I’m full of him, everywhere. My body, my head, my senses. There’s no denying it.
Every instinct to struggle against the invasion ends with my fingers clenching, my body clenching, as he slides deeper.
When his cock hits resistance, I gasp in relief.
The last time we did this, we were swept up by the emotion of the night and needing escape and comfort.
This is intentional.
I told him we had no contract now, but it’s not true. We signed on an implicit line tonight, possibly from the moment he sat down at that table.
A promise we’d play this out tonight with clear eyes and clear heads. And this time, neither of us is running.
His groan ends on a hiss, and I realize he’s struggling with control as much as I am.
“Feel how deep I am,” he rasps in my ear. “Memorize it. Every second I’m not inside you, you’ll wish I was.”
Those words send blood pounding through my veins.
“I’m going to cover every damn inch of this body before we’re through. But first…” The flash of cockiness in his eyes is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. “You’ll come for me.”
I wrap my legs around his hips, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp and his jaw tighten.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I pant. “I understand endurance is harder at your age—”
“Just for that, you’ll count. Every fucking stroke.” He shoves me back, his chest brushing mine so there’s no question I’m staying down.
I’d laugh if I wasn’t so caught up. I count the first stroke in my head, almost losing track at the firm thrust of him stretching me, the sight of him, a powerful and determined flex of muscle and man over me.
The next second, my butt is on fire, and I yelp. “The fuck?”
His eyes flash with satisfaction. “Count. Out loud.”
“Two,” I pant, my voice wavering at the edges. The angle is different this time, hitting me where I’m aching, and the knowing look on his face says he knows.
Still, there’s no way I’ll…
“Fuck… three…”
My back arches up off the carpet, unbidden.
Harrison’s lazy mouth is in direct contrast with the rest of him, descending to leave a trail of heat up my throat.
Unreal.
“Five…”
More, overtaking me.
I’m at twelve when he presses on my clit and I clench around him.
“That’s cheating,” I mumble as the orgasm crashes through me.
He moves through my climax, harder and faster and relentless. Until his body stills inside me and his muscles seize.
The heavy exhale is torn from deep inside him, his shoulders flexing and eyes squeezing shut.
It’s a thing of beauty, watching this tightly laced man fall apart. I can’t help tightening around him as he spills himself inside me.