I can’t even speak. I’ve never been engaged in such intense feelings coupled with dialogue. My tongue is tied, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest, but when he slides a finger into me, the power of speech returns. “Oh, fuck… Stone.”
My hips buck, tilt into his touch, begging for more. Instead, his finger slides out, wet and calloused, grazing over my sensitive clit. The pleasure is so blistering, I’m pretty confident he’s going to destroy me.
Some semblance of reciprocity filters into my addled brain, and I touch him in return. My fingers wrap around his hard length, and he’s apparently as sensitive as I am. His hips jerk and he curses, “Fuck… that feels good.”
Stone’s words have a mindless quality to them, as if he’s under a thrall, and it’s thrilling that just a simple touch from me affects him like this. It emboldens me, and I automatically sink to my knees. It dislodges his hand from between my legs—a loss I mourn, but know I’ll get back—and before he can comprehend what’s going on, I take him deep into my mouth.
A rumble of curses pours from Stone’s mouth, and I no more than get one long suck on his cock before he’s pulling me to my feet. He kisses me harshly, then looks at me with darkened eyes. “Can’t do that just now. I’m barely hanging on to my control as it is.”
“Really?” I ask breathlessly.
“You fucking stagger me, Harlow.”
His words almost make me cry, but I have no opportunity because his mouth is on me again. The kiss is almost violent in its frenzy, and then somehow, Stone has me on my back, in my bed, and he’s pulling my legs apart.
Heat and embarrassment course through me, and I try to push my legs together as he stares into my eyes.
“No doing that,” he chides, then with his hands at my ankles, he pulls me to the edge of the mattress. Stone drops to his knees, his intent clear. His hands move across me, baring me further to his gaze and then his mouth is on me.
I buck hard, call out his name, and beg him to stop. He chuckles, the vibrations causing my body to squirm and call out even louder. He wondered what it would take to get me to do those two things, and now he has his answer.
Stone shifts his head, rubs his bearded cheek on the inside of my thigh, and glances up at me. “You taste fucking amazing.”
I shudder and then buck again as the tip of his tongue circles my clit.
“I can’t,” I moan, my hands gripping the covers.
“You can. You will.” He sucks on my clit hard, and a moan comes out of me that sounds like I’m dying, but I’m not.
I’ve never felt more alive.
Stone ignores my cries, presses an arm across my stomach to hold me still, and proceeds to devour me. He uses his tongue, teeth, and fingers, and it’s almost embarrassing how fast I come.
I’m wrecked by him, as I knew I would be from the first kiss.
He stands up, beautifully naked, and stares down at me in triumph. I watch through sated eyes as he sheaths himself with a condom. He bends over the bed, slides an arm under my back, and hauls me up onto the middle of the mattress before covering me with his body. My legs part and he settles between them.
“You good?” he asks as his face hovers over mine.
I nod, offering a lazy smile.
He kisses me slowly, reaching in between our bodies to position himself. He enters me gently, his length filling me until our pelvises are pressed together.
Stone rests his forehead against mine, holds perfectly still for a very long moment until he grits out, “You feel a little too good, Harlow.”
“You don’t feel so bad yourself,” I murmur, and he chuckles, lifting his head to peer down at me. “I heard a rumor… if you move, it feels better.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes glitter with amusement as he pulls out, but when he pushes back in, no one thinks this is funny.
Because it feels so damn good, I might die.
Stone lets out a breath and moves inside me. He lifts one of my legs, wraps it around his hip, and angles into me deeper. It’s intense.
Almost unbearable.
And yet I don’t ever want it to stop.
Another orgasm crashes through me, causing me to cry out. Stone seems to respond to the plaintive note and thrusts deep before burying his face in my neck. He growls low, his body shuddering with release. I wrap my legs around his back, my arms around his neck, and I hold tight until we both come down together.
Stone rolls us to our sides, gathers me in close. Resting his chin on my head, he muses, “I wonder what Brooks thinks of this.”
It implies Brooks is watching over us, the first time Stone has acknowledged a belief that his brother’s soul lives on.
“I think he’d approve,” I murmur.
“I hope so. You knew him better than I did in the end, but I think he’d have wanted this.”
“If not, he’s going to haunt us both,” I point out.
Stone’s body shakes with laughter, and I join in. He gives me a squeeze and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be right back.”
While Stone is in the bathroom ditching the condom, I get under the covers and wait for him to come back. I replay what just happened, remembering how he felt, the tone of his words. The sensation as he came inside me.
It’s never been like that with anyone else, and I hope I’m not looking for something that might not be there merely because of our shared connection to Brooks.
I banish that thought as Stone comes back into the room. Without a word, he slides under the covers and pulls me into his body. It’s warm and he smells good.
I cuddle in close, and we don’t talk. Within minutes, his breathing is deep and he’s in dreamland.
It’s not so easy for me. I keep replaying the whole evening, committing it to memory. I don’t want to forget any of this.
Eventually, Odin comes into the room and looks at me pointedly. He needs to go potty, and I oblige without complaint. I slip out of Stone’s embrace and dress quickly. Odin and I walk the block, and he pees against a tree planted along the sidewalk.
Within five minutes, I’m back inside, naked and sliding into my bed. Stone is dead asleep, but when I scoot into him, his arms come around me without so much as a hitch in his breathing.
I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, a smile on my face when I finally drift off.
CHAPTER 21
Stone
Something scrapes across my face, not enough to hurt but enough to bring me out of a deep sleep. Before I even open my eyes, I know I’m in Harlow’s bed and that last night was beyond amazing. Last thing I remember was pulling her into my arms and drifting off to sleep. I’d never felt so relaxed—body and soul—in my life.
Things I take in immediately is that Harlow’s body is not pressed up against me. I’m on my back, incredibly hot, and something hits me again in the face.
I open my eyes, and all I see is dog paw. Black pads roughened by strolls on sidewalks, tufts of white, trimmed hair in between them, and perfectly cut claws. I know the paw is attached to Odin’s leg, and before I can raise my head to see more, the leg strikes out and the paw catches me in the cheek.
I push the leg over and stare at the furry monstrosity. Odin is on his back in between me and Harlow, dead asleep. His head is down near our feet, front arms bent into his chest and back legs sprawled like he’s in a porn magazine. One paw hovers near my face, the other near the back of Harlow’s head. She’s on her side, facing away, curled around a pillow instead of me.