Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
LOUISA
I ’m all fumbling fingers and nervous chatter as I pry the wet shirt from Harry’s shoulders. God, this is not my first time. Why the hell am I so nervous? It’s like I’m a love-sex virgin. With the only sex I’ve ever had being for fun, or a casual arrangement, the overwhelming emotions that have me on tenterhooks doing this with Harry are insane.
Like it’s weighted so much heavier than anything else. It’s too much. And nowhere enough. I can’t get close enough to him. The mountains stand over us, hiding us away from the world. The sounds of the running stream do absolutely nothing to take the edge off this burn I get from the slightest look from him.
I run my hand over his chest. The toned dips and valleys steal my breath. His dark hair, wet and shaggy around his face, he pushes back with a hand. The biceps in his arm flex, the forearm following suit as he runs a finger behind the opening of my jeans. My body aches for his touch.
“Everywhere, cowboy, remember?”
“We waited this long, there’s no way in hell I’m rushing this.”
He wants to savor this.
Of course he does.
The man of few words takes things slow. He’s an enigma. A man out of his time. Something stoic. Nothing like the fast-fling fakers of the Cali scene. Hands sweep me up as he lays his shirt underneath me. Apparently, I weigh nothing. Not to Harry Rawlins.
“Everywhere starts here,” he rasps, dotting a kiss to my forehead. He tracks his way down, crawling over the top of me. Water drips from his skin, dotting over my bare stomach, each drop sending the lightning in my veins skittering faster. Strong arms hold him above me as he reaches my neck, my collarbones, and then to my right breast. When his mouth finds my hard nipple, I arch into him.
So desperate for him.
I ache everywhere. The pounding blood in my veins sinks to my clit. I wriggle my hips. I need him. I want to feel him.
My nipple slips from his lips with a pop as he travels to the left breast. It’s all I can do to sink my hands in his hair as my heart rattles around my rib cage like a runaway freight train. I’m so nervous. So worked up over him. It’s like nothing else before.
“And here,” he rasps, his warm mouth brushing over my ribs before his breath tickles my belly button. The moment it travels further south, heat floods my core, sending an agonizing throb into my center.
Wet jeans.
No good.
“These are comin’ off,” he rumbles.
Yes, they are. I lift up, and he makes short work of my tight jeans with rough hands. The movement jostles my breasts. A small, raw noise climbs up his throat. Hearing him, seeing his hands on my body, I couldn’t care less if I never took another breath ever again. Tears burn the back of my eyes. I scrunch up my face, desperate to stifle the overwhelming emotions that come with losing myself to Harry.
Eyes shuttering closed, I draw in a ragged breath, hands gripping the soft grass beside my now bare hips. Warmth descends over me, cold, wet denim touches my hip bones, and a hand slides behind my neck, another scooting under my shoulders.
My back leaves the grass. I open my eyes as I’m lifted up, coming face-to-face with deep blues, deep, heavy brows, all angles and dark hair.
The air that’s been precariously inflating my lungs disappears.
“Har—”
“You need to tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.”
I huff a shaky breath and briefly close my eyes, letting my hands wander over his broad shoulders enroute to his neck, arriving among the damp, dark locks that will always steal my breath. “It’s nothing, I just...”
Drawn-down brows rest against my forehead.
“Spit it out, Lou.”
My hands tingle.
God, please no, not now.
My chest tightens.
As if reading my body better than I do, his thumbs caress my cheeks. “Breathe, Louisa May. I got you. Ain’t gonna let a damn thing hurt you ever again.”
I suck in air, fighting off the emotion that’s clawing at my insides. I’m trying to tell him what he means to me. I don’t understand why my stupid body is having a moment. At all.
I swallow back the remnants of flailing negative thoughts that are no use to me at this moment.
“Us.”
“What about us?” he rasps.
“It’s too much,” I whisper, cupping his face with my hands, “and not enough, all at once. I can?—”
His mouth crashes over mine.
I let him devour the last word for a moment, then my brain catches up. I need to say this.
“I can’t control myself around you. I have no control of this. It’s autonomous.”
He raises a brow. “Smaller words, darlin’, the blood is nowhere near my head right now.”
I chuckle and it turns into a breaking, happy sob. “This thing between us, it’s like an invisible force. I can’t see it. But hell, Harry, I feel it. I feel everything .”
“Same. I ain’t goin’ to question it. Not this time ’round.”
I pull his mouth to my own. He opens, and I am taking what my heart wants, finding out what I missed for so long. I settle on his lap, knees digging into the grass. The ridge in his jeans is bliss against my aching core. He leans back, snapping up a nipple in his mouth. I arch into him, still not close enough. Palming my ribs, he runs a finger under one breast.
“Please...” I whimper.
I’m off his waist and lying on the grass a second later. His cool, damp hair tickles my stomach as he shuffles backward between my legs. Big hands push my thighs wider. I palm my breasts, needing sensation everywhere.
“Sweet Jesus, Lou,” is all I hear before his tongue runs the length of my wet center.
I’m up off the grass, hands in his hair, instantly. His mouth works my soaked pussy like he’s been doing it his whole life. His gorgeous hair is silk between my fingers. The fire he’s building with every lick, every suckle is going to burn me alive.
“Harry, plea—Oh God!”
He takes a long, languid draw on my clit, and I spiral.
Two rough fingers plummet inside me. I clench around them as the ache becomes too much.
“I’ve waited a decade for this sweet pussy, Louisa. And, fuck, it was worth every godforsaken lonely day I went without you. But now, I wanna see that beautiful face of yours fall apart.”
Short pants leave my lips as his mouth finds my clit, lips tugging before his tongue swirls around it. I cry out as the spiral escalates, sending pure bliss imploding through my core, every inch of me trembling. Harry’s deep blues watching me is too much. I come hard and fast. Tears burn and fall. I choke on the useless air lancing through my lungs.
I tumble back down to earth, sobbing uncontrollably.
Harry is on his knees, wrapped around me before my next battered heartbeat thumps. I let ugly sobs assault his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I finally choke out. His skin is wet with my tears, his body still wrapped around me. He holds me at arm’s length, gaze searching my face, and I force a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
I chug another sob and suck back the tears.
A soft smile blooms on his face. “Better late than never.”
I chuckle, wiping my face dry.
“Come on, we should get back.” He pushes to his feet, his jeans bulging, still damp from the stream.
“No.” I grab his hands, holding him to the spot.
He looks down at me as I push to my knees. He’s not getting out of this that easily. I meant it when I said I wanted him everywhere. I pluck the button of his jeans open and lower the zipper.
“Lou...”
I press a finger to my lips.
I need to taste him. I want to see if I have the same extraordinary effect on him that he has on me. I tug the wet material down. The pants hardly budge. I look up with begging eyes. A rough hand slides into my hair before it cups my cheek, his thumb pushing into my mouth. His lips twitch, breaths coming quicker, rougher than before.
“A little help,” I say, pulling at the denim.
He leans back a little, his stare never leaving my face. Like he’s afraid if he pulls it away, me on my knees before him will simply disappear. Maybe he’s dreamed of something like this, only to have woken up alone.
For so long.
With the achingly sad thought, I tug harder, and the jeans move down. I send the boxers down to where the denim rests on his thighs, revealing his hard length. I can’t take my eyes off it. I’d wondered, from time to time. When I couldn’t sleep, sometimes late at night, I would fantasize about what it would have been with Harry.
Now, it’s right in front of me.
My mouth waters at the sight.
I grip the bulging length and swipe my thumb over the tip. A shudder rolls over his body, his hands snapping to my face. I look up.
“Louisa.” My name is gravel, barely audible.
His deep blues drill into my green as I slide the tip into my mouth. His head tilts, jaw clenching. His eyes are hooded, desperate, the shade now deeper, grounding and darkening by the second. His legs tense as I pull up, sucking the tip. I take him as deep as I can.
Loving the way that every inch my mouth travels makes his face move that tiny bit.
His tongue darts out, licking his lips. My face is taut with dried tears. I don’t care. All I want to see, to feel, is this man. This stoic, incredible man who waited ten years for me.
I swirl my tongue over his tip before letting my teeth grace the now leaking opening. It’s salty and delicious. I run a hand up the inside of his muscular thigh, wandering my fingertips over his balls, one then the other.
The groan rattling his chest is intoxicating.
I trace circles around one, taking him to the back of my throat. With as much pull as I can manage, I slide back up. His body trembles, hands gripping tight in my hair. I do the same motion again until he quakes where he stands.
“Stop, Lou, ’less you want it all,” he pants.
“I want it all, Harry,” I say, not letting up on my assault of lips, mouth, and hand. Rough hands pull my face away, holding me back as I kneel. His eyes slam shut, jaw twitching as a growl rumbles up his throat.
“Goddammit, woman,” he utters.
I pump him hard with my hand, desperate to see him fall apart.
And he does.
Hot ropes of white land on me, sliding over my breasts. The warmth of it caresses my nipples. I’m mesmerized by the sight of him. Clenched, angled jaw. Deep blue, lust-drunk eyes looking down at me as his fingers grip my chin, tilt my head up, and force my eyes to his.
His face is wrecked, a war between pleasure and emotion cracking it six ways to Sunday. His breathing is a choppy rasp.
I push to my feet, taking his jaw in my palms as I sink my mouth over his. His fire meets my own, as if being spent all over me is only the beginning.
I break the kiss and study his expression. “No turning back now, is there?”
“I hope not,” he breathes.
How could we? This force of nature that is us keeps pulling him and I along.
Both of us helpless to pull away.
I don’t think I will ever want to...