When Harry Met Molly

Her eyes widened, but she looked excited. Not afraid. “I’ll get to kiss you that way?”

“Yes,” he said. “If you remember to. You might be slightly…distracted.”

“Of course I’ll remember,” she said stoutly, and maneuvered herself over him so that her sex was mere inches from his mouth, ready for intimate exploration.

He let out a sharp breath. She’d already found his most vulnerable flesh and tentatively circled it with her tongue.

“Is this right?” Her voice was alluringly low as she bestowed a wet kiss on the tip.

“Anything’s right.” He suppressed a groan of pleasure and reminded himself to be strong—he wanted to bring her to pleasure first. Embracing her thighs with his hands, he lifted his head to her most intimate spot, letting his tongue flick in and out.

In—

Her legs buckled, and he caught her, pulling her even closer to his mouth.

And out.

All the while, she moaned against his own sex and suckled it. Stroked it with her hands. Licked it and kissed it.

He kept her petal-soft core close and loved her with his tongue and his mouth.

“I—” She struggled to stay on her knees. “I can’t wait—” She sucked him and caressed him—she was driving him wild.

He intensified his efforts. She moaned, gyrated.

Immersed in the dual pleasure of loving her and receiving her own enthusiastic, sensual ministrations, he wondered: what was this woman doing to him? It went well beyond the exquisite gratification he was experiencing at the moment. She was imprinting herself upon him in a way no other female ever had.

“Harry,” she whispered raggedly. “With me. Please. I—I’m ready. I want it. I remember from last time. What will happen.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “With me.”

“Together,” he murmured against her flesh and gripped her buttocks, plundering her with his tongue. She bucked. He gripped her tighter and felt her shudder around his mouth.

“Har-eeeeee!” she shrieked.

And then he let himself go, as well. Into her mouth. And she welcomed his seed, her hands splayed around the base of his shaft as if she were holding on to the edge of the earth. Then she collapsed, rolled to the side, her arms thrown out.

“Oh,” she said, her voice trembling. “Oh.”

Harry sighed, sat up on his elbow, and pulled on her hand. “Come here,” he managed to whisper. She was like a rag doll, but she came and flopped onto his chest.

She’d depleted him as well, in more ways than one.

“That was as close as we could get,” he said, his chin resting on her hair. “Without…complications.”

She sighed and snuggled against him. “I—I don’t see how it could get better. I shrieked, Harry. Just like Hildur said.”

He lifted his head. “Exactly what did Hildur say?”

Molly giggled. “Never mind. It was girl talk.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. No real coupling he’d ever had had come near what he and Molly had shared tonight—the closeness and the intense, unfamiliar emotions he’d felt, as well as the exquisite pleasure.

“Just wait,” he whispered to her. Her breathing was evening out. Soon she’d be asleep. “There’s more. But all in good time.”

Although she would experience it with another man.

That was the part that was killing Harry, and the reason he made sure that when he eventually got up to extinguish the lamp, he crawled under a blanket on the other side of the tent.

Chapter 33

When Harry woke up the next morning, he saw that Molly was still sound asleep, her mouth slack, one arm thrown up above her head.

He grabbed his wet clothes, turned away, and stepped out of the tent into the fresh morning air, allowing himself only the smallest of sentimental grins. Last night had been…amazing, yes. But he couldn’t think about Molly that way anymore. He must think of her as his entry in the contest instead. She must, too. Neither of them could afford to forget he had a one-in-five chance of getting legshackled to another woman.

Thankfully, she’d made it clear last night she agreed with him wholeheartedly—there could be no serious attachment between them.

It was time to win.

He eyed his wet breeches distastefully before pulling them on.

And just in time.

“Good morning!” Molly poked her head out of the tent and smiled broadly at him. Her long lustrous brown hair hung free, and she was once more back in her own gown.

It seemed her usual vigor had been restored by a good couple of hours of sleep… after.

He grinned. “Ready to head back? Prinny’s servants will clean up here.”

“All right. But…I—I need to fold some blankets first.”

“Oh.” He fumbled for an excuse to give her a few minutes alone. “I just remembered I need to inspect a tree down the trail. Why don’t I do that and come back…soon?”

“Thank you,” she said, looking relieved. “You’re very thoughtful.”

He smiled, gave her a little salute, and took off down the trail. Somehow Molly made him feel like a hero about the smallest things, which was quite nice. And different from the way Fiona and his other mistresses had complimented him. They’d always flattered him with a lofted brow, a pursed mouth. The old come-hither look.

Molly treated him more like a friend.

He’d never had a woman he’d seen up close and naked treat him like a friend. Was it lowering? An affront to his pride?

Or refreshing?

He stopped, took a moment to inhale the fresh morning air, washed clean by last night’s rain.

Refreshing, he decided.

In fact, for some reason he felt like a new man this morning, ready for anything. Sir Richard’s threats seemed far away. And so did his departure from this place and from Molly. He vowed to enjoy every minute of their last full day together.

Molly splashed water on her face from a bucket of water left by one of Prinny’s servants. And blushed. Harry had once again performed wonders on her last night.

He’d seen her completely naked, too. Up close!

She couldn’t believe it!

But she must not think of that. It was daylight now. The truth was plain—she and Harry had one more day together, and then they each must go to their other lives.

She would be practical. So she went back into the tent and folded the blankets, all the while trying to focus on the finale—not on Harry.

She would win tonight! Everyone would be amazed!

But she did wish she could see Harry naked again. And she wished he could do more things to her, and she to him.

Oh, dear. She would have to stop those thoughts for the rest of the day. She would think about the