Page 38

Straightening, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the way Harriet’s gaze was drawn—utterly helpless—to the rigid length of him.

A slow, smug satisfaction curled through his chest as he noted the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her fingers twitching against the sheets as if resisting the urge to reach for him.

A playful smile curved his lips as he prowled back toward her, his muscles flexing with each movement, the firelight casting golden shadows over his body.

“See something you like, Harry?” His voice was a deep, knowing rasp.

She swallowed, her lashes fluttering as she dragged her gaze back up to meet his. “I think I may have forgotten how magnificent you are.”

“Since last night?” Sebastian chuckled, lowering himself back onto the bed. “Then allow me to remind you.”

Sebastian scarcely had a moment to revel in the sight of her beneath him before Harriet surprised him, shoving at his shoulders with unexpected force and rolling them until she straddled his hips, her pelvis coming down on his as she settled down, soft and wet meeting hard and dry.

He let out a sharp breath, his hands flying to her waist, stunned and aroused by her sudden assertiveness.

She was the magnificent one. A conqueror. Her auburn hair tumbled loose from its pins, spilling over her shoulders in a riot of curls, her lips red and kiss-swollen, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“You think you can have all the fun, my lord?” she murmured, trailing her fingers over his collarbone, down the defined ridges of his chest.

Sebastian smirked, his hands sliding over the curve of her hips. “By all means, have your way with me.”

Harriet’s gaze darkened with intent. Slowly, she traced his muscles, her fingertips featherlight, mapping the expanse of him as if she had lost her sense of sight and he was a landscape to memorize. He shuddered as she skimmed his ribs, the faintest whisper of touch enough to set his skin alight.

Her touch turned bolder, nails scraping lightly as she followed the indents of his abdomen, then lower still, to where the muscles tensed beneath her slow, teasing exploration. She took her time, smiling coyly, and Sebastian found himself entirely at her mercy.

He had thought he was the one in command.

But it seemed Harriet had other ideas.

Sebastian’s breath came in shallow pulls as Harriet’s fingers trailed lower, teasing the taut muscles of his stomach. Her touch was light—infuriatingly so—each delicate brush of her fingertips sending hot shivers racing beneath his skin.

He was used to control. To leading. To coaxing desire from the women he had lain with, using knowing hands and lingering kisses. But this—this slow, torturous exploration—had him undone.

Harriet seemed to sense it, her lips curving with a naughty smile.

“So very smug a moment ago,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then another to the hollow of his throat. “And now look at you.”

Sebastian groaned, his fingers tightening at her hips, aching to reclaim his dominance, to flip her beneath him and drive her to madness as she was doing to him.

But then her mouth descended, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the plane of his chest, tracing the contours of his chest with the tip of her tongue. He jolted when she caught his nipple between her teeth, tugging just enough to send a sharp, liquid shock through his veins.

His head fell back against the pillow, a guttural sound tearing from his throat.

“God, Harry.”

She hummed in response, lips trailing lower, savoring him with playful licks and nibbles.

It was exquisite torture.

He had never been so completely at a woman’s mercy, had never lain so utterly vulnerable beneath a lover’s hands. Harriet was no meek, blushing maiden. She was fire and fury, a tempest of passion that threatened to consume him whole.

And he would gladly burn.

Her fingers trailed lower still, skimming his hip bones, her touch both treasuring and mischievous.

“You are beautiful,” she whispered against his skin, and he nearly lost himself then and there.

No one had ever spoken those words to him.

Not like this.

Not in the hushed, awed way that Harriet did now, as though he were a marvel to be worshipped, as though she could never grow tired of exploring him.

His hands slid up her back, desperate to anchor himself, to hold onto something solid as she continued her torturous descent.

“Harry,” he rasped, barely recognizing his own voice. “If you do not stop?—”

“If I do not stop …?”

She lowered her head, her blue eyes dark with challenge as she swirled her tongue around the crown of his cock. He let out a strangled sound, half laugh, half groan, and gripped her hips, rolling them until she was beneath him once more.

Enough.

She had had her turn.

Now it was his.

Sebastian claimed her mouth in a kiss that left no room for resistance—just a deep, shattering need that stole the breath from them both.

Harriet arched beneath him, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to send a pleasurable sting through his scalp. His body was strung tight, his mastery fraying, his discipline barely holding by a thread.

“Enough of this torment, Harry,” he murmured against her lips, the words a growl of frustration and need. “I have waited long enough for you.”

Her lips parted, a soft moan escaping as he traced a slow, deliberate path down her throat.

And then, as though she sensed his intent, she shifted beneath him, her body a perfect, warm invitation. Sebastian inhaled her scent, then pressed his forehead to hers, his voice hoarse and raw.

“Are you ready?”

Harriet’s hands slid down his back, nails biting into his skin just enough to make him shudder.

“I have never been more ready in my life.”

Her words shattered the last of his composure.

And then there was only fire.

Only them.

Only this.

Sebastian crushed his mouth to hers once more, pouring every ounce of longing, of years lost and found again, into the kiss. But then, just as he was ready to take her, to claim her as he had dreamed of for so long, Harriet did something unexpected.

With surprising strength and determination, she twisted beneath him again, using his own momentum against him. In an instant, he found himself flat on his back, Harriet straddling him, her hair tumbling in wild waves around her face.

Sebastian blinked up at her, momentarily stunned.

A triumphant smile played on her lips as she pressed her palms to his chest, her touch featherlight yet searing.

“You think you are the only one who has waited for this?” she murmured, her voice husky.

A deep groan rumbled in his chest as she traced delicate fingertips along the taut lines of his stomach, her touch igniting a trail of fire in its wake.

Sebastian’s hands moved to grasp her hips, but Harriet caught them, pressing them back against the mattress.

“Not yet,” she whispered.

He let out a strangled sound, a mixture of a groan and a laugh.

“Minx,” he muttered, but he allowed her this moment, surrendering to her touch.

Her lips followed the path of her hands, brushing over his collarbone, his chest, pausing at the scars he had earned over the years.

She kissed each one.

Sebastian’s breath left him in a sharp exhale.

“You undo me, Harry,” he admitted, his voice low and ragged.

She smiled against his skin.

“Good,” she murmured.

And then she continued her curious exploration.

Harriet trailed her lips lower, her breath warm against his skin as she explored every sculpted plane of his body. Sebastian felt himself unraveling beneath her touch, his muscles tensing with every press of her delicate fingers, every sweep of her tongue.

His head fell back against the pillows, a deep groan spilling from his lips as she kissed down the center of his chest, her hands skimming along his ribs, his abdomen, before tracing the sharp cut of his hips.

“God above, Harriet,” he rasped, his hands flexing against the sheets.

She paused, glancing up at him through her thick lashes, her expression a mixture of satisfaction and something softer—something that stole the breath from his lungs.

“You have always been majestic,” she murmured, her fingers splaying over his taut stomach. “But like this … beneath me … completely mine to touch …”

She lowered her lips to the curve of his hip, brushing a kiss there, then another, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

Sebastian’s resolve frayed at the edges, his fingers gripping the sheets in an effort not to flip her beneath him and take charge. But damnation, he wanted to see what she would do next.

Her mouth continued its descent, her touch teasing, tormenting, until he was nearly shaking with the effort to remain still.

“Harry,” he warned, his voice hoarse.

She smiled, wicked and knowing, and pressed her lips to the sharpest point of his hipbone, making his entire body jerk beneath her.

“You are playing a dangerous game,” he ground out, his hands clenching into fists.

Her tongue darted out to taste him again and again.

“Perhaps I like danger,” she whispered.

Sebastian swore violently, reaching for her, but she slipped from his grasp, laughing breathlessly as she pressed her hands against his chest once more, holding him down.

“Not yet,” she teased. “I am not quite finished with you.”

His chest heaved, his entire body drawn tight as a bowstring.

“Then hurry up and finish,” he growled.

She only laughed again, and continued her slow, torturous trailing, driving him to the very edge of madness.

Then, when he knew he could not take another single second of her delicious torment, Harriet raised her hips and slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing length.

Her slick channel closed around him, her tight heat driving him mad as he arched up to receive her, and she slid down until she was seated all the way to the hilt of him.

They both panted in unison, spellbound by the sensation of joining.

Then, ever so slowly, she gyrated against him, rubbing the center of her pleasure against his pubic bone and gasping as her head fell back to reveal the long column of her slender throat and she began to ride.

Back and forth, she rode him with long strokes, squeezing his cock tightly with her strong, intimate muscles, and Sebastian groaned, torn between throwing his head back in ecstasy and watching her curvaceous body riding him.

As she picked up speed, grinding the apex of her crease against him, he feared he would not last at the sight of her taking her pleasure on him, her breasts swaying and bouncing with the motion of rhythmic undulation that drove him to the furthest edge of sanity, the sensation too much to contain.

He strained for his self-control and groaned with grateful relief when he heard her muffled shriek of release and was finally able to let go, spending deep into her womb with a rush so intense, he feared he would pass out.

Harriet collapsed over him, their limbs tangled, their bodies soaked in sweat, and a curtain of red hair flowing in every direction. Sebastian raised a hand to hold her head to his chest and, in that moment, knew what it was to live in paradise.