His length flames and the flames lick at my insides, heating me so much I have to bite down onto his sculpted shoulder to stop from screaming.
We sink into the motion of our sex, rocking back and forth.
I slide my hands down his taut muscles, over his back, up to his neck to smooth my hands through his hair.
Soon we’re bucking like our lives depend on it.
Nothing exists but his deep moaning in my ear, the way his massive cock fills me up completely, pressing firmly against the walls of my soaked pussy.
I bite down on his lip as the tingling spreads up and down my legs.
“I can feel you getting close,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.
He kisses me, surprisingly softly, leaving a tender spot on my neck.
“Come, Grace,” he moans. “I’m so damn close. Let’s finish together.”
“Ahhhhh,” I cry, my release surging through me at his words, as if they were waiting for his fricking permission. I gyrate my hips, grinding from the tip of his length right down to the base. “Fricking hell, Harry. Jeez, come, baby. Come for me, too.”
He roars like an uncaged beast, his whole body going ultra-tense for a second, veins standing out on his biceps like there’s so much adrenaline in him he’s going to burst.
“Fuck,” he moans as our bucking finally slows down, his cock wilting inside of me.
I brace his face in my hands, holding my nose close to his like we used to.
I don’t even care that I can hear campers moving down the hallways now, returning from an excursion, their footsteps echoing and their voices rising.
With Harry’s naked body on top of mine and zero space between us now – physically and, yeah, emotionally – I just don’t give a damn.
“Grace,” he whispers, “I’m so goddamn happy we could make this right.”
A glowing smile smooths across my features, my chest feeling light, breezy, carefree.
“Me too, playboy.”
“Hey.” He grins, dropping down next to me so that the mattress tilts toward him, sagging under the hard rock of his toned body. “You were playing me too, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” I giggle, hugging close to him, not even feeling the urge to put on any clothes. “I guess you’ve got me there. I guess we’re as bad as each other, right?”
He makes patterns in my hair with his fingers. “We always were, Grace,” he whispers. “Ever since we were kids.”
