He was relaxed, his fingers still moving with nothing to say he knew of the lust that hummed through me.
“You’re okay, handsome. I’ve got you.”
But that only made it worse. Because his voice was lower, hoarser, filled with a need I hoped I wasn't imagining.
His words from last week came back. How he wanted to fuck me and make me cry out his name.
His hand softened as I pushed against him, my face leaving his shoulder.
I could feel pink blotches staining my face; my eyes stung from aching tears. My body hurt from endless hours of running around, helping people live, and watching them die.
I drew far enough away to look up, his hand cradling me as his dark gaze crashed into mine. Heat rolled through me again, more powerful, consuming me as he held me.
Tension struck me deep inside, overcome by the sight of him in the evening light that crept through his window. His face dark with need, his bottom lip dropped, ripe and ready for me. Aquiline nose that highlighted his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw I needed pressed against me. All designed to take my breath away.
“Harry...” he said, his eyes shuttering briefly before that thing, that energy that I always tried to avoid bloomed betweenus, and all thoughts of the past twenty-four hours faded as his fingers clenched my hair and he let out a ragged breath.
I couldn’t blink, couldn’t move, stuck in his grasp. Eyes wide, heart pounding in my ears, my hand crept from his shoulder to the back of his neck. It was a better angle to kiss him.
I didn’t know if I pushed him, or if he did it freely, but one second I was falling into his gaze, the next, he was moving ever so slowly toward me, his gaze flitting to my lips.
I gave the smallest groan as I closed my eyes, relief flooding through me that he was making the decision. I didn’t want to have to choose, to think. It was all I had been doing at the hospital. Everything was weighing me down and, with him, I could be free, if only for a moment.
“Can you feel me, Harry?” he murmured against my lips, pushing my hair back from my temple to curl around my ear. “Can you feel how much I want you?” I strained my head back, leaning into his hand as I looked at him again.
“Dom, I—” I panted against his lips, so close that it would be nothing for him, nothing for either of us if we moved. But it would change everything. Even though we’d had the briefest touch on the yacht, there was no chance we would repeat it. I wanted him too much for that.
“Then tell me you don't want me,” he said, his face creased with need.
My heart burst in my chest as my bottom lip dropped, so ready for him. Already my body was burning; weeks of unmet need was finally finding a home.
We watched each other, the tension so vibrant that I thought it would explode. I needed a release.
Breaths quick, hands flexing, caught under him, he waited for me. I could have tugged him, pulled him to me and not given him a real answer, but I wanted him to know how much I wanted this.
I swallowed, my throat bobbed as I searched for words. Every breath I took merged with his; my heart beating so loudly that I could feel it in my throat.
“I need to hear it, handsome.”
“I can't,” I whispered as a beat of pain sliced through me. “I can't tell you no.”
“Fuck,” he moaned, sucking in a breath before plunging into me.
The hand in my hair snaked to my back, his palm spread, his hold firm as his other cupped my jaw. He tilted my chin up to nibble on my lower lip before his tongue swept across them, and I opened my mouth, letting him in.
Dom’s groan vibrated through me, and I answered, letting him pull me closer. Pleasure bloomed through me as my mind went blank, chasing the feeling of him. His chest pressed harder into me, and I trembled at how deeply I needed him to cover my body with his. Completely, so there was no piece of me that went unloved. His softness fled, turning fiercer as I returned his kiss. With one hand on his hip, I kept him close to me as I held his neck, gluing him to me.
He was harsh and desperate and devoured me like he hadn't tasted anything for years. And I let him take me, let him do whatever he wanted to me. I just needed him to keep touching me.
I moaned as Dom's hands slipped under my shirt. He dragged his nails down my spine, and my back arched, shuddering as sparks flew across my skin.
Every nerve was alive with pleasure, and I thought nothing of the way he moved me. He guided me backwards to lie down and I let him, my head on a pillow, chin dipped as he broke the kiss.
Neither of us said a word as I swung my legs onto the sofa, and he pushed himself between them.
He let out a harsh breath as I brought my knees together, trapping his hips, keeping him fixed so he couldn’t escape me. Any second he might grow a conscience, he could change his mind and realise what a mistake it was. Because I had to push those thoughts away so I could chase what I had been craving longer than I had ever known.
Dom gripped the back of the sofa as he leaned down toward me, and I pulled him close as quickly as I could. I needed him back on me; I needed to keep going. I couldn’t lose him, not now that I’d kissed him.