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“I don’t have anything for a king,” I murmur. “I can’t sleep. I can’t stay in one place. I’m just a girl from Orange County.”
“Then I’ll stay up with you all night. And in the morning, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
He crushes my lips to his, his grip on the back of my neck desperate. As if he needs this to keep breathing.
In this moment, I need him too.
I know what it’s like to lose him. This past week, I was losing him all over again before my eyes. I tried to keep doing my job, to appreciate everything I’ve built for myself, but nothing felt the same without having this man to talk to, to laugh with, even argue with.
“Make me yours,” I murmur against his mouth.
His hands slick down my back to my hips. He grinds against the panel of my panties, where my wetness mingles with the bath.
Harrison’s touch slips under my bra to squeeze my breast. I arch into the pressure, tortured by his rough palm and the pinch of his fingers on my pebbled nipple.
Every ridge and plane under my touch is perfect. I stroke down to brush his cock, the silky hardness of him. He catches my hand, forcing my exploratory touch to still. Then he threads his fingers through my hair.
The intensity on his face overwhelms me. Emotions so vivid I never thought I’d see them on this man.
Regret.
Devotion.
Love.
He drags my underwear to the side to position his cock. The first stroke makes me gasp. He fills me so tightly, rubbing against that magical place. I’m drenched.
My hips buck into his, seeking more friction. He grabs my waist and grinds in a slow circle. The intensity of his gaze makes my blood pound.
My hands slip as I try to grab the side of the bath. I fall forward, braced against his hard chest. My knees wedge themselves on either side of his torso, squeezing as he fills me with a long, deep thrust.
He’s attuned to every breath, every twitch I make. All the emotions of the past week, the frustration and worry, evaporate in the steam. His humility is still there, but it’s twined with determination. Conviction that he can give us both what we need.
We’re making a mess of the bathroom.
I don’t care.
I cup his face, soaking up his look of devotion before I kiss him hard. Harrison lets me take control of his lips, his tongue. Below, he’s driving the rhythm of our coupling.
My knuckles dig into his shoulders as he fucks me, as I meet him stroke for stroke.
His hands knead my ass, building the pressure inside. His fingers drift between my cheeks, my breath hitches. When one presses behind where we’re joined inside, I gasp into his mouth.
Nerve endings light up my entire body. It’s surprisingly intense but feels so good. It’s not something we’ve done before, but I can feel his need to assure himself I’m his, all of me.
“You okay?” he murmurs, pulling back to assess my reaction.
“Yeah.” I’m breathless and dazed by the rush of sensation. “I want to know what this feels like.”
Harrison rubs me in slow circles, a look of satisfaction and fascination on his face. The pleasure builds until I can’t catch my breath, and when he adds more pressure, his finger slipping inside, I gasp against his lips.
I can’t believe I’m allowing this. I can’t believe I’m enjoying it.
He strokes my ass, adding a second finger which only makes me clench around him harder.
“Oh my God.”
He slants his mouth over mine, curving his tongue to suit my silent demands. His hips roll, his hands knead, and the pressure within me builds. I sink my teeth into his lower lip, plundering his mouth, devouring him again and again.
