Page 26 of Harry

She had to swallow the lump that had settled inside her throat. This was what she had been yearning for, this tender loving care of the man who was in this with her. Just his presence and the fact that he made her tea was making her feel warm inside.

“Drink.” He ordered and sat there watching her as she did.

The silence inside her bedroom lengthened as he sat there and waited until she had finished the tea. Taking the tray, he placed it on the side table. Her eyes widened when he started to remove his boots.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Next came his sweater and then his jeans. Her eyes flew to his face as the heat made the robe she had on felt like a chain mail.

“I am not having sex with you. You cannot just come here and expect…”

“I just want to lie here with you.” He slid in and pulled her against him, cradling her head on his shoulder. For a few minutes neither of them spoke, just the audible sound of their breaths escaping as they both felt the familiar magnetism of the attraction that had brought them together in the first place.

He had one large hand at the small of her back and it felt as if his flesh was branding her skin. She was so acutely aware of him- her body was responding, even though her mind was telling her that this was not a clever idea.

Nothing had been resolved. The fact that he had made her tea meant nothing. He had not asked about the babies or how she was faring. She should tell him to leave. But she couldn’t. Where he was concerned, her willpower was non-existent. She needed him here.

The feeling of his long, lean muscles against her own fragility was intoxicating. She could feel the crisp dark hairs against her cheek. His scent, that potent cologne he wore assailed her nostrils. His legs were long and powerful and covered in hairs as dark as the ones on his head.

She could feel them on her skin. If she just moved her knee a few inches up, she would encounter his sex and from experienced, she knew how full it was. Her body grew so warm, her nipples became so erect that she thought they were going to explode.

He shifted then, tucking a hand beneath her chin so that he could look into her eyes.

“Better?”

“Yes.” She wanted to resist the answering passion stamped on his usually hard and cynical features. His wildly beautiful eyes were studying her with lazy indulgence, tracking over her features and lingering on her parted lips.

“I am going to make love to you.” He told her huskily.

“I don’t want you to.”

He simply laughed, his hand sliding between the lapel of her robe to capture her breast. A moan escaped her, and she had to clamp her teeth into her bottom lip to stop from crying out.

“is it hurting?” His eyes watched her face closely as he used his thumb to slide slowly over the rigid flesh.

“Yes.” She gasped. “No…” She shook her head wildly when he started to move his hand.

“Please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“They’re extremely sensitive,” she admitted, her body moving against his in an unconsciously provocative gesture.

“I know what to do.” Pushing her gently back against the pillows, he parted the robe and took it off. She stayed still as his eyes wandered over her breasts and further down where her pregnancy was obvious.

Lifting his head, he stared at her for a moment before lowering to her bosom. Janelle’s fingers gripped the sheets in anticipation. Her body was primed and ready and she could not wait any longer. She needed him. Needed his mouth on her.

He used his tongue to toy with the rigid flesh, using just the tip of it to moisten, his body reacting violently when she reacted to just his light touch.

His body hardened and swelled until his flesh was chafing against the cotton of his underwear. This was where he belonged, he thought as the madness started to invade his mind. The taste of her, the texture of her skin.

He had tried to erase her from his mind to no avail. Taking another woman to his bed had been impossible and he had tried. The last time was at the club when Chelsea had invited herself into his room.

His stomach had turned at even the thought of touching her and he had sent her packing. Because of her – because of the taste of the woman beneath him. He seized her nipple as if in punishment and relished the choppy sounds of her breath.

Her body arched towards his as he suckled hungrily. Transferring to the next nipple, he gave it the same thorough treatment before moving down to the bulge of her stomach.

There he hesitated, his head lifting to look at her.

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