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“Fuck it,” I breathed out before lifting up on my toes and pressing my lips to his.
The moment our mouths touched; it fanned the flames of desire burning me from the inside out. No, not desire, desperation. Being with Harlan was different than anyone I’d ever had sex with. It consumed me. I didn’t think about the cellulite on the back of my thighs, or if there was a roll in my stomach, or the fact that my right breast hung slightly lower than my left.
My mind didn’t spiral, wondering about what he was thinking or if I was turning him on. The moment he touched me, or even just looked into my eyes, all of the voices of doubt in my head quieted. I wasn’t worried about pleasing him or if he thought I was sexy. I just felt. That was it. All feeling. It was a connection that I didn’t take for granted since I’d never experienced it before. Not in the four long-term relationships, and not in the handful of situationships I’d had. He was the only man who had ever made me feel totally myself, totally seen, and totally desired.
And this was temporary. It was ending.
Tears pricked my eyes as he pulled my shirt up and off my head. When the material dropped to the floor, he cupped my face in his hands and tilted my head up.
Instead of lowering down and kissing me again, he must have seen the emotion in my eyes because he stilled as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
I sniffed and pasted a fake smile on my face. “Nothing.”
His brow furrowed in concern. “We don’t have to?—”
“No. I want to. It’s not that. I’m just…I’m going to miss you.”
His jaw clenched, and he inhaled through his nose. I could see the pain I was feeling mirrored in his expression, in his eyes, in his energy.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. One hand ran up and down my back, and one hand cradled my head against his chest. I could feel his heart pounding against my cheek as he kissed the top of my head, just like he had the first time we were together in the barn.
This was what I’d miss the most. Not the greatest mind-blowing orgasms I’d ever had, or even the best friend I’d found in him; it was the safety, the security, the complete acceptance, and the peace I felt when he held me.
I’d never been a big hugger, but that was before I’d had a Harlan Mitchell hug. Nothing would ever compare to this. His hugs healed me. They fixed broken parts of me that I didn’t even know needed fixing. I couldn’t tell you how long he stood there, holding me, his hands roaming up and down my back as I buried my face against his chest and held him for dear life. I had a back-of-a-motorcycle-going-ninety-around-corners grip on this man.
After absorbing all of the security, safety, and, dare I say it, love that I could possibly handle, my emotional state began to shift, and I started becoming much more aware of my physical state. Tension began to build between my legs as Harlan’sroughened fingertips brushed against my bare back, dipping a little lower and caressing my ass.
The energy between us crackled with pent-up sexual need. It had been so difficult for me to keep my hands off of Harlan these past few weeks, but somehow, we’d managed to maintain the parameters I’d put in place. But now all of that repressed desire was bubbling over, like the time I accidentally put dish soap in the washing machine when I was five and needed clean clothes for school. There were suds everywhere, and they just kept multiplying, much like the desire between us now.
I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt it. The hard evidence that I wasn’t alone in my yearning was pressing firmly against my stomach.
“Harlan,” I whispered needily as I lifted my head up to him.
My plea did not go unanswered. He picked me up and carried me to the couch, then lowered me down and tugged my sweats and underwear off. He began by kissing my ankles, then calves, alternating his attention from left to right. I watched as he worked his way up my legs. The farther up he got, the more tingles spread through my core. His lips and tongue flirted with my inner thighs. He was teasing me more than actually kissing me, which only enhanced my eager anticipation.
When he finally reached my sex, I was so close to coming that when I felt his breath fan my feminine lips, my body spasmed with the beginnings of release. My reaction wasn’t because of the past thirty minutes; it was the past month that had felt like a long session of foreplay.
I worried the second he touched me, I was going to explode. He ran his fingers up and down my folds. They slid easily as he spread my arousal with each pass. Tingles whirled in my core as he spread me apart. Using just the tip of his tongue, he flicked it lightly across my swollen clit with barely-there, featherlight pressure. Teasing me to the point of madness.
In desperation, I arched my back, trying to press my body into his mouth, seeking the fulfillment my body ached for. His left hand gripped my hip, holding me in place. His tongue kept me balancing on the edge of release, dancing on the precipice of orgasm, torturing me with every lick.
Each flick sent me closer to oblivion until, finally, he flattened his tongue and rolled it against my pleasure button, and a burst of ecstasy exploded in my core. Tingling bliss spread through my limbs as I reached my threshold of passion.
I closed my eyes and tried to memorize everything about this moment. The sound of the rain against the window. The smell of Harlan’s musk. The feel of his face kissing me between my thighs as his fingers dug into my hip. I knew that this was a moment I’d want to remember not just tomorrow or the next day, or even next week or next month, but forever. I wanted to remember this feeling, this moment and this night forever.
38
HARLAN
Daphne’s bodyquivered beneath me as she recovered from her release while I took my time, kissing every inch of her body. When I finally reached her mouth, I covered it with mine. Her tongue slid into my mouth, deepening our kiss. She met me, lick for lick. My cock swelled painfully at the thought that she could taste herself on me.
In all the times we’d been together, I’d never been able to take my time with her, to explore her body and allow her to explore mine. The first night we were together was in the barn. We barely knew one another. The second night was under the pier. We were in public, and I had to listen for people who might see us. Tonight was different, and I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity I’d been given to be with her. I did not take this night for granted. If this was going to be the last time we were together, I didn’t want it to be on a couch like we were teenagers.
“I want you in a bed,” I groaned into her mouth.
Her lips curled against mine. “Then take me to bed.”
I moved off the couch and stood, scooping her up in my arms. She nestled her face in the crook of my shoulder as her arms wrapped around my neck, and she let out a little giggle.I headed up the steps with urgency roaring inside of me as arousal swirled, whipping through me with tornado force. When I reached the top of the staircase, I realized I had no clue which room she was staying in. She must have sensed my hesitancy, or she could read my mind.
