Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
His large hands slowly start to remove the little scrap of material, revealing smooth, bare skin. He hisses in response, his eyes wild with lust and teetering on the edge of dangerous. “The fuck?” he whispers, almost to himself.
“I just needed a change. For me.”
“For you?” he asks, his words laced with jealousy. He couldn’t possibly be thinking I’d do this for someone else, could he?
“Yes, for me. I needed to feel alive.”
His eyes turn molten. “Baby, I’m going to show you just how alive you are.”
My panties slide down my legs and are tossed somewhere in the room. Before I can even take a breath, his mouth descends on my core. My entire body sparks to life with the first swipe of his tongue. He devours my flesh, licking and sucking, and bringing me right to the edge of an orgasm. I’m a livewire, energy and desire coursing through me recklessly. He slides his tongue into my wetness and gently rolls my clit, causing me to detonate immediately. My thighs clamp around his head as I ride wave after wave of pleasure.
Barely given any time to recoup from my orgasm, Harrison stands up and removes the rest of his clothes. He never takes his eyes off me as I lie boneless and panting from my first release. Anticipation slides through me because if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that more will follow. Harrison never gives them out in anything less than multiples. He’s crazy talented in the orgasm-giving department.
The moment he’s completely naked, he slides back in bed, climbing on top of me. His touch is gentle as he caresses my jaw, running his hand down my neck. When he gets to my heart, he pauses. I know what he’s looking at. Pain ricochets through my body as the memories come flooding back. The simple H tattoo that I had inked over my heart on our honeymoon. It matches the one he had put on his hand. While I wanted to keep mine private, something just for him or me to see, he chose to put his right in the soft skin between his thumb and first finger. Somewhere he could always see it.
His eyes flash to mine, a mixture of angst and fury. Not at me, I know. He has never directed any of his anger my way. At the situation. Our situation. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Those dark eyes soften and hold mine as he slowly bends down and places his lips on my chest. Right over my heart. Right over the letter that stands for him. I have to fight the tears that burn my eyes. I will not cry. Not anymore.
It’s over.
As if to gently remind me that it’s anything but, his chiseled features take on a determination I haven’t seen in a while. His hands move to my thighs as he repositions himself between them. Something’s different, but I don’t know what. I can’t figure it out. My mind won’t even begin to wrap around this weird sense of purpose that settles in. It’s as if this isn’t just sex, as if something greater is about to happen.
I should stop this. I should. But I don’t.
I can’t.
I need him too much.
Want him more than I ever have.
We’re about to do something we can never go back from, but I can’t seem to find an ounce of care. I’ll deal with the consequences later, and something tells me there’ll be plenty of those. Right now, I just need him. I need the old Harrison. I need to forget the hurt and the nights alone. I just want to… remember.
“Please,” I beg, my voice husky and needy.
Harrison reaches down and positions himself between my legs. I can feel the tip of his cock slide against my clit, jolts of pleasure rippling through my body. “You’re sure?” he asks, his eyes burning with intensity and desire.
“Yes.”
When that one word falls from my lips, he thrusts, filling me so completely that it steals the very air I breathe. I gasp his name, my body tight with the need to come once more. He’s so big, bigger than I remember, but it feels like something else, something more. Home. I fight the tears, willing them away. I refuse to be the weak woman, the one who caves and takes him back. We didn’t work. We proved that. But this? Sex, intimacy, it always worked.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, holding completely still and letting me adjust to his size. “I gotta move, baby.” It comes out a pant, a plea.
“Yes, move. Move, Harrison.”
And he does. He pulls almost completely out and pivots his hips once more. From the beginning, he sets a hard pace. The bed slams into the wall, the painting above our heads shakes, but I don’t care. This. This is all I care about, at least for now. The feel of his body pressing me into the mattress, the feel of his skin sliding against mine.