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"Your skin has never felt like sandpaper. Probably not a day in your life. And I know for certain it doesn't now. But I want to
put it on for you." He drawls and the sound washes over me like the butter on hot bread. I soak it up.
Intravenous drips, rats nest hair, oily face and all be damned. My body wakes the fuck up and I can only watch, my mouth dry and my heart tripping over itself, as he strides over to the door, only getting close enough to stick his foot out and kick it shut.
When he turns around to look at me, he's already pouring the lotion into one hand. The white creamy liquid pooling in his palm.
"Pull your sheets back, babe."
I do it. Even before he's finished asking my legs are exposed.
He walks over and sit down, leans forward and presses a kiss to my mouth, but when I try to kiss him back, he pulls away. "No. Later.”
He steps back shaking his head at me, his frown, his creased brow say he meant that as a reprimand, the desire in his eyes and the rapid rise of his chest say that he regrets having to stop.
He stops at my feet. “I wish we were back in my hotel room. I would peel you out of that fucking gown and make a meal of you." His voice is low, throaty, and sexy as all fuck. I gasp and my pussy does a cartwheel. He rubs his palms together and starts at my toes, massaging the lotion into each one. His eyes come up to mine and he holds my gaze and reminds me what a filthy mouth he has.
"I want to put my face in between your legs and rub it in your cunt. I want you to pull my hair and scream my name while you come over and over again. I want to live in the golden palace of your pussy. You taste so good.” He closes his eyes for a few seconds, as if he’s watching a mental image of what he’s describing. My breathing is labored, my whole body is vibrating. It’s crazy to have this kind of chemistry with someone I’ve known for such a short time. Oh, I feel dangerously giddy.
His grin widens. “Did you like it when I nipped your clit that night in my room?” His eyes travel up my legs. He strokes the arch of my foot and when I wriggle it away because it tickles, he clamps it in his fist. "You have such small feet for such a tall woman." He says as he presses his knuckle in to my arch.
"Ah, that feels good." I murmur. "It's from my dad's side of the family. He's six foot two, but he only wears a size 9.5 shoe. His mother was five foot eleven, taller than me even and her shoes are too small for me to wear." I say uselessly.
He lifts my foot to his face and presses his nose into my instep. "That's stuff smells nice." He says absentmindedly, “I can see why you like it. Are you partial to citrus?" His nose moves up into the soft dip on the top of my ankle. He presses a kiss there before he puts my leg back down.
"Harry?" I say, not sure what else I have to add.
"You've got great legs. So toned. You run?" he asks as he caresses and kneads my calves.
“I used to swim a lot,” I murmur lazily.
All of the blood in my body seems to be rising to meet his touch, I feel a trail of heat in the wake of his touch.
"I like touching you. Almost as much as I like fucking you. And I like that almost as much as I love kissing you."
My lips feel dry. The heat in his eyes ignites a fire in my veins.
"I can't wait for you to get better so I can fuck you again. You liked it when I took control and lifted you up and down on my cock " His hands round my knees. And his head snaps up, his dark eyes smoldering almost black with lust. I remember how he’d lifted me like I weighed nothing, over and over again, impaling me on his cock until I came so hard I blacked out for a second.
"Didn’t you?" He prods and his fingers tightening the grasp as he pushes his hand up my thigh.
I nod. He holds my gaze, as his hand massages my thighs.
"You don’t want to be in control, do you? You want to let go and not think. To maybe have a chance to just be taken care of?”
I nod. But my eyebrow lifts quizzically.
"How do I know?" He asks as if I'd spoken aloud.
“Yes, how do you know so much?”
I laugh, so genuinely pleased by his insight.
"A fucking conundrum. But I’m determined to figure it out. So I watch you very closely." His hands trail back down to my knees.
"If I touched your pussy..." he says pussy slowly, hungrily. I want him to fuck me, right now. Malaria be damned. "You'd be soaking wet. Am I right?" His voice is almost a whisper.
I nod.
