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“Yes, fuck yes!” she cried. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip seconds before he felt the first wave of spasms along her inner walls. She opened her mouth with an uninhibited cry of pleasure.
His balls lifted and tightened, his only warning before the first shuddering bursts of his release struck him with brutal force. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, never letting up his pace, wanting every second to count, to have impact. Each wave of searing joy was drawn out by the tight hold of her greedy pussy. He groaned long and low as he rode out the last vestiges of his climax.
Slowly, he unwound her hair from his fist and breathed deep. The musky scent of their lovemaking filled the air. Gently, he lowered her limp body to the bed. “Let yourself fall, sweetness.” He eased himself from her warmth and allowed a slight smile at her soft groan. The now faint light in the room gave only a hint of her damp skin. His fingers trailed a line from her shoulder to her hip, feeling the wetness, the heat—all testimony to the thoroughness of his taking.
Harper turned her face to the side, blinking up at him. “Seth.” She swallowed against her croaky voice. No wonder. How many times had she cried out? And he’d fucking loved every moment, every desperate sound and pleading note.
He lowered his head next to hers and spoke in a low voice. “Now you’re home.” His kiss was hot and demanding, further imprinting his dominance. And the way she opened her mouth and accepted him cemented his claim.
Ending their kiss, he traced his tongue over her shoulder, tasting the saltiness of sweat. Her satisfied sigh turned low, pleasured, as his teeth nipped the skin near the base of her throat. “Back in a minute.”
After quick trip to the bathroom, he was back in bed, using a warm washcloth to clean her. Seconds later, he had the sweet woman in his arms, her sleepy form cuddled against him. Listening to her gentle breathing, he hoped the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling would lull him into the same easy restfulness. But sleep evaded him. His mind was crowded with competing thoughts. Where did he start? The shocking arrival of Lincoln and how to navigate a path towards, hell…something meaningful with his brother? Catching the bastard who wanted to ruin his family?
His sigh seemed to drain out his last remnants of energy. The one thing he was certain of was the woman lying beside him was a treasure he wanted to hang on to. And yet, his frustration with everything happening around him—and feeling cornered, pressured for answers—meant he craved space, a few minutes to think.
Anybody, especially a woman who already felt vulnerable and exposed emotionally and physically, could take that isolation as rejection.
If he didn’t play this smart, he risked alienating the one person who, right now, he wanted and needed in his life the most.
