She realized, as she reached around to unhook her bra, that she did trust him. And she knew without a doubt that not only would Harrison Moore take care of her to the best of his ability, but that his best was heads and tails above the rest. She gave in, sitting up on her knees, waiting for his next instruction.
Harry sank onto the bed, his lips on hers, his hands on her body, and before she knew it, she was prone, with him above her, his cock straining toward her.
“Do you want it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice a whisper.
“Ask me for it.”
Normally, Willow would dissolve into nervous giggles, never one for talking during sex. But with Harry’s eyes holding her gaze, making her feel strong, she didn’t even falter. “May I please have your dick inside me?”
He groaned as he held himself in one hand, angling his crown toward her opening and with one firm, slow thrust, he slid inside her. The orgasms that he had teased into existence threatened to overwhelm her, all of them bearing down on her as he began to move. “Harry,” she said, his name almost a cry for help. “I can’t hold it back anymore. I have to come.” She whimpered as he thrust inside again.
“Don’t hold it back. Come for me.”
She didn’t have to think twice about obeying that particular order. She shattered around him, crying out, one orgasm blending into the next, and on into the next. She had trusted him to take care of her, trusted him to meet her needs. Trusted him with the most delicate part of herself and boy, had that ever paid out.
Harry gained speed as his own orgasm built and Willow couldn’t believe it as her body answered his, her muscles clenching again and again as wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through her. Harry finished with a shudder, a primal sound of satisfaction filling the room while Willow quivered around him, her fourth orgasm bringing his name to her lips.
Nothing had ever felt so right.
No one had ever felt so good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harry
Harry collapsed next to Willow and pulled her into his arms. When she snuggled in, he rolled onto his back so she could rest her head on his chest. “That was everything I hoped it would be and more,” he said, lifting his head to kiss her hair. Her smell, her taste, the way she gave herself to him—holding back her orgasms when he could feel the tension thrumming through her body…it was intoxicating.
“And more,” she murmured into his chest. “And more, and more, and still some more.” She ran her hand up his stomach and let it rest near her face. “And did I mention some more? Because there was definitely some more.” He could feel her cheeks pull up in a smile and he wrapped his arms even tighter around her.
“Oh, I’ll give you more. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I’ll give you all the more you could possibly handle.” And he meant it. Lying next to her with sweat still drying on his body, with his heart still racing and his chest still heaving, his balls clenched and damned if his dick wasn’t coming back to life as he ran his hand up her lithe body.
She lifted her head from his chest, a smile gleaming in her eyes. “Surely, you don’t have more in you. Not already.” As she spoke, she ran her hand down his torso and wrapped her long fingers around his rapidly hardening dick. She widened her eyes. “You do!” She squeezed and moved her hand up his shaft. “Why, Harrison Moore, who ever would have thought you were such a beast?”
In one swift movement, he managed to flip them both over, with her on her back, her wrists pinned overhead, and him towering over top. “I’ll show you what a beast I am.”
* * *
After another round of orgasms and a shower—complete with a surprise orgasm of its own—Harry found himself sitting out on his deck with Willow, not sure what he was enjoying more.
The view.
The company.
Or the conversation.
Or maybe they all blended together to create the most perfect afternoon of all time. Because without Willow at his side, it would just be another chance to look at the ocean. And without her words in his ear, it would just be another voice responding to what he had to say. Maybe, his perfect afternoon was because of that perfect woman.
And holy shit, was she ever perfect.
“So,” he said, threading his fingers with hers. “I guess we should finally get to the real reason I called you here today.”
“That wasn’t the real reason?” Willow gestured back toward the house with her head. “Well, damn. Now I’m hurt.”
“Okay, you caught me. I fully intended to fuck you senseless today. But I have a secondary real reason for wanting you here.”
“You definitely succeeded at fucking me senseless. I’m still not sure I can trust my legs to hold me up. That thing you did in the shower…”
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
“I like you.”
Harry smiled and pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her. “Well good. Because I like you, too.”
“So, this secondary real reason…?”
“It’s about Juliet and Ian. As best man and maid of honor, I think we’re supposed to throw them a bachelor or bachelorette party, as the case may be.”
Willow grimaced. “Don’t remind me. I don’t know anything about anyone here, or anything about the best places to go out. It’s going to be the lamest party and I have officially earned the title of worst maid of honor ever.”
Harry
