The warm scrape of his tongue enticed a moan from her, and she writhed against him, seeking more.Will.In answer to her unspoken plea, he thrust deeper. Harder. It was almost too much for her. Her entire body was on fire. Alive with need. A throbbing sensation stirred deep within her.
A whimper escaped her lips, a prayer of need, and she pushed her fingers desperately into his hair, gripping the tufts tightly as she held on. All her life she had searched for someone to share the perfect life, the perfect man with the perfect circumstances, never quite knowing what perfect really meant, what it was she was really longing for.
She longed for this. She longed for him, perfectly imperfect.
“Will...” She didn’t know what to demand from him, so Harriet let her body do all the guiding, but for his name. It exploded from her like a declaration of something not yet spoken.
His chest heaved. “I love your name on my lips.”
Laughter stirred in her chest, a note of daring. “I love your lips on me.”
He pushed into her harder, stronger, faster. “They will never leave.”
Lawd, what that man and his mouth did to her. She arched into him again, shifting her hips to take in more of him. If there was more to be had. She didn’t want to miss out on anything. Not an inch.
“I love that expression on your face.” His eyes caught hers, and Harriet couldn’t look away from the raw, naked arousal there.
“What expression?” she breathed.
“Like you’re almost coming undone.”
I am coming undone.
Harriet wriggled her hips to urge him on. “More. Everything.”
He didn’t disappoint. This man never did. Taut muscles strained against her body. Every shove was hard and deep. Her body would be sore tomorrow. Her back would ache, too. She didn’t care.
“Is this what you want, love?”
“Yes,” Harriet breathed. “Exactly this.”
“Bloody hell, Harriet...” His face buried in her neck. “Tell me you are mine.” He caught her gaze, his eyes bright. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.
Her hands left his hair to cup his face. “I am yours, Will. And you are mine.”
A growl, or a curse rumbled deep from his chest. His head fell to her shoulders, his rhythm not once stopping.
She pulled him tighter against her. His pace became more urgent, setting a thrilling tempo. A rush of emotion assailed her. Harriet clung to him, tightening her legs and curving into him, meeting each thrust with the same urgency she felt in him.
Harriet had never imagined she would do anything so wicked, so erotic. And in a library no less. The books and their adventures within the only witness to the flames that erupted between them.
She inhaled the scent she had never been able to escape as her body hungrily accepted him, searching...
Her nails bit into his jacket.
His hand gripped the shelf behind her as he claimed her, all finesse gone. Books tumbled around them as a thousand sensations exploded inside her all at once. The sensations were so strong that Harriet started to tremble, a wave of pleasure exploding over each nerve of her body. His other hand’s grip on her waist tightened as his strokes turned rough, more powerful.
A hoarse curse left his lips, followed by her name. Then he shuddered against her, his chest rising and falling with strong heaves. They stayed like that for a moment. Two moments. Three.
The hand that held on to the shelf joined the other around her waist. Then, without warning, the support of the shelf disappeared and he carried her to the sofa, laying her down on the pillowed surface and joining her there.
Soft. Much better than books.
He cupped her cheek, trailing kisses along her jawline. “Are you all right?”
“No.” A rush of warmth overwhelmed her at the raspy note in his voice. She wanted to hear that tone from him every day. “I’m even better.”
His face nuzzled hers. “So am I.”
