Playing Dead: Book One of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 39

I watched him as he leant against the wall, arms outstretched and the muscles tensing in his toned back. His head was bowed and his dark hair hung over his face. Moving forward, he rested his forehead against the cracked plaster and ran one palm over the wall, as if caressing skin and I was hypnotised by the slow movement of his hand and the tattoo of the black dragon, almost writhing on his back as he inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"I can't hear them," he said and I could hear the frustration and pain in his voice.

Walking over to his side, I placed both my hands on the wall and pressed my ear against it, closing my eyes and hearing the whispers immediately, still enslaved by their agony and suffering but this time there was something else fuelling their cries, something that made me smile to hear it.

When I opened my eyes, Harper had turned to face me, his head still leaning against the wall and I could see the anxiety etched across his face. Covering his hand with my own, I interlocked my fingers with his and held it there.

"They know you're here," I whispered. "Close your eyes and listen."

He did as I asked, his long dark lashes falling onto his pale skin and I took one selfish moment to covet his face, his flawless skin, the strong line of his jaw and down to the bite mark clearly still visible on his neck. Moving behind him, I covered both of his hands with mine and pressing myself against him. I synced my breathing with his and remembered a time not so long ago when we had stood like this, only with him behind me as we watched through the glass as the city sparkled beneath us.

Turning my head, I let my lips brush his skin lightly and felt him tense as I ran my fingers up his arms and down the contours of his back, idly tracing the patterns of his numerous tattoos.

"I can't...." he began.

"You're trying too hard. Relax," I urged, decorating his skin with small soft kisses and letting my hands slip round his waist where I unbuttoned his jeans and slipped a hand inside, gripping him as he instinctively hardened at my touch. He moaned softly and shifted slightly, straining against my palm. Using my other hand, I pulled on his jeans so they rested lower on his hips, allowing me more freedom to touch him and all the while I didn't let my mouth break contact with his skin.

His breathing grew faster and heavier as my hand worked him harder and he remained where he was, with his hands and forehead pressed against the cold wall but I could feel his tension, so brittle and unyielding. Dropping to the floor, I squeezed myself into the gap between his hips and the wall and kneeling in front of him, I tugged at his jeans, pulling them partway down his muscular thighs. Touching my lips to his hard skin, I continued with those soft warm kisses until I gave in and covered him completely with my mouth, hearing him groan and finally relax, leaning into me as his body relented and shook off the unbearable tension that had imprisoned him.

My tongue and lips travelled up and down and his hips moved in a small circle, rhythmically moving in time with the movement of my mouth as I consumed him and then finally I felt him jerk forward, emitting a deep groan and I did not release him until he was done and breathing hard against the wall, beads of sweat dampening the plaster under his forehead.

"I heard them," he gasped, his voice deep and husky as he tried to catch his breath and I pulled him down to the floor, his knees either side of my thighs as he slumped back onto his heels, his body slouched and head hanging down. "There are too many, Megan," he whispered. "Too many souls to feed."

The pain in his voice was heartbreaking and I took his face in my hands, lifting his head but almost not wanting to see the despair in those emerald eyes that I knew would be there. I hated seeing him so vulnerable. It unsettled me and despite everything he had subjected me to when I had first been turned, I wanted to see flashes of the Harper he was then; arrogant, cruel, and powerful. Leaning forward, I pressed my mouth against his, crushing myself against his lips before pulling back slightly and locking eyes with him.