Page 44 of Harry

The shadow of his uncle had stood there inside the house for too many years to count. He stirred from the memories to see Shep staring up at him as if wondering what was happening.

“Just woolgathering.” He lifted his head at the sound of the wind whistling through the leaves.

“Figure she’s asleep by now?”

The dog let out a whimper as if he knew what was happening.

“I sure hope so. Okay, one more round with the stick and then it’s time to go. I’m freezing my ass off.”

She was asleep. Curled up on her side, her hands cradling her cheek. He had settled Shep for the night and lingered in the kitchen, fixing himself a half a glass of whiskey before venturing into the bedroom.

Standing next to the bed, he let his eyes roam over her face and felt the hard kick of desire nudging at him. It was going to be hell for him to go to sleep lying next to her.

But he was bloody well going to try. Sitting on the sofa, he tugged off his boots and rose to take off his clothes. Playing it safe, he went to the closet and took out a pair of sweats to cover his nakedness. Hopefully, this would serve as some sort of protection. He had his doubts, but one could always hope.

*****

He woke up the next morning, violently aroused. At first he thought it was the most erotic dream he ever had and was loath to wake up and discover that it was just that – a dream. Fingers were moving over his balls, slowly, drifting up to the incredibly hard length of him.

His eyes flickered open and he was so disoriented that he had no idea where he was, until those clever fingers circled the reddened tip of him with tormenting slowness designed to drive him crazy.

“Jan- Christ Almighty!” His head burrowed into the pillows, and he had to clench his teeth to stop from crying out. And that was before she took him deep into her mouth.

He started chanting. His fingers gripped the quilt to try and anchor himself. The top of his head was bursting and about to blow. He could not think. Everything had faded leaving sensations, feelings- passion flooded him like a raging storm.

His hips lifted and rotated and the sound of his heart pounding inside his chest was so loud, it drowned out everything else. He had to stop her. He was about to explode, and he had to stop her.His limbs were not cooperating. He was weak, his body one big mass of emotions that poured through him like lava.

Letting go of the quilt; he somehow found the strength to push himself up. Having done that, he clamped his hands on her shoulders and hauled her up. But he was not in control. With a determined look on her beautiful face, she pushed him back and straddled him.

Emotions collided, his eyes went dark and then blind as she covered his body and sheathed him completely. He went still, his heart beating so hard, his blood so hot, he felt as if he was boiling from the inside. He had been with many women – too many to count and sex had been an escape – one he had always been in control of.

His heart had been carefully shielded, with only his body involved. But never in his entire life had he ever felt like this. His breath was lodged somewhere inside his throat and reasonable thinking had fled.

His cock was so hard, he would not be surprised if the slightest movement from either of them would not break it clean in two.She made the first move, and it was so unexpected, he was driven further into insanity.

Cupping her left breast, she offered it to him. In a daze, he hauled himself up and took it, clamping the rigid flesh between his teeth. His control broke just then, and he started suckling like a man who had been denied a meal for months. He was going to hurt her, bloody hell! If he wasn’t going to.

He moved inside her when he transferred to the next nipple and by that time, they were both so carried away that they could feel nothing else. Think of nothing else. Sensations rocked them, spinning them off their axis, pitching them in its fury. Her nails bit into his shoulders, his back and dragged at his hair.

Harry tried to hold onto the sliver of reasoning. The voice inside his head was telling him to take it easy, reminding him that he had only just found her on the floor, as sick as a dog, but the passion was too strong.

The desire too dark. She had unleashed something inside him that he could not put back into the box or wherever the hell it had escaped from.

He wanted to devour, swallow her whole, he drove into her with the need to touch her very soul, to possess her, empty himself of the horror of his past. To make her his – she was his – she belonged to him, and he wanted her to acknowledge it. To own it.

Dragging his mouth from her sore nipple, he lifted his head, one hand clamping around her neck, his thumb pressing against the hollow there. His expression was fierce with passion, his eyes blazing with it.

“You belong to me.” His voice was thick.

“Yes.” She whispered huskily.

“Say it. Say the words. I need to hear them.” The madness was increasing, and he felt the climax building in their bodies.

“I belong to you!” It ended on a cry as her body bucked and shivered.

With a grunt, he reached between them. It took one touch of his fingers on her sensitive nubbin, and she was flying, crying out his name.

“Again.” He was ruthless and before she could recover, she was climaxing, the violence of it punching through her body like a tidal wave. It was only then he was satisfied to let go and when he did, he could not stop.

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