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“Harrison?”
He cleared his throat to hide the effect she was having on him. He thought it might be awkward revisiting this part of his past, but nothing had ever felt so natural.
“Goddamn, you’re sexy.” He caught her booted foot and brought it to his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on the tender flesh of her thigh.
Her smile softened and she stretched languidly beneath him, not a single reservation in her whiskey brown eyes. Crawling over her, bending her body beneath his, he traced his tongue along her throat.
A fist gripped in his hair, demanding his attention, and he looked at her. “Don’t hold back, Harrison.”
He never could when it came to Mariella. “I won’t.”
He gripped the tender flesh of her ass and squeezed, dropping his mouth to her breasts and sucking her nipples into hard points. Her body was familiar, and there was a sense of nostalgic homecoming that unraveled as he explored and relearned her curves. He savored every exposed inch of beauty laid out before him, and she responded in kind.
Their bodies came together like lyrics of a song, harmonizing with perfect memory. He filled her and she surrounded him, every inch of his skin buzzing with the awareness that this was Mariella in his arms again.
Very little could soften the nostalgic pain of this place, but this—he and Mariella—that had been what he missed most when he’d left. That had been the hardest temptation to leave behind.
Her body was a symphony he conducted. Every sway of his hips and strum of his fingers brought about a new song of pleasure from her lips. She preened and purred for him, begged for more and wept in delight when he delivered.
She was the only instrument he’d been born to play, and after all these years, he still knew her by heart. They moved like poetry, sometimes frantic and hard, other times slow and indulgent.
Their palpable connection filled his chest like a heavy breath, lodging in his throat until he could barely breathe. What was it about Mariella that made her so different from all the others?
She got the real him. The raw him. The side other women didn’t know or take the time to find. There was something unique about her that drew out his secrets, unraveled his vulnerable sides, and let him simply exist exactly as he was. No facades. No false promises. Just them.
When she held his face and looked into his eyes, he didn’t shy away. For some reason he let her touch him that way, despite the sharp sting of intimacy or the fear that she might see something cowardice or ugly inside of him.
Maybe he allowed it because he knew she’d looked there before. He believed she sensed the secrets he’d kept hidden, but she also respected his need for secrecy, then as much as now.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, the delicate confession a fragile truth he wanted to handle with care.
“I missed you too.” He hadn’t lied when he said he thought about her. But she was a memory he didn’t easily allow. Of all the things he ran away from in Jasper Falls, Mariella was the one temptation he struggled to leave behind.
Their connection startled him, though it shouldn’t have. There was always something more about them. Something right. It was like they were a part of each other, and ten years apart had done nothing to change that fact.
He rolled their bodies, pulling her over him. Cradling her on his lap, her sweat-glistening skin pressing tight to his, he held her close and kissed her hard as she rode him. Chest to chest, there wasn’t much space to move, but he wanted that restrictive contact, needed to feel her with him, tight and tense, her welcoming body against his hard edges.
They could stretch out or reposition, but that wasn’t how he liked it with her. Unlike with the others, when it came to Mariella, he wanted her as close as possible. He wanted to consume her and be consumed.
No one else had ever been able to give this much to him. Or was she taking? Either way, he fucking loved it.
“God, I missed this.” He squeezed her closer, biting her shoulder.
Her nails scraped over his back and raked through his hair, sending chills from his scalp down his spine. “It’s so good between us.”
“We’re great like this.” He caught her hips and pulled her down on him, holding her in place. “Feel that, how perfectly we fit together. I want to die like this.”
She laughed, her breathy chuckle a sensual tease along his flesh. “Please don’t. I’m not finished yet.”
He kissed her hard and toppled her to the bed. “Oh, I’m far from finished.”
Their mouths collided in desperate need, a million lost minutes to make up when they only had this fleeting moment available to them. She was a rush, a euphoric chill, an endless quiver that mimicked all a man could feel on the precipice of ecstasy.
