Chapter 9 #2
She was so tense it was a miracle her muscles weren’t twanging. Her heart was pounding but she couldn’t tell why. Her limbs felt heavy, the air was thick and hot.
Harry moved slightly away from her into the room and she nearly fell forward, as if he had a huge force field around him that generated its own gravity. He was at a sideboard. “Do you want some whiskey?”
Did she? She wanted…something, that was for sure.
“Um, yeah.” Her throat was tight. Her voice was scratchy. She cleared it. “Thanks.”
The gurgle of whiskey was loud in the silence. Harry walked over holding two glasses and pressed one into her hand.
She looked up at him. How could he get more handsome by the hour? How was that possible? In the penumbra he was just magnificent, a golden god looking at her with heat in his golden eyes.
She brought the glass to her mouth and so did he, and hesitated when it was at her lips. They both hesitated. Finally, Harry put his glass down without tasting the whiskey.
“That’s not what I want,” he whispered.
Ellen set hers down too, blindly. “Me either.”
They stepped forward, both of them, and in a second, she was in his arms, which was easier for Harry than it was for her.
She wanted—oh so badly—to embrace him, but he was so tall and his shoulders so broad, it was impossible. And then it didn’t matter that she couldn’t fit her arms around him because he was kissing her and she blew up in flames.
He didn’t have any problems, though. One arm was around her waist, one big hand cradling the back of her head, covering it. It was a good thing that hand was there because her neck muscles went lax.
His mouth was eating her up, tongue stroking hers and every time their tongues met, heat flashed through her and all the muscles in her lower belly clenched, hard.
Harry lifted his head, slanted his mouth, and it was like another kiss altogether, longer, hotter.
He tasted of the wine they’d had for dinner and the chocolate mousse for dessert and sex.
He slanted his head again, lightly bit her bottom lip and she moaned.
It was as if she’d flipped a switch. Harry stiffened and tightened his arm around her and she could feel everything, his hard chest muscles, lean belly and huge, erect penis.
Heat flashed everywhere in Ellen’s body.
She just lit up from the inside, this small nuclear detonation that melted her insides, made her legs weak.
It was entirely possible that Harry’s arm around her waist was the only thing holding her up.
So much power and heat, she instinctively wanted more of it, stepping even closer to him, feet between his, the heat becoming a furnace where their loins touched. Her tongue touched his in a silky stroke and she could feel his penis lengthen.
This time it was Harry who moaned. “Bed,” he groaned when he lifted his mouth from hers for a second and she nodded enthusiastically and pulled his head back down to her.
There was some rusty sound coming from his chest and it took her a second to identify it. Laughter. Grim Harry Bolt was laughing.
She smiled beneath his mouth.
Still kissing her and kissing her and kissing her, Harry bent at the knees and lifted her up in his arms. The stuff movie scenes are made of, but Ellen didn’t know of many men who could do it like Harry.
He simply lifted her in his arms as if she were weightless and carried her away with no sense of strain at all. Not even his breathing changed.
No, wait. While moving in the darkness through the seemingly endless rooms, Ellen lifted herself up a little by tightening her arms around his neck and bit his mouth lightly, running her tongue over his lips and oh, yeah, his breathing changed.
Lifting a full grown woman in his arms didn’t do it but bumping the sexuality up a level sure did.
It was a good thing his house was mainly empty because Harry wasn’t looking where he was going, he was kissing her with his eyes closed as if to savor every aspect of her mouth.
They reached the bedroom and he gently put her on her feet, holding her shoulders in his big hands.
Ellen slowly opened her eyes, hands curled around his sides. Under her palms, she could feel the hard, lean planes of muscle, moving as he breathed.
They looked at each other, the soft waves of the ocean coming through his open French windows like the sound of the world breathing.
Harry looked almost in pain, his face drawn, deep grooves bracketing his mouth. He huffed out a breath. His light eyes almost glowed in the penumbra as he hands tightened on her.
“Okay. I don’t know how we’re going to do this.
If I’m not in you inside of five minutes, I’m going to die.
My heart will simply explode and it won’t be pretty.
But the thing is this—I haven’t had sex in a couple of years which creates two problems. One, I don’t have any condoms. If I had any condoms in some drawer somewhere they’d be powder by now.
And two, I can’t promise to pull out because I’m going to come the second I’m in you.
It won’t mean anything because the way I feel right now, I will stay hard for the next ten years, but I don’t have any control over anything right now.
” He huffed another breath. “What are we going to do?”
Ellen didn’t answer right away. He had on a white shirt, which he’d put on to go upstairs to dinner at Sam and Nicole’s. She had the impression a white shirt was about as formal as he ever got. She couldn’t even begin to imagine him with a tie. Good, one less thing to worry about.
She reached around and ran her hands slowly up his chest, savouring the feel of him, hard and lean and perfect. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt and as her hands moved up, she could feel male nipples under her palms and she stroked one with a thumb.
Harry jumped. There was no other word for it. His breathing rate increased.
“Ellen?” The cords of his neck were standing out and his jaw muscles were tight. “Did you hear a word I said?”
“Hmm?” Up up, until she came to the top button of his shirt. She undid it, then the next one and the next one and the next one. Until his shirt hung open, coming together only under his belt.
Oh. It was enough to make her slack-jawed.
There wasn’t a pirate on any romance novel who could even hold a candle to Harry with his shirt open.
His chest hairs were a mat of curly dark blond hair that covered his pectorals, thinning down to his belly button.
There had never been a chest like this in the history of the world.
“Ellen?” He sounded strangled now.
She brushed one panel aside and saw a hard male nipple with a light copper aureole around it. Moving forward slowly, as if in a dream, she nuzzled it. When she licked him there, just to see what he tasted like, he jolted again.
“For Christ’s sake, woman,” he gritted.
Delicious. He tasted absolutely delicious. Salty and sweet, at the same time.
She smiled up at him. “If you’re worried about disease, it’s been much longer than two years for me.
So I guess we’re both disease free. If you’re worried about performance, believe me, whatever you do, you’ll be better than me.
If you’re worried about pregnancy, I had to go to a doctor a couple of months back.
I had stopped having my period because of stress.
I was prescribed a series of shots, one a month, to regulate them.
As a side effect, they’re contraceptive, too. My last shot was ten days ago, so—"
His eyes had widened as he listened.
“Christ,” he breathed, eyes fixed on her face. “Bareback.”
It took her a second to realize what he meant. “Oh, um, yeah.”
He exploded into action, reaching behind her to take the picks out of her hair, hands moving down to unzip her dress, tugging her panties down before they had had time to pool at her feet, pulling her shoes off, lifting her out of the dress, placing her on the bed, ripping his own clothes off—the bottom buttons of his shirt pinged all over the empty hardwood floor— and coming down on top of her.
Ellen barely had time to register what was happening when he spread his knees, strong hairy thighs opening her legs, reaching down to open her up and she felt the huge hot hard head of his penis and then his hips tightened and he moved hard inside her, shaking and sweating.
He barely made it all the way inside when his penis swelled and he exploded inside her, every muscle tight as she felt the hard jets of semen in splashes of warmth inside her.
He was holding tightly to her head, kissing her hard, groaning into her mouth, hips rocking back and forth as he continued spurting inside her and it went on and on, until he finally collapsed on top of her, hot and huge and heavy and sweaty, breathing like a bull.
“God,” he breathed then jolted. “Your shoulder!”
He lifted himself up on his elbows, looking appalled, and Ellen pressed down on his neck. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It doesn’t hurt.”
With a deep sigh, he settled back on her, broad chest bellowing, as if he’d just run the marathon.
His breathing slowly slowed. His face was buried in the pillow next to her head.
“You should be singing Rocket Man about now,” he said into the pillow, his voice muffled.
Ellen smiled up into the ceiling. “Well, something tells me you’re not done yet.”
He was huge inside her. Climaxing hadn’t made him soften a bit. His orgasm had had a fabulous effect, though. He’d pumped so much moisture into her that she was able to accommodate him. That first entry had been painful. He was large and she hadn’t made love in a long time.
Harry turned his head on the pillow and smiled at her. “Oh man,” he breathed, the words a little slurred. “I’m not ever going to be done. Gonna stay right here the rest of my natural days.”
She took in a deep breath, or tried to anyway. The man weighed a ton. It didn’t make any difference though, because who cared about breathing when there were all these fantastic sensations flooding her system?