arms.
“Harper?” he mumbled against her mouth even as his lips plucked at her hungry ones. “What are you doing?”
“Making love to you,” she whispered, turning her head to get a better angle on his mouth and penetrating his lips with her tongue. He tasted divine. Their kiss turned hot and wet. He tried to shift her off of him onto the wide couch. She instinctively understood he wanted to come down over her, hold her down, make her a fixed target to ensure she received every ounce of pleasure he conferred.
“No,” she whispered, gripping his hips with her knees and keeping herself in place. “I’m making love to
you.”
“It’s a mutual thing,” he replied wryly, tangling his fingers in her long hair.
“It is, but it isn’t.
You
give and take. You take from me, and I offer it willingly. But you hardly ever let me
just
give
,”
she murmured, plucking at his lips hungrily. His hips flexed up slightly against his weight, and she felt his arousal. Relief swept through her. Given his preferences in bed, she’d worried he might be turned off by her aggressiveness. “Just relax, Jacob. Let me make you feel good.”
“You always make me feel good.”
“
I
have something to give. Let me
touch
you, Jacob.”
Her plea seemed to hang around them, swirling in the cool night air. Had he sensed that she meant more than touch him physically? She thought maybe he had, given the tension level of his body. He didn’t reply or move. Slowly, cautiously, she began to move her hands, sliding them across his muscular shoulders and powerful chest. Tears stung her eyes for some reason. She was reacting purely on feeling in that moment. He was so amazing to her. So miraculous.
She sunk her head, her lips moving feverishly across his skin.
“Harper, honey,” he said, and there was an edge to his tone as she delicately licked and then sucked at a small, flat nipple, making it stiffen. His fingers dug in her hair aggressively. By the time she kissed and ran her tongue along the side of his ribs, small bumps had raised along his skin. She flicked her tongue and he growled softly. She closed her eyes. It was sublime, feeling his body react so completely to her touch, feeling his power coil and tighten, starting to strain to break free.
A moment later, she knelt over his thighs and held the base of his cock in one hand, caressing the shaft and fat crown with the other. She stroked him for a while, admiring him in the soft starlight. She flicked the thick rim beneath the head with her fingers, and he made a rough sound. She looked up and saw that he’d come up on his elbows, and was watching her through narrowed eyelids. His face looked hard and shadowed, mysterious and beautiful in the glow of the stars. Holding his stare, she came down over him and squeezed her lips around the flaring head of his cock.
* * *
He held his breath, watching her take him into her mouth. Why were her cheeks damp from tears? The moment felt so fragile to him. Harper herself seemed like something from a dream, her graceful limbs and stunning face nuanced by moonlight. Her mouth wasn’t made of smoke and shadow, though. She clamped him hard with her lips. She sunk down on him, and he shuddered as pure pleasure rippled through him. Her mouth was hot. Sultry. And her suck . . .
“Harper,” he whispered harshly, one hand cupping the back of her head. She took him deep again, her mouth pulling at him. Not just his cock. She drew on something deep inside him. Her head bobbed forcefully for a moment. He winced in pleasure. Christ, it felt good. And she was so beautiful. He couldn’t take his eyes off the vision of her giving . . . and giving. He briefly fantasized about standing and bringing her to a sitting position, holding her head while he pierced her beautiful mouth . . .
. . . But the experience of being the target of her desire held him spellbound, as well. His paradoxical need created a friction in him: the need to dominate
“Harper?” he mumbled against her mouth even as his lips plucked at her hungry ones. “What are you doing?”
“Making love to you,” she whispered, turning her head to get a better angle on his mouth and penetrating his lips with her tongue. He tasted divine. Their kiss turned hot and wet. He tried to shift her off of him onto the wide couch. She instinctively understood he wanted to come down over her, hold her down, make her a fixed target to ensure she received every ounce of pleasure he conferred.
“No,” she whispered, gripping his hips with her knees and keeping herself in place. “I’m making love to
you.”
“It’s a mutual thing,” he replied wryly, tangling his fingers in her long hair.
“It is, but it isn’t.
You
give and take. You take from me, and I offer it willingly. But you hardly ever let me
just
give
,”
she murmured, plucking at his lips hungrily. His hips flexed up slightly against his weight, and she felt his arousal. Relief swept through her. Given his preferences in bed, she’d worried he might be turned off by her aggressiveness. “Just relax, Jacob. Let me make you feel good.”
“You always make me feel good.”
“
I
have something to give. Let me
touch
you, Jacob.”
Her plea seemed to hang around them, swirling in the cool night air. Had he sensed that she meant more than touch him physically? She thought maybe he had, given the tension level of his body. He didn’t reply or move. Slowly, cautiously, she began to move her hands, sliding them across his muscular shoulders and powerful chest. Tears stung her eyes for some reason. She was reacting purely on feeling in that moment. He was so amazing to her. So miraculous.
She sunk her head, her lips moving feverishly across his skin.
“Harper, honey,” he said, and there was an edge to his tone as she delicately licked and then sucked at a small, flat nipple, making it stiffen. His fingers dug in her hair aggressively. By the time she kissed and ran her tongue along the side of his ribs, small bumps had raised along his skin. She flicked her tongue and he growled softly. She closed her eyes. It was sublime, feeling his body react so completely to her touch, feeling his power coil and tighten, starting to strain to break free.
A moment later, she knelt over his thighs and held the base of his cock in one hand, caressing the shaft and fat crown with the other. She stroked him for a while, admiring him in the soft starlight. She flicked the thick rim beneath the head with her fingers, and he made a rough sound. She looked up and saw that he’d come up on his elbows, and was watching her through narrowed eyelids. His face looked hard and shadowed, mysterious and beautiful in the glow of the stars. Holding his stare, she came down over him and squeezed her lips around the flaring head of his cock.
* * *
He held his breath, watching her take him into her mouth. Why were her cheeks damp from tears? The moment felt so fragile to him. Harper herself seemed like something from a dream, her graceful limbs and stunning face nuanced by moonlight. Her mouth wasn’t made of smoke and shadow, though. She clamped him hard with her lips. She sunk down on him, and he shuddered as pure pleasure rippled through him. Her mouth was hot. Sultry. And her suck . . .
“Harper,” he whispered harshly, one hand cupping the back of her head. She took him deep again, her mouth pulling at him. Not just his cock. She drew on something deep inside him. Her head bobbed forcefully for a moment. He winced in pleasure. Christ, it felt good. And she was so beautiful. He couldn’t take his eyes off the vision of her giving . . . and giving. He briefly fantasized about standing and bringing her to a sitting position, holding her head while he pierced her beautiful mouth . . .
. . . But the experience of being the target of her desire held him spellbound, as well. His paradoxical need created a friction in him: the need to dominate
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