Chapter 329
** Archie’s POV **
Something is wrong with Harper. She is trying to pretend everything is fine, but I can sense her growing anxiety. Was Dillon right? Is she nervous about bonding with us?
I want her, badly. I’ve dreamed about her every single night for over a year, but I can wait as long as it takes until she is ready.
Hell, if she is never ready, then I’d still be here, worshipping the ground she walks on. I am more than ready to take our relationship to the next stage and be intimate with her, but just having her in my life is enough.
She is enough.
In any capacity.
Dillon waited at the table whilst I took Harper up to choose her food, and then he went to get his. Dillon casts me a worried glance when he returns to see Harper has barely touched the bowl of pasta she had chosen.
“Don’t you like it? Do you want me to get you something else?” Dillon asks.
Harper blinks her eyes, as if just returning from another place within her mind, and looks at him. “No, this is fine,” she half smiles before returning to pushing the pasta around her bowl with her fork.
“You should try the cookies. They do a raspberry and white chocolate one that is to die for. Do you want me to see if they have any?” He asks.
“No, thank you. I’m pretty full already.”
“How can you be full? You’ve not even eaten half the bowl,” I ask.
“I’m just tired I guess,” she shrugs, but her gaze briefly flicks towards the unbonded table before going back to her food.
Dillon doesn’t miss it either and we both look at the long table at the back of the hall. Is someone making her uncomfortable?
A few of the unbonded cast curious glances around the room. They’re probably wondering if their potential bond is in among the new students, but none seems to pay Harper much attention, except one. The troublemaker, Finley. Who beams at me when he notices me looking at him.
Does he just recognise us from the corridor earlier? Or does he feel drawn to Harper? I really hope it’s not the latter. He doesn’t seem a good fit for our girl.
Harper is confident in some ways, but lately she has become more introverted. Finley seems like he would draw too much unwanted attention, plus I doubt he’s a favourite of her parents.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I ask, sharing a look with Dillon, whose expression has turned into a frown. “Yes please,” Harper breathes, standing to leave.
“Go. I’ll catch you up,” Dillon says, shovelling his spaghetti into his mouth.
I stand and wrap an arm around Harper’s waist, guiding her out of the dining hall and back towards our apartment.
I laugh as I look at the food. He has brought cookies, fruit, bags of crisps and chocolate bars. Harper leans forward and takes one of the cookies, nibbling on it, and I give Dillon a subtle nod of approval.
I will need to make sure we get the kitchen stocked up for when she is too anxious to eat in the dining hall. I’m no chief, but I can make a few simple meals to keep her fed if needed.
Dillon sits on Harper’s other side and I start the movie I’d chosen for us. I’d gone for one that looked girly and Harper seems pleased as she snuggles into my side. Dillon pulls her feet onto his lap and takes off her shoes, rubbing her feet and she lets out a moan that goes straight to my dick.
Shifting slightly, I grab a cushion to cover my lap and hope she doesn’t notice, I don’t want to make this awkward for her, but she can’t be making noises like that and not expect my mind to go straight to the gutter. I’ve heard those moans from her every night in my dreams.
Dillon’s eyes meet mine over Harper’s head, and he gives me a knowing smirk. He can smirk all he likes. I can guarantee he is just as affected by her sound as I am.
Adjusting my position so I can easily reach Harper’s shoulders, I massage them, drawing another small moan of pleasure from her.
Dillon’s hands slowly work their way up her legs, massaging her as he goes. I watch her chest rise and fall, looking for any signs she is uncomfortable with this.
When he reaches her thighs, her breath hitches, but she doesn’t tense. Instead, she hums softly and I can clearly see her nipples pebble under her t–shirt. She is enjoying it
My hand moves from her shoulder, over her collarbone, and my fingers skim over the swell of her breast. My fingers itch to tease her nipple through the fabric of her t–shirt, but I resist. If we move too fast, she might feel pressured into something she is not ready for.
I move my hand back up towards her shoulder but Harper’s hand grips my wrist, guiding my hand back to her breast and I finally get my wish as I skim my thumb lightly over her nipple and I am rewarded with the most beautiful gasp from her sweet lips.
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