“Are you burning for me yet?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, surprised I’m still able to form words.
“I’d like to make you come like this.”
There have only been a few men who have attempted that, and I always ended up faking my pleasure. Of course, I’m an expert at faking. But I don’t want to fake with Harris.
“You’re tensing up,” he says. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, I’m just...” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be broken.”
He places one last kiss on my kneecap, and then he joins me on the bed and pats a pillow. “Come up here.”
I join him, aware as I do of the storm brewing in his eyes. It’s a look of restrained longing and seeing it reignites my own. He props himself up on one elbow and his fingers circle my nipple.
“I’m going to explore every inch of you. We’re both going to discover what turns you on.” He runs his fingertip across my pebbled skin. “Because you are many, many things, but broken isn’t one of them.”
He starts slowly, touching and teasing me with light strokes everywhere. He’s not in any hurry, and I feel my apprehension fade away, only to be replaced with a growing need. He explores my arms and my legs and other places I never thought of as sexy.
“Oh, yes,” he says when he finds at spot that makes me thrash my head. “That spot makes you feel it deep inside doesn’t it?”
It’s only the crook of my elbow, but all he has to do is lick it and I almost come undone. “Yes.”
“Wonder what would happen if I bit it?”
I can’t even make a word when he does. I mumble something that makes no sense. He lifts his head and comes back up to kiss me and then settles into place at my side. I’m a quivering mess of desire and I’m going to explode when he touches me where I most want him to.
He drags one finger down my chest, across my belly, and I start to think Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop because I think I know where he’s going. The finger stops when it reaches my panties.
“I need you to take them off if you want me to continue,” he says. “I think we’ve proven that you’re not broken, and we don't have to go any further if you don’t want to.”
I take the panties off in less than three seconds.
He murmurs his approval and gets back into position by my side, his one hand still resting on my belly.
“I’m going to touch you more intimately now, are you okay with that?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to make you come with my fingers.” His voice is rough. “Look at me while I pleasure you.”
I open my eyes and meet his gaze right as his hand restarts its journey downward.
“I’m going to tease you until you’re mad with lust, and then I’m going to dip my fingers deep inside you. Make you want me inside you so bad you don’t think you’ll be able to breathe without it.”
“Yes, please. Now.”
My hips lift off the bed when he circles that needy part of me, but I keep my eyes on his.
“Mmm, someone liked that,” he says, doing it again.
Pretty soon, we start a rhythm. He teases my clit, and I jerk my hips, trying to get him inside me. I feel something building, and his gaze locks onto mine as he slowly sinks two fingers deep within me.
“Feel my fingers?” he asks. “My cock is bigger, and it’s so goddamn hard.”
Dirty talk has never really done anything for me before. It’s always come across as crass . Men talking to get themselves more aroused. But when Harris speaks, looking me straight in the eyes, I feel his words. More than that, I want to feel him.
Then his thumb stars rubbing my clit while he thrust his fingers in and out, and all coherent thought leaves my head.
“Oh, God, Harris.” My eyes close as an unfamiliar feeling builds.
“Open your eyes, Athena.” His voice is thick with emotion. “I want to see your eyes when I make you come. I want you to see what your pleasure does to me.”
I want to tell him he’s talking crazy. How could my pleasure do anything to him? But I open my eyes, and I see I’m wrong. His expression is one of need and desire, surely, but I can tell it’s more than what he’s doing that makes him that way. It’s watching me. My pleasure, my reactions are turning him on.
The building tide of my release is growing closer, and his fingers are good, but I want more. “Need you,” I say.
“You have to come first,” he says. “Trust me. It’s killing me as much as it is you to wait. But you’re going to come before I even think of getting inside you.” He sinks his fingers in deeper. “You’re so hot around my fingers. I can’t wait to feel that heat around my dick. I’ll probably go fucking insane.”
He moves his fingers slightly, and it’s so close. I feel it building and growing, and I’m desperate to reach it. His whispers encourage me, and my eyes nearly roll back into my head when the most incredible tempest of pleasure overtakes my body.
Something inside me shatters, and I’m not sure I’m even breathing as wave after wave crashes within my body. I’m muttering nonsense, and as my world tilts back to normal, Harris is kissing my cheek.
“I’ve never seen anything more perfect,” he whispers.
“Oh my God.” My body is still weak from this first orgasm, and I suddenly feel shy, which is the most absurd thing ever. I snort out a sob and a giggle at the same time.
He strokes my hair and captures my gaze. “Okay?”
“So much more than okay. I didn’t know it could be like that.”
Shock flickers across his expression, but I don’t want to talk it about. I feel him hard and heavy against my thigh, and I want that feeling again, with him inside me this time. I reach down and stroke him.
“Now, Caden.”
He waits only long enough to roll on a condom, and then he’s between my legs and guiding himself to where I’m wet and needy. I bend my knees, giving him better access. My eyes close when I feel him brush his tip against me.
“Keep them open,” he says. “I need your eyes on me.”
Watching him as he enters me makes me feel more exposed than anything I’ve ever done, but I see the vulnerability in his expression, too, and I realize there are two of us. And we’re together, and it’s the most obvious thing, but I’ve never viewed sex as an act you do together. It’s always been something done to me.
There’s an ache of pure joy deep inside my soul when he’s fully inside me, and he sees it and lowers his head so our foreheads touch.
“Athena,” he whispers.
“You make me happy,” I say, and I know it sounds silly, but they’re the truest words I’ve ever spoken.
He raises himself so he’s propped above me on one arm, and suddenly there aren’t any words that fit the moment. He takes my hand with his free one and entwines our fingers. And he starts to move.
Oh.
My.
God.
It’d been incredible with his fingers, but now, like this....
Somehow, without even knowing, I’d locked a part of me away ten years ago. With his patience and honesty and gentleness, Harris had just taken the key and set it free.
Free. I squeeze his fingers and wrap my legs around his waist, anchoring myself to him as if the truth twists back into place and became crystal clear for the first time in ten years.
“Hold me,” I whisper, fearing I’ll take flight if he doesn’t keep me grounded.
The wave is coming back, and it’s even bigger, but that’s okay because he’s with me this time, and he’s not leaving. His back arches above me. He’s moving, and I’m moving with him, and it’s the most natural and normal thing to do.
I grab hold of his waist with my free hand, loving the feel of his strength bringing me this pleasure. His hips speed up.
“With me this time,” he pants. He takes our joined hands and slips them between us, teasing my clit. The simple movement makes the wave grow more, and my body tenses in anticipation. “Close?” he asks.
“Almost,” I say, needing more but not wanting it to end.