Page 74 of True North

My breath hitches as he descends my body, placing one chaste kiss to my skin at a time. It takes every inch of willpower I have to keep my eyes closed.

I grip the edges of the table, my hands desperate to hold something. Harry nudges my thighs, sending my legs wider for him, and I moan. My body burns for his touch. The throbbing in my clit drowns out every last sensation.

“Harry, please... I’m going to?—”

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch me take my fill.”

His tongue runs the length of my soaked center. I cry out, arching from the table. My hands sink into his hair as he looks up, those deep blues holding my attention. Barely shifting the air in and out of my lungs, I’m a trembling mess as I widen my legs further for him.

“Fuck,” I rasp.

Something dark flashes through his gaze.

My insides melt. When the undertone doesn’t leave his eyes, my liquefied core flips the misshaped lump over in my gut. Teeth cinch over my clit. My head falls backward, hair dangling down my bare back, hands snapping on the table behind me, bracing against my inevitable demise as Harry suckles my clit. His hot tongue forms circles over my bounding apex as he sinks two fingers into my wet center.

I hiss, a hand snatching at his hair.

I shake. Each breath is more useless than the last. He works me over with purposeful, slow precision. Like we’ve known each other’s bodies for years.

A stone forms in my airway.

We don’t.

We haven’t.

Instantly, the air merely sustaining me peters out. I shift on the table as the emotions I have kept at bay for so long break free of the dank place I shoved them, soaring into the light. Harry takes a long, hard pull on my clit with his lips, fingers thundering into me. I come hard.

The thoughts splinter and crash out around my mind, dissolving to nothing. My hips rocking, he coaxes me through every last wave of bliss.

God, this man.

Always taking his damn time.

Always paying attention.

This. This is why we’re too intense.

Why being everything to each other is dangerous. Like we climbed in this hot rod of a relationship and floored it, throwing caution to the wind.

I slump backward, lying on the table. The emotions that soared before bliss crash down on me like a concrete blanket.

A strong arm sweeps my back up and off the wooden surface. Harry tugs me, hands gripping my hips, to the table’s edge.

“Jesus, Lou...” he growls.

His erection looks painfully hard.

I want to cross that line, I really do. But my head is not moving as fast as my heart. I shake my head, with a breathy moan.

“What is it?”

I drag in a wobbly breath, and it takes every bit of nerve I have left to lift my eyes to his.

“I-I can’t.”

I want to. God knows I want to. But I know when we do this, I will be careening off this cliff, headfirst, at a million miles per hour. If I end up moving somewhere else, then what happens to us?

To Harry? I?—

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