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She was wrapped around him. He felt the heat of her body pressed against his. Every shiver and tremble pushed his desire higher. Gods, but the taste of her. Ambrosia. Divine food of the gods. He knew there was nothing else on earth like it. He’d always known it would be like this. He’d been with other women, but he’d known, soul deep, that they had nothing on Magenta. No one did.
Her tiny whimper of need brought his thoughts back to her. Her slender hands moved to his hair, fingers weaving through it as she clung to him. She angled his head, kissing him deeper. Her passion ignited the dominant aspects of his nature that usually only surfaced during business or when he was fighting. It was important to him that he had control in this, for now. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t a walkover. That she couldn’t dismiss him easily. She couldn’t frighten him away the way she did with anyone else who got too close. He was too strong for that.
He put a few scant inches between them as he grasped her hands. He wound their fingers together, holding her hands on the ground on either side of her head. “Not so fast, baby. I want you to enjoy this. Don’t worry; I’ll make you feel so good you’ll have no problem relaxing for sleep.”
Her body pushed up under him. “Talk. Talk. Talk. That’s all I’m getting.” She was annoyed. And breathless.
He grinned against her lips. “So demanding.” He kissed her long and hard, stealing the breath from her. “I love it.” Before she could answer, his mouth was back on hers.
Her body relaxed as tiny moans peppered the air. The sound made him almost rabid with want. She clenched his hands so hard he felt the bite of her nails. It made him growl. Almost loath to lose the nip of her touch, he transferred both of her hands into one of his and slid to her side. He was still pressed fully against her, her leg still over his hip, but now he could touch her. He wanted his hands on the curves he’d dreamed about.
She groaned her displeasure at losing his weight. It made him smile. His mouth found her neck, where he bit and sucked, noting which touch got the strongest reaction. Filing the information away for future use.
“Harry.” It was barely a whisper, but it was filled with such longing it made his blood surge.
His hand skimmed over her shoulder, around the outer curve of her breast, over her hip to her thigh. She pressed into him, panting as his hand found skin. He held her tight at the curve where her thigh met her behind. His fingertips straying into the heat of her inner thigh. His lips moved to her ear.
“Do you want me to make you feel good? Do you want me to release the tension for you? I can. I can make your body do whatever I need it to do. Do you want that, Magenta?”
Her breath hitched. A gasp. “Harry.”
“Tell me, baby, tell me you want me to touch you and make you lose control.” His words were a dark mumble. Each one almost desperately tight.
“Harry?” He could hear the confusion. The need. She was somewhere else already. It made him want to roar with victory.
“Tell me,” he ordered. “Tell me you want me to touch you.”
He let his fingers whisper over her centre. Let her know exactly what he meant. She gasped and jolted into his touch.
“Harry. Please.” The desperation he heard turned him inside out.
“Tell me.” A whisper against her lips.
“Please touch me. Please make me soar.”
He slumped against her. Relief flooding him. “My pleasure, baby. My pleasure.” His mouth crashed on hers as his fingers slid under the cotton edge of her boy shorts. A second later, he found heaven. Wet. Ready. Pulsing with need.
His tongue plundered the depths of her mouth, while his nimble fingers teased her sensitive and needy core.
Her mewing sounds mingled with desperate pants. He caught each in his mouth. Savouring the taste of her desire. Swelling with pride at her loss of control.
“Please,” she gasped. “Please.”
He bit her full bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth. Her hands fought to be free. He pressed them into the earth, earning another moan. Her hips ground against his. Her calf clutched his hip. Her heel digging into his backside.
“I’ve got you,” he told her. “Let go.”
“Oh, oh, Harry!”
And then she was soaring, just like he’d promised she would. Harry covered her mouth with his to capture her moans. Feeling her buck beneath him. Holding her tight as her body spasmed and stretched. Gently, he coaxed her back down to earth. To him. His arms wrapped around her, as he fell to his back. He pulled Magenta on top of him.
With a kiss to her forehead, he stroked her hair.
“Harry,” she said softly. She sounded dazed. Wrung out. Sated.
He smiled into her hair. “Sleep, baby. It’ll soon be morning. Sleep here, with me.”
“Harry, we need to—we should, I mean, there should be talking.”
“Tomorrow. Tonight we sleep.”
She lifted her head as though ready to protest.
“Please, baby, let me enjoy this. I’ve waited so long to be close to you. I don’t want to miss a second. I want to hold you. I want you to sleep. Give me that.”
She stilled for a moment, then her body relaxed. Slowly, she tucked her head back under his chin. Her hand snaked under his arm to curve up around him. Her knee bent to cuddle his hip. Harry held her close as her body went heavy with sleep. Her breathing deep and slow. He was never letting her go. Ever.
It was then he heard it, a whisper carried by the air. “Holy hell. Did you hear that? Harry has skills. Who knew? Is it wrong to get hot listening to your cousin get horizontal with your best friend? I might need therapy. And a man. I definitely need a man.”
He’d forgotten that the people outside could hear them.
Harry’s eyes clenched shut. His whole body became taut as he waited to see if Magenta had heard. When she didn’t move and her steady breathing registered in his panicked mind, he allowed himself to relax.
There would be no sleep for him. He’d planned to spend his night memorising the feel of Magenta curled up against him. Instead he’d have to spend it thinking about what he would do in the morning. How he would deal with the fallout. He needed a plan, because when that door opened and Magenta realised they’d had an audience, she was either going to kill him or hate him.
And he couldn’t allow her to do either.