6. Harry
HARRY
The staircase to the observation dome feels narrower with her in front of me. Chloe climbs each step in that silk nightgown that skims her thighs, the fabric shifting with every sway of her hips.
My cock strains against the thin cotton of my pajama pants.
She reaches the top first. The glass dome curves around us like a snow globe turned inside out, early morning light pouring through and catching on the snow-dusted peaks outside.
The train snakes through the canyon below, rock walls rising steep on both sides. I stop two steps down, eye level with the curve of her ass, and my mouth goes dry.
The urge to grab her hits so hard my hands flex at my sides. I've had her already—tasted her, felt her come apart—but it wasn't enough. Not even close.
Every time she laughed at breakfast this morning, every sarcastic twist of her mouth when she described her father's bullshit, the hunger only sharpened.
She stands at the curved glass, palms resting lightly against it, black hair spilling down her back. The nightgown clings in all the places I've spent years trying not to stare at. My bare feet make no sound on the last two steps.
I close the distance until my chest nearly brushes her back. Heat rolls off her. The train's low vibration hums through the floor, through us both. I hook one finger under the thin strap on her left shoulder.
The silk feels cool against my knuckle. My mouth finds the bare skin right there, just above the strap, and I drag my lips across it slow.
"Keep watching the view, sweetheart."
Her breath catches. The sound shoots straight to my dick. She doesn't turn. Her green eyes stay fixed on the mountains sliding past, but her body leans back the tiniest fraction, seeking contact.
I scrape my teeth over the same spot, gentler than I want to be. The restraint costs me. My free hand settles on her right hip, thumb stroking the silk there in small circles that match the rhythm of the train.
The strap slips down her arm when I tug.
She makes this soft noise in her throat that I've never heard before—half surprise, half invitation.
My cock twitches hard. I've pictured this exact moment in too many dark hotel rooms, too many family dinners where I couldn't look at her without risking everything.
She reaches up with both hands and pushes the other strap off. The nightgown slides down her body like water, pooling at her feet in a whisper of fabric.
My brain short-circuits. No underwear. Nothing. Just smooth skin and the perfect curve of her ass inches from my hips. The morning light paints her in soft gold, highlighting every dip and shadow.
A growl tears out of me before I can stop it. "Fuck, Chloe."
She stays facing the glass, but her hands press harder against it now, fingers spread wide. The position arches her back slightly, pushes her ass toward me.
My hands find her waist, span it easily. She's so much smaller than me. The contrast used to make me back away fast. Now it makes me want to wrap around her until nothing can touch her but us.
I drag my mouth along the side of her neck, open-mouthed, tasting the salt of her skin where her pulse hammers. She tilts her head to give me better access. Brave girl.
My hand slides down her stomach, over the soft curve below her navel, until my fingers brush between her legs. Wet. Soaking. My middle finger dips inside her easily, and her pussy clenches around the intrusion.
"Already this wet?" The words come out rough against her ear. "Been thinking about this since the lounge?"
She rocks back against my hand. The movement forces my finger deeper. Her inner walls flutter, hot and slick. I add a second finger, curling them just right, and her breath fogs the glass in front of her face.
"Harry—"
My name in that broken tone does dangerous things to my control. I pump my fingers slow.
The train sways around a curve, pressing her forward into the glass. Perfect. I use the momentum to grind my cock against her ass through my pants. The friction pulls a hiss from between my teeth.
"Hands stay on the glass." I nip her earlobe. "Don't move them."
She nods, frantic. Her hips chase my fingers when I pull them out. The loss makes her whimper. I bring my hand to my mouth and lick her taste off my skin, groaning at the sweetness.
Then I shove my pajama pants down just enough to free my cock. It springs up heavy against her lower back, leaving a streak of pre-cum on her skin.
Chloe's breath stutters. She pushes back again, seeking more contact. I grip her hips and tilt them up, angling her so the head of my cock slides through her folds.
The heat of her pussy against my tip nearly buckles my knees. I tease her clit with slow strokes, back and forth, coating myself in her wetness while the mountains outside blur past.
"Tell me you want it." The words scrape out low. My restraint frays at the edges. "Say it, sweetheart."
"I want it." Her voice shakes but doesn't waver. "Want you, Harry. Please."
I notch the head of my cock at her entrance and push inside in one smooth thrust. Her pussy stretches around me, tight and scorching.
The sensation rips a grunt from my chest. She's so fucking wet that I bottom out easier than I expected, my hips flush against her ass.
For a second I can't move. Just stand there buried to the hilt while her walls pulse around my cock like she's trying to pull me deeper.
The glass fogs faster with our combined breathing. Outside, the canyon walls rise higher. Inside, I'm buried in the woman I've wanted for years.
I start moving. Slow rolls of my hips that drag my cock almost all the way out before sliding back in.
Each thrust makes her tits bounce against the glass. Her nipples leave faint streaks on the surface. I keep one hand on her hip, the other braced beside hers on the glass, caging her in.
The train's rhythm matches mine. Every gentle sway of the car pushes me deeper. Her pussy makes these obscene wet sounds around my cock that echo in the dome.
I lean down and bite the junction of her neck and shoulder, not hard enough to mark but enough to make her gasp.
"Fuck, you feel perfect." The words slip out unfiltered. My voice sounds wrecked already. "So tight."
She clenches around me at the praise. Her head falls back against my shoulder, but her hands never leave the glass. Good girl.
I speed up just a fraction, still controlled, still savoring every inch as I fuck into her from behind.
The angle lets me hit that spot inside her on every thrust. Her moans grow louder, unrestrained. The sound bounces off the glass and wraps around us.
I love it. Love how she doesn't hold back anymore.
"Harry—harder?—"
The plea snaps something in me. I grip both her hips now, fingers digging into soft flesh, and give her what she asks for.
My pace turns punishing. Deep, driving strokes that slap my hips against her ass on every thrust. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the dome, raw and filthy. Her pussy flutters around my cock, getting impossibly wetter.
She cries out on a particularly deep thrust. The noise shoots pleasure down my spine. My balls draw up tight. I won't last if she keeps making sounds like that.
My hand cracks against her right ass cheek without warning. The smack echoes sharp. Her pussy clamps down on my cock so hard I see stars. She groans, deep and guttural, pushing back to meet my next thrust.
"Again," she demands, voice hoarse. "Please, again."
I smack the other cheek. Harder this time.
The flesh jiggles under my palm, turning pink. She keens, the sound breaking into a desperate moan that has my cock throbbing inside her. I rub my hand over the marks I left, soothing even as I keep fucking her with deep, steady strokes.
"Like that?" I growl against her ear. My fingers find her clit, circling the swollen nub with just enough pressure to make her legs shake. "You like when I spank this perfect ass while I fuck you?"
"Yes—God, yes?—"
Her voice cracks on the words. I pinch her clit lightly and feel her whole body jolt. The train rounds another curve, shifting our weight.
I use it to change the angle, driving up into her now. Her hands slip on the glass, leaving sweaty prints. She braces harder, pushing back to take every inch.
I can feel her getting close. Her pussy ripples around my cock in irregular pulses. Her breathing turns ragged, broken by these little gasps that drive me insane. I keep my fingers on her clit, rubbing tight circles while my hips snap forward.
"Come on my cock, sweetheart. Let me feel it."
She shatters with a loud cry. Her pussy clamps down like a vice, rhythmic spasms milking my length.
Wetness floods around my cock, dripping down her thighs. The sensation rips my own orgasm from me before I can stop it. I bury myself deep and come hard, pulsing inside her in thick spurts that seem to go on forever.
My groan vibrates against her back as I empty myself completely.
For a long moment we stay locked together, panting. The train's movement rocks us gently now, my cock still buried in her twitching pussy. I press my forehead to the back of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair mixed with sex and sweat.
I pull out slow, watching my come leak from her pussy and trickle down her inner thigh. The sight stirs something primal in my chest. I turn her around to face me.
Her green eyes are dazed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurts.
I cup her face with both hands and kiss her. Deep. Claiming. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, tasting the coffee from breakfast and the sweetness that's just her.
She melts into it, hands finally leaving the glass to clutch at my shoulders. The silk nightgown lies forgotten at our feet.
I break the kiss just enough to rest my forehead against hers. Our breaths mingle in the small space between us.
"You're mine." The words come out rough, certain. "Ours. And we're never letting you go."
She smiles against my mouth, small and real and a little wrecked. Her fingers trace the tattoos on my arms like she's memorizing them.