Something About Harry(110)

Her fingers found the waist of the scrubs the hospital had given him, pulling at the tie and slipping them down his rock-hard thighs. He was naked beneath, gloriously, fabulously naked.

As she tore her lips from his, she rolled down along his body, pressing her heated flesh to his, moaning her appreciation for the hard lines of his abs, the trail of hair leading to his cock.

Her hands found his shaft, hot, silken, stiff, and without hesitation, she let her lips skim the rigid line. Harry’s hiss and low groan made her nipples harden, scraping against the comforter as she settled between his thighs, kneeling there, encompassing his cock with both hands.

Harry’s fingers scored her hair, clutching fistfuls of it when she speared him with her mouth, letting her tongue slide along the heated column, cupping his balls, rolling them with gentle fingertips.

His hips crashed upward, his body tensing and flexing as she swirled her tongue around him, along the throbbing vein just beneath the head of his shaft. His knees rose up and Mara slipped her hands under him, cupping his ass, lifting him higher, driving him into her mouth over and over until he pulled away from her with a hiss of a groan. “No more!” he rasped out, grabbing at her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh.

He hauled her upward, rolling her to her back, taking her breath away with the force of it, driving his hands into her hair until her back arched and he was kneeling over her, burying his face in her neck, trailing hot, wet kisses along her neck, down over her breasts.

His teeth grazed her nipples, making Mara fight not to scream his name. Her hands clenched the bedding beneath her, tearing at it for the sweet agony he evoked as he slid down her body. Without the pretense of their last encounter, he spread the lips of her sex, wet, slick with a need so intense her heart surely stopped.

Harry ran the length of her slit, entering her with a digit, then two, driving into her and placing his mouth over her clit. He dragged his tongue over the swollen bud, licking, sucking, thrusting his fingers into her until the heat searing her veins exploded.

Mara jammed her hips downward, lifting them again and again until her orgasm tore at her, reaching deep within her, ripping it from her body with a scream she had to bite her tongue to keep from leaving her mouth.

Her chest heaved. Her hands went to Harry’s head, threading her fingers into his thick hair as she whimpered his name.

Harry slid up alongside her, turning her to her side and sheltering her with his chest. He raised her thigh high, hooking it around his thighs, spreading her, placing his hot cock at her entrance.

Mara reached a hand between them and stroked him, encouraging, silently begging before his first upward thrust into her.

He nipped at her shoulder, cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers to hard peaks, moaning at how easily she accepted him.

Mara’s hands went up around his neck, arching into him, loving the feel of her ass against his hips, rolling with him when he splayed his large hand across her abdomen, cupping the heat of it, whimpering again when he let his middle finger slip into her wetness.

They rocked together, Harry deep within her, thrusting, stiff, hot, creating a fire so hot it consumed her.

Their thrusts increased, the spiral of desperate lust Harry evoked in her deepening, crawling its way upward until her body went rigid from the pleasure, tensing, feeling Harry tighten beneath her.

She ran her hands along his muscled arm, abandoning everything but the drive to find her release.

Harry’s body seized, his strong, warm arms tightening, his pelvis tightening along with hers until he took one last thrust. One last, silken, wet thrust, so deep everything stopped but Harry within her. His moan in her ear was husky and raw, her whimper of satisfaction mingling with his.

Harsh air escaped their lungs, rasping into the silence of her bedroom. Harry stroked the curve of her waist, tracing the indentation with his palm, soothing away the vestiges of her frenzied orgasm until she melted back against him.

Harry nuzzled her neck, the stubble on his chin from the long night, scraping her skin with delicious possession. “Werewolf sex rocketh,” he murmured, slipping his arm under her and turning her to face him.

Mara giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting her lips for a tender kiss. “I couldn’t say for sure, Harry Emmerson. I’ve never had human sex. But I think this’ll do for now,” she teased.

“For now? Fickle, aren’t we, Ms. Werewolf?”

She gave him a grin full of the devil. “You’ll just have to work harder then, won’t you, Mr. Werewolf?”

Trailing kisses along her jaw, Harry chuckled, a deep, contented rumble. “Always with the work. Why is everything with you people so much work?”