Page 100 of True North

“Yeah, you do, Lou. You just took a while to realize it.”

My face falls.

Only Harry would know the self-consciousness I deal with, the anxiety that holds me hostage every time I want something. He is the one good thing I’ve never let myself have. Not in the last ten years. As if my heart knew how good a man he is. Screaming for me to stay away, unless I ruin him, too.

I scrunch my nose up to stave off tears.

Good lord, I’m a mess.

I put it down to the last few months. Nothing about it’s been easy or drama-free.

As I settle into studying Harry’s gaze, I’m hopeful for the future, down deep in my heart and soul. The kind of hope that lets you know, whatever happens in life, I will be okay, because I will be with him.

I will have him by my side.

No matter what.

Before emotion takes me under and sucks me in an undercurrent I can’t escape, I palm his face. His rough stubble is heaven under my fingertips.

“Well, in that case, I will spend the rest of my days showing you how much you deserve this woman and this life you want so much.”

He chuckles and pulls my mouth to his.

“You’re on, little lady.”

I wriggle my hips, my only weapon left after his confession. His blues darken immediately, and his tongue is wanting in. I rock my hips, and the bliss grows instantly.

“Fu-uck, Lou.”

I rise to my knees until his tip only just remains inside me. This right here, the way his face is all strung out, the sweet agony of having himright there, I’m savoring it.

It’s only when fiery blues find me do I lower, only a little. A half snarl leaves his lips as rough hands snap to my hips, and he slams me downward.

“Ahh—Har—” Eyes closing, my head falls back as I arch into him. The whimpers keep fallin’ as he thunders up into me, his pace unrelenting.

His lips close around a nipple, and the mewl falling from my throat is raw.

Feral.

“Deeper, Louisa May?”

I nod my head furiously, not able to breathe a word.

Harry shifts, grabbing me around the waist. He kneels before resting back on his heels. I’m still above him, but he is impossibly deep. I can barely rise all the way up.

“Fuckme. So damn tight.”

It’s all I can do to stay upright on trembling legs as he thrusts hard. I grip his shoulder with one hand, the other fisted in his hair.

I open my mouth to say something, I don’t even know what, but every last syllable, thought, evaporates with each new, harsh thrust. Harry’s all hard stomach, muscular legs, corded forearms. I’m a puddle of something unrecognizable in his hold.

Lightning fires, short-circuiting each nerve in my body as he hits something so deep. There is no air left. I gasp, desperate for more, not caring I’m drowning in him.

I cry out when his hand leaves my hip and his thumb brushes over my clit.

Oh god.

“Lou, come for me. I need to feel you fall apart.”

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