Page 162 of In Harmony
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He kissed me again, pulling me closer. My body let go of old fear, leaving only the intense desire to have Isaac in every way. To be enveloped by him completely, skin to skin. Not smothered and choking but holding him and being held. Letting him inside me because I wanted him everywhere.
His kiss was slow and deep, telling me we were going to take our time. His hands slid up my back and into my hair. He groaned softly, making fists in the thick waves. I loved how he touche
d me. As if he couldn’t get enough but would wait forever if I needed him to.
No more waiting.
My hands slipped around his neck, down over his chest and back up again, greedy for all of him. I didn’t want to stop kissing him but I needed to see him.
“Take this off,” I said, pulling at his shirt.
He yanked it over his head, tossed it aside, then lay back on the pillows, pulling me on top of him. A shiver shot up my spine at the sheer masculine beauty of his body. He was mine to touch and explore, however I wanted. My hands skimmed over the smooth planes of him, down to the contours of his abdomen. Muscle and power thrumming under my fingers. An energy that drew me toward him, falling forward on my hands and kissing him hard.
His fists in my hair tightened and then slipped down my back to my waist, curved around my ass, then glided up under my shirt. The sensation of his hands on me filled me with need. To touch and be touched. To give him more. Our mouths took back all the kisses we’d missed. Our hands sought to reclaim every lost touch. Our bodies craved the other, starving and desperate and needing to be satiated.
I sat up on his lap, stripped off my T-shirt, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders and breasts. Isaac stared, his pulse jumping in his throat. I waited, trembling, not with fear but anticipation of his hands on me. Or his mouth.
Or both.
He sat up and lifted the mass of hair off my neck. Strands stuck to my sweat dampened skin as the heat of the day intensified in my little house.
“Willow,” he whispered, drinking me in, his eyes leaving trails of heat wherever they landed on me. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Touch me,” I said.
His hands skimmed up my sides, then covered my breasts. Calloused skin over my sensitive nipples. I bit my lip and arched into his touch.
“Come here,” he said.
He lay back and gently pulled me toward him so he could take one nipple in his mouth. I cried out, a hand braced on the headboard as he sucked and licked. His teeth bit just hard enough to make me gasp, then his mouth moved to the other breast. His tongue swirling over my nipple, sending a slow heat down my back where it settled between my legs. A heavy ache of want growing more dire with every passing moment. My hips rolled against his erection, only the thin material of his boxers and my panties between us.
His mouth on one nipple, his hand on the other, thumb circling. Shivers of pleasure slipping down my back. I pulled away, sliding down the length of his body, kissing his mouth, his chin, then down his chest. I pressed my lips to his warm skin and inhaled. Beneath the expensive cologne was the faint sweat of his fight with Xavier, the fainter scent of blood, and everything that was purely Isaac.
I kissed down to the ridged muscles that coiled and tightened under my touch. A small groan in his chest, a sharp gasp as I took one of his small nipples in my mouth. A power I’d never felt before swelled up in me. A heated want of give and take.
I slipped my hand under the waistband of his boxers, wrapped my fingers around the hard, heavy length of him. His jaw clenched and a hiss escaped his teeth.
“God,” I said, burying my face in his neck as I stroked him. “You’re so hard. For me.”
“Fuck, yes,” he grunted.
I lifted my head. “I want to see you. I want you…”
He slipped out of his boxers and I stared at him, hard as iron in my small hand. A wetness dampened my panties instantly and I let out a little gasp. “I’ve never…” The words were shy. I swallowed and tried again. “I’ve never felt like this before. I need you so bad…”
He kissed me, his hands trailing down my body, over my breasts, my stomach, to my hips, to tug at my panties.
“I’m going to make this perfect for you.” Then his mouth traveled down after his hands, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses over my skin. The stifling heat of the summer laid a sheen of sweat over me he slipped down my body, adding his own heat, licking and tasting mine, pulling my panties completely off. A man dying of thirst about to drink for the first time.
“Isaac…”
His name turned into a cry as he put his mouth on me. My back arched off the bed, the pleasure taking over my body. My hips lifted into his mouth for more, while my hands clutched the top of the headboard. He sucked and licked me relentlessly. My bare heels slid along the sweat-slicked skin of his back, and he growled into me, ravenous.
I tensed and arched a final time, a scream of delirious pleasure locked in my throat as the first wave crashed over. I let it out on a slow moan as I came down on a current of gusted breath, my back coming down to touch the bed as if I’d been floating from a great height.
“Jesus Christ,” I panted, and looked down at him between my thighs.
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