Thinking of Harry fills my mind full of all sorts of erotic images. Very enticing and extremely alluring ones. Did I always think he was irresistibly sexy, or is it my magic being obsessed? I guess I will never know. All I know is that the thought of being in his arms has me throwing off my covers and jumping out of bed. I want his hands on me. I want the feel of his soft lips. I’m ripe, he won’t deny me. My magic will be calling to him like a siren’s song.
But I can’t run to him. I should at least shower first. And then I need to put a gown on, just a simple white one like I wore on my wedding night. I also need my brace. It feels like a lot to remember but I know there is even more. I think I’m supposed to knock on his door and kneel. There are some formal words to say too, but I can’t for the life of me remember what they are. My crash course in vessel etiquette was a poor substitute for two years of training and it’s hard not to feel inadequate. Even though I’m fairly certain Harry doesn’t care.
I have the quickest, yet still thorough, shower, in the history of showers. Then I get stuck putting the stupid gown on because I was in too much of a hurry to dry myself properly and the cloth is sticking to my damp skin. After some swearing and struggling, I get untangled and get the blasted thing on. I grab my brace and head for Harry’s room.
As I knock on his door a wave of adrenaline rushes through me, leaving me trembling softly. Most of it is excited anticipation, but I am also concerned if Harry is going to be happy to see me. The allure of my magic will be enticing but I want him to feel more than dutiful. I want him to want me, not just my magic.
The door opens, and the sight of him takes my breath away. His hair is shining and his eyes sparkling. He is dressed in soft gray pajamas and fully awake. He was expecting me. He steps aside to let me in but I’m transfixed by his perfect chest and well-defined arms. He even smells amazing, all masculine and musky. I could breathe it in forever.
He gently takes my hand and coaxes me to step forward, into his room. I’ve never been in here before. It’s nice. And covered in musical instruments and sheet music. Harry is a musician? I had no idea. I turn to him in confusion, but the gentle smirk on his face and the dark gleam in his eyes, tells me that music is the last thing on his mind right now. He is definitely happy to see me and the knowledge sends a warm tingle down my spine.
I am caught helplessly in his intense gaze. The way he is looking at me stirs a heat deep in my belly. My mouth goes dry and I can’t swallow.
Suddenly I’m lying on a soft mattress and Harry is above me. We are on the bed now? How did that happen? He leans down and I manage to suck in a breath just before his lips brush my own, feather soft. He is heat and passion. Lust and need. The taste of him ignites my soul. My arms encircle his neck and hungry moans flow out of me. His tongue flicks into my mouth and my back arches, seeking more of him. Reaching for him. I need every inch of him pressing against every inch of me.
His hands slip under my gown and explore my body, his touch leaving a trail of fire etched into my skin. He makes every cell in my body sing with joy. His fingers find my hole and tease me with a soft caress. Damn it, I forgot to lube up again.
Harry breaks from our kiss and looks down at me. His lips are swollen and his eyes dark. He looks more handsome than ever.
“Turn over for me,” he asks.
Wordlessly I obey. His firm hands pull my ass cheeks apart and then his hot tongue lathes my hole, sending shockwaves of pleasure shooting everywhere. The noise that comes out of me is ungodly and Harry pauses in his administrations to chuckle his appreciation. Thankfully, he soon resumes.
His tongue tortures and torments me. Driving me to levels of ecstasy I never knew existed. I’m clutching the sheets as if they can save me. As if holding onto them is going to stop me from being catapulted into another realm of existence. It’s not working. I am in a whole new reality. One where my body writhes and undulates with pleasure and the only thing that exists is lust and Harry. Our very own realm, where we are the only beings. Where I am breathing light and exuding magic.
Everything is swirling and building in a crescendo within me. Gathering like a storm. Any moment now, it’s going to unleash like a supernova.
Harry’s tongue is gone, and his cock is pushing at my entrance. Whimpering I lift my ass up towards him, welcoming the intrusion, craving it, needing it. I want to be impaled. Filled. Stretched. I want to feel Harry’s heat inside me. I want to be made complete. I need him to thrust the emptiness away.Take me. Own me. I am yours.
He eases inside me and it is everything I was yearning for and far, far more. I’m screaming in pleasure and satisfaction and I can’t stop. His strong hands claim my hips and he thrusts. Pushing me into the mattress and driving me to even more insane levels of bliss.
The rhythm he picks up is brutal and wonderful. My whole body rocks to it while I sob with ecstasy. I don’t want this perfect moment to ever, ever stop. I want him to rail me forever, keep me lost in this mindless pleasure. Nothing has ever felt so good.
But my orgasm is close, so very close. When it comes, my magic will explode out of me and I will be spent. Futility I try to keep it at bay. Try to resist, to prolong my euphoria. But it’s like trying to hold back the tide. Harry shifts his angle, and it’s one shot of sensation too much. My orgasm detonates. Sweeping away everything in its path.
Including my consciousness.
Chapter eighteen
Driftingawakefeelslikefloating in a warm current. Awareness slowly coalesces around me. There are soft, clean sheets against the bare skin of my back. Plump pillows are cradling my head. Warm covers are tucked up to my chin. I’m naked and clean. And I am alone in my own bed.
Did Harry clean me up, then carry me to my own bed and tuck me up? It’s still dark outside so I cannot tell how much time has passed. My chest tightens. He did tenderly care for me, which is much more than most vessels usually get, but he also dumped me back in my room when he was done with me. And I can’t help but feel rejected. I’d much prefer to wake up sticky and messy and in his arms.
Sighing forlornly, I roll onto my side and tuck up into a fetal position. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He is merely behaving properly and doing what he has been taught must be done.
I hug myself tighter. Of course it could absolutely mean that he doesn’t care. That I’m nothing but a vessel to him. But why am I expecting anything else? We were practically strangers not long ago, and he wasn’t exactly pleased about having to marry me. He is hardly going to fall madly in love in just a few weeks. These things take time. Nevermind the dark secrets he is hiding.
At least the sex is good.
A very undignified snort laugh escapes me and I’m so glad there is no one here to hear that. Oh dear, now I can feel myself about to descend into hysterical giggling. I’m losing my mind.
I’m clearly not going to go back to sleep and I don’t want to lie here either moping or laughing maniacally. That means only one thing. Hot chocolate.
Throwing on some pajamas and a plush dressing gown, I’m soon padding down the dimly lit and still hallways. It’s a little creepy, but I’m used to large, old houses. There is no need to be a baby about it.
The lights are on in the kitchen, and it is warm in here. I can’t help my little sigh of relief. Suddenly someone walks out of the larder at the back of the room and I nearly scream in fright. But it’s just Jem. He is wearing teal silk pajamas and has no right looking so glamorous in the middle of the night.
“Are you alright?” he asks with concern in his eyes.
