body trembling. She shattered, her climax hitting hard, a scream tearing from her throat as she clenched around him, pulsing, undone. He followed, a guttural roar as he buried himself in her, his release hot and fierce, his arms banding around her as they slumped against the glass, breathless, sated.They stood there, water pouring over them, their breaths mingling in the steam, her legs still wrapped around him, his hands possessive on her skin. He kissed her—slow, deep, tasting of them both, a seal on their pact. "Yes?" he murmured, his voice rough, satisfied, his forehead pressing to hers."Yes," she whispered, too wrecked to fight, her body still trembling with aftershocks as she clung to him, water dripping from her hair. "I'll move in—asshole.""Love you too." He smirked, setting her down, her legs shaky as he turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around her, his hands lingering, claiming. She let him dry her, her body sinking into his touch, the fight gone, the love complete—for now.Tomorrow, they'd face logistics—her couch, her lease, the chaos of merging lives—but today, in his shower, with his hands possessive on her skin, she didn't care. They'd claimed each other again, and it was everything she'd feared and craved.