Page 109 of The Unlikely Pair
Harry trembles under my touch.
“That’s it. Let me in,” I say in his ear as I feel his body begin to give way.
This is just sex.
The choking feeling in my throat is just because I’m the one who gets to do this for the first time with Harry, and I know what a privilege that is.
And my absolute need to go slow, to catalog every whimper and moan of his, comes from a place of pride, from a place of wanting to make this good for him because of my ego.
Doesn’t it?
I try to take my time, moving in slow, shallow thrusts to give Harry time to adjust. His head lowers to the wall, and his back arches with each stroke, his breaths coming out quickly. His fingers are splayed out, bracing against the wall.
“You all right?” I gasp.
“Yeah…” His voice sounds strung out, hoarse. “Just keep…going slow.”
“You’re doing great,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, depositing another kiss on his back as I slowly thrust deeper into him.
Fuck. This feels so incredibly amazing, being surrounded by Harry’s heat and pressure.
I finally am fully seated and hold still, giving him time to adjust.
“You good?” I ask.
“Yes. Move.”
I oblige, beginning to move inside him. The steam and my sweat combine, making everything slick, slippery, and raw.
“More,” Harry pants. “Faster.” It appears being fucked reduces Harry’s complex vocabulary down to single-word sentences.
“Go slow. Go fast. Such a contrary man,” I gasp as I obey him, speeding up my rhythm until it feels like I’m competing with the rain thundering on the roof.
God, it’s impossible to describe how this feels. Harry’s moans fill the room, driving me to go deeper, faster. I know when I’ve got the angle exactly right because his moans change into raw, unrestrained groans.
The sauna’s heat envelops us like a cocoon, the steam curling around our bodies in wispy tendrils.
I reach around to stroke him at the same rhythm I’m moving inside him, and his groans become even more guttural.
Harry’s body tenses, and I can feel him starting to shake in my arms.
“Come on, Harry,” I urge him, thrusting harder. “Let go.”
He groans loudly.
“Come for me,” I say, just above a whisper.
And just like that, he does. His body shudders, and he clenches around me, and I don’t have time to enjoy watching Harry orgasm because the way he clenches around me sends meover the edge as well, into the most epic orgasm of my life. My legs tremble with the force of it.
Holy hell. Holy, holy hell.
I pull out of him slowly and carefully, flopping onto the bench next to him.
My heart pounds, not just from the aerobic activity I’ve just done. What the hell am I going to say to him afterthat?
“Well, I’ve finally investigated, and I discovered there actually isn’t a stick stuck up your arse like I always suspected,” I say.
It appears I’m going with arse-related humor.
