Something About Harry(86)

Harry slipped his tongue along the crease where thigh met hip, teasing, taunting until she had to clench her teeth to keep from ordering him to pleasure her.

His mouth inched closer, sliding her panties over until each increment of movement became a carnal act all unto itself.

He was delivering the hearts and flowers he’d promised slow and deliberate, driving her not so quietly insane.

When Harry finally plunged his tongue into her wet folds, she bucked beneath him with a wild abandon she’d never encountered. The combination of his hands stroking her thighs and his tongue deep within, skimming her clit in hot pass after pass, made her come in a flash of brilliant color and lights.

Mara strained against him, rising up and driving herself against his mouth, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his neck.

It was then Harry drove a finger into her, deep and hungry, and as his lips consumed her and his tongue devoured her, she came again.

Her chest heaved, her lungs begging for air as she rode his mouth, curling her fingers into tight fists.

Harry drew his finger from her slowly, caressing and kissing every inch of available flesh while he did. Whispering, soothing, when she whimpered the loss of his body pressed to hers. He rubbed his cheek against her calf wrapped around his neck, the bristles of five o’clock shadow sending shivers along her spine.

His fingers, now gentle and tender, continued to stroke her, skimming across the tops of her thighs as he made his way up along her body.

Mara tore at his jeans, desperate to touch him, feel the weight of his cock in her hands. Harry helped, driving them downward until he was naked.

His beautifully maintained body gleamed in the firelight, lush with muscle and endless razor-sharp edges of bone pressing against flesh.

Mara’s breath caught in her throat when he slipped entirely from her grasp and pulled her upward with him, leaving them standing face-to-face.

Harry splayed his hand across her lower back, driving her up against him hard, curling his other arm around her shoulders until their chests crashed together.

Mara reached between them, cradling his shaft, stroking the long column of it, lingering over the tip, reaching around him and cupping his ass to knead the muscled flesh.

Harry’s lips sought hers again, his tongue driving into her mouth until she almost couldn’t breathe from the newest round of heat between her legs. He pulled away with a suddenness, drawing her to the floor and splaying his large frame in the small space between the couch and the fireplace hearth.

Mara’s heart jumped at the sight, crashing and pounding in her ears. His thick thighs, dark with a sprinkling of hair, his lean calves, tight from working out, all made her mouth water. The ripple of his abs and the trail of hair led to his erection, stiff and waiting.

“Sit,” Harry demanded, his breathing harsh, his words not a request as he positioned her atop him, her back to his face.

She gasped when their skin met again, leaning forward when Harry placed his large hand under her ass and lifted to hold her just above his cock. Her fingers dug into his thighs with anticipation, luxuriating in the flex of tight muscle.

When he centered himself at her passage, Mara almost wept a plea. Instead, she bit her lip and savored his entry, a slow push upward of thick, hot cock.

Her gasp echoed in the room, the pleasure so intense. Yet Harry lingered, lying still beneath her until she wanted to scream a demand to drive deeply into her. He placed one hand at her waist, stroking the curve of it, slipping it around until he found her throbbing clit.

Mara jolted when he began that torturous stroke of the sensitive nub, her hips began to writhe, moving up and down, slow, steady, and that white-hot need grew in her again.

Harry drew circles on her spine, pushing her forward inch by inch until his hand was under her ass again. Mara lifted her hips to give him access while she clung to his hand, encouraging him to stroke her cleft, moaning long and low each time he hit her sweet spot.

She braced her hands on his thighs, using her core to rock with him, savoring the thrust of his cock, slick from her desire.

Each thrust made Harry hiss, sounding out his pleasure, making Mara smile with the joy being a woman brought her tonight.

She cried out when his thrusts became more forceful, welcoming the stretch of her muscles, gritting her teeth when he sat up and pulled her tight to his chest.

His hands went to her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingertips. His words, hot and hushed, spurred her on. “Christ, Mara. I can’t hold on much more, but I don’t want this to end—ever . . .”

Her arms went up around his neck with a cry of completion, tears stinging her eyes. This—this moment with Harry—one she’d never even considered; it was so tender and right it left her weak with need. She clung to him as he took a final drive upward, exploding into a million pieces when he demanded she come with him.