Page 98 of A Wicked Game

“God, Harry.”

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her throat, a whisper of sensation, and she shuddered with need. Still holding her hips, he rained kisses on her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin, and then dropped his head and drew her nipple into his mouth.

She sucked in a wondrous breath.

His hands slid upward, molding the curve of her waist, testing the bumps of her ribs until they swept round to cup her breasts. Harriet arched her back, wordlessly offering herself, and he teased her with his tongue, swirling and tugging on her nipple until she writhed in frustration.

He cupped her bottom, fingers splaying wide over her skin, and she realized his erection was right there, below her. Achingly close.

But instead of lowering her down, he slid his hand between her legs, and she groaned in need as he played and teased. He reclaimed her mouth, kissing her deeply as his fingers entered her in a slow, decadent slide.

Her blood felt as if it was on fire. She rocked her hips, urging him to continue the delicious torture. He was like a fever, an infection she might never recover from. Neverwantedto recover from.

The hungry swirls of his tongue matched the movement of his fingers and she writhed, instinctively trying to hit the spot that felt good. Just when she thought she could take it no more, he withdrew his hand and reachedbetween them, positioning his cock at the slick entrance to her body.

They both stilled. Harriet was shaky with need, her heart pounding, as she opened her eyes and met his stare.

“Lower yourself down,” he rasped. “Take me. It’s up to you.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Harriet held Morgan’s gaze as she slowly,slowly, did as he commanded. The tip of him slid inside her and she hissed out a breath at the absolute miracle of the feeling.

His eyes were completely black, his pupils huge, and she had the strangest sensation of falling, of being sucked down, fathoms deep. She wrapped her arms around his neck and watched a muscle tick in his jaw as she slid an inch lower.

Her own eyes almost rolled back in her head. He’d been inside her before, but the angle of this position was completely different. Here, she could control the depth of his penetration. Her inner muscles squeezed him, fluttering and clenching as if to pull him even deeper, and she sank even lower, drawing a tortured groan from his chest.

“Oh, God, don’t stop. You feel so good.”

As if he couldn’t help himself, he rolled his hips and slid fully home, and Harriet gasped at the utter perfection of the fit. There was none of the discomfort of last time. It was like diving into the ocean and feeling the water conform exactly to her skin.Howit worked was a mystery, but the astonishing, irrefutable fact was that he was inside her, joined to her, body to body, heart to heart.

Soul to soul.

She’d never felt more connected to anyone in her life.

And then he began to move. Harriet dropped her forehead to his as he guided her along his length and she caught the rhythm, moving up and down with breath-stealing deliberation. Pleasure rippled along her limbs as he rubbed a spot inside her, and she chased the feeling, grinding her hips shamelessly as the sensation wound her tighter and tighter.

She closed her eyes, straining to reach the highest peak, and with a glorious rush the pleasure caught up with her, pitching her off the edge of the world and into throbbing, blood-singing ecstasy.

Morgan thrust once, twice, then pulled out of her. He pressed himself hard against her thigh and she felt his body convulse as he, too, found his climax with her name on his lips.

Utterly spent, as weak and as boneless as if she’d survived a shipwreck, she dropped her head to his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his sweat-slick skin.

It took several minutes for her heart to return to something approximating a normal rhythm, but eventually she lifted her head and sent Morgan a sleepy smile.

“So much for trying out the bed.”

Morgan let out a sigh of utter repletion. “Maybe next time. You, Harriet Montgomery, lead a man disastrously off course.”

“Like my maps,” she teased.

He shook his head and moved her from his lap, gently disengaging their bodies. Her legs were shaky when she stood, and she blushed when he reached down and dealt with the wetness he’d left on her skin with brisk efficiency.

Her heart gave an odd little flip as she realized he hadn’t finished inside her. Tonight’s adventures wouldn’t result in a baby. The thought of bearing Morgan’s children made her heart sing, but for purely selfish reasons she wanted him to herself for a little while.

“We’d better get married quickly,” she said. “I want to keep on doing that with you without having to sneak around.”

Morgan smiled as he ushered her over to the bed and drew back the sheets, gesturing for her to get in. She did so, and he slid in beside her, gathering her into his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Harriet bit back a sigh of utter happiness.

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