In Pursuit

by Luck, Olivia

  “I want to take you to my bedroom, Edith.”

  Tentatively, I reach up to run a hand through the short hairs on his head. When I respond, I make sure to keep my eyes locked on his so he can see my emotions. Confident. Aroused. After a night of barriers, now free.

  “Yes.”

  There’s no pause as he swiftly strides from the living room into his large bedroom. He doesn’t bother with the lights; the city skyline provides plenty of illumination for his bedroom. Very carefully, like I’m made of the most delicate silks, he sits me on the cloud of bedding. My legs hang over the edge of the bed and he drops to the ground to unfasten my wedges and tug them off my feet, reminiscent of the night he took me home from Luminous. Once each shoe comes off, he leans down to press a kiss on each arch, which sends me into a fit of giggles.

  “Ticklish?” He’s amused, too, a gleam sparkling in his eyes.

  “Maybe only from foot kisses.”

  “We’ll have to test that another day,” he murmurs. The gaze in his gray eyes goes from playful to darkened with desire in a matter of seconds. He moves to sit next to me on the bed, a hand reaching out to cup my cheek in his usual grip.

  “Where should I start?” he asks in that same deep rumble. His eyes survey my face and shoulders, lingering on my breasts. “I don’t think I can resist any part of you, so I have to explore every inch.”

  Then he dips down, pressing a trail of kisses from my neck to ear lobe. His free hand lifts and begins plucking at the buttons of my blouse. With quick work, he’s pushing it off and I’m topless, just a lacy ivory bra covering my swelling, sensitive breasts. His fingertips tickle down from my neck to my waist.

  “Harris,” I whimper.

  “Patience.”

  The instruction doesn’t stop me from slipping my hands underneath the soft shirt he’s wearing. I tug at it, attempting to pull it off. With a teasing smirk, Harris moves away to yank off his shirt the way guys do, pulling from the material from behind with no worry of stretching out the garment. Then, with one swift movement, he finally reveals his chest. The perfectly sculpted pecs and defined abs instantly dry my mouth.

  My hands need to be on him. Now.

  I stroke my fingernails up to his nipples, drawing light teasing circles on his chest. As I lean in toward his nipple, Harris places a firm grip on my shoulders, holding me in place. “Did I say you could kiss my chest?”

  My eyes fly up to his, the sexy smile still in place. I realize he’s teasing, but can sense a strong desire from him for control. I shake my head slowly.

  “Then wait your turn.”

  He assumes the position he had earlier on the couch, kneeling between my legs.

  Our eyes lock, emotion crackling between us.

  I lift my hands to his cheeks, pulling him closer, and let my lips convey the words I’m not yet ready to say. The kiss is full of tenderness, but when we retreat, it’s clear that Harris wants more than just gentle, romantic kisses.

  He reaches behind me and unfastens my bra, releasing my aching breasts. My nipples are already pebbled, waiting with heady anticipation for his attention.

  His left hand reaches my right breast, completely covering it in his palm. He gently massages, circling my nipple with his thumb. Instinctively, I lift my legs, wrapping them around his back and tug our bodies closer, attempting to grind my throbbing pussy against his warm waist.

  He lets out a low growl and lowers his lips to my sensitive nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His teeth bite gently causing me to jerk against him.

  “So pretty.” The vibrations of his voice cause my body to tremble.

  I’m unable to contain my breathy moans as he feasts on my body. My head drops back and I arch forward, begging for attention. His lips move to my other breast while he tweaks and teases the now exposed and wet nipple. I thrust my hips into his body, desperate for friction.

  With strong and confident hands, he moves my body backward on the bed so he can finish undressing me. With unhurried movements, he unbuttons my jeans and helps me lift my hips to slide them and my thong off in one smooth swoop. Then I’m laying before him, completely bare, and stretched out across the bed. He’s hovering above me, his eyes roaming around my form reverently.

  “You are exceptional.”

  I can’t wait much longer, my pussy tingling for release, my body writhes against the bed.

  “Harris, please.”

  Then the cocky smirk is back. He knows what I want.

  He deftly slides out of his jeans and boxer briefs, revealing a throbbing erection. Some people say the male body isn’t nearly as beautiful in comparison to the female form. These people clearly haven’t seen Harris Grant – cut from marble and sporting a large, thick cock, ready to slip deep inside of me.

  He’s back on the bed, crawling between my spread legs.

  He starts at my thighs, nibbling and sucking at the tender skin. He slowly, so slowly, moves upward, placing a sucking kiss to my lips, and a low moan escapes.

  “Such a tight little pussy,” he says between his electrifying kisses. “Dripping and ready for me.”

  "Please."

  “What do you want?” he teases me, moving away from the spot that needs his lips the most.

  “Only you,” I breathe.

  The declaration breaks his teasing, and he uses his powerful arms to launch his body off me, and he stalks over to the side table to pull out a condom. He quickly sheaths his cock with the protection.

  His knees not so gently nudge my legs apart as he crawls between me.

  “This won’t be slow,” he tells me roughly.

  “Good.”

  In one powerful thrust he enters me, his cock throbbing inside of me. His strokes come hard and fast. I lift my legs to wrap them around his waist, urging him to deeper.

  “You’re so wet,” he groans. “So tight.”

  No man has talked dirty to me in this way. It’s hot, so hot, I’m practically ready to come with just the sound of his raspy voice.

  My arms reach up and wrap around his back. I dig my fingernails into his skin, crying out his name. He slams into me, bringing me closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

  Then he adjusts his grip, moving his hands around my ass to lift my body up off the bed and closer to him. His lips are fused to my neck, sucking the skin between his teeth.

  “I am yours and you are mine,” he grounds out against my neck.

  “Yes,” I agree, bucking against him as his thrusts become more urgent, more intense if possible. The buzzing low in my belly starts to demand my attention. It’s spreading through my body at a rapid pace, the telltale signs of an orgasm stirring.

  “Harris,” I moan. “I’m going to come.”

  “Not. Yet,” he grits, dropping my body back to the bed. Using my legs around his hips, I urge him harder and deeper.

  “Please, please,” I beg.

  “Now,” he roars.

  Screaming his name, I release my orgasm, my walls constricting around his throbbing cock. He’s still pumping furiously, moaning my name as he climaxes.

  “Edith, Edith.” He drops his chest to mine like he sunk to the bottom of the ocean. He tucks his face into the crook of my neck, not speaking. I feel the same way, panting against his chest. His semi hard cock remains inside of me, twitching with the remnants of the intoxicating experience we just shared. With an annoyed groan, he pushes himself off my body and disposes of the condom. Then he’s back, wedging one leg between mine, draping an arm across my stomach and pressing his cheek to my collarbone.

  Sex with Harris was fiery and intimate at the same time. He had my body singing for him, playing me like I would a piano. Underneath the layers of lust lies a connection so deep, it leaves me floating in tranquility.

  And now, with my heart thumping at a slow and steady cadence, I cradle him to my chest and try my damnedest to enjoy the moment, soak up the little things: the tickle of his breath on my skin, the bead of sweat trickling down my neck, the warmth of
his body cloaking mine.

  We lay there for what feels like hours, I’m gently scratching at his skin in long, sweeping movements. His breaths became measured and even, he must have been so relaxed that he fell asleep. I stop with my light touches, and wrap my arms around him as tightly as I can, squeezing our bodies together.

  “Harris,” I whisper his name to myself but it causes him to stir, his tongue flicking out on my neck to alert me he’s awake.

  “My tiny but mighty Edith wore me out,” he says gruffly.

  “I love holding you like this.”

  “I never feel more at peace than when I’m in your arms.”

  The words fill a longstanding ache inside of me. My eyes close as I revel in his words.

  “Don’t want to let you go,” he groans into my hair.

  “Then stay like this,” I whisper, resuming his back massage. He moans in appreciation. A few minutes later, I join him, drifting off into a dreamless slumber.

  Some time later, I wake up when I realize I’m being tucked underneath the blankets. A heavy and familiar arm curls around my lower belly, and then I’m cuddled against his chest. I nuzzle my cheek into the bicep that rests underneath me.

  “You are the world’s best pillow,” I murmur sleepily.

  His body vibrates with a chuckle. “And you’re just the world’s best. Period.”

  I sigh in contentment. “Good night, haunting Harris.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  My lips pucker then brush against his skin lovingly. My response comes out as a soft hum in confirmation. His arms tighten around me.

  “Goodnight, electric Edith.”

  Once again, a persistent beeping draws me out of slumber. This time, I’m still in the safety of Harris’ embrace, so I burrow deeper. “Don’t get up. This is too comfortable.”

  He shifts momentarily, slapping a hand down on the alarm to silence it. Then he settles against me, pressing his morning arousal into my ass.

  “I don’t want to go.” His breath is hot and tantalizing against my ear. I forget about the fog of sleep, my senses stirring for sexual satisfaction.

  “Go where?” I attempt to flip in his embrace but he holds me firmly in place, his pointer finger tracing circles around my navel.

  “I have to go meet with a client in New York for the next couple of days. I’ll be back on Friday.”

  “What?” I can’t help but it comes out like a whine.

  “You could always come with me,” he whispers into my ear.

  “I have a meeting at the Mart tomorrow,” I grumble unhappily.

  In one fluid movement, he jumps off the bed and then plucks me into his arms. With long strides, he takes us into the bathroom. He sets me on the quartz countertop as he walks into the oversized shower stall and turns on multiple shower heads.

  “We need to make up for lost time before it’s lost,” he murmurs seductively and tugs me in for a kiss.

  I reach up to twine my arms around his neck, slanting my head to allow room for his roaming tongue. With another quick move, he’s carrying me into the shower. Harris sets me on my feet, underneath the warm spray of the water. I tilt my head backward, allowing the water to sluice across my body. A deep rumble causes a slow grin to slide across my face.

  The tip of his hard cock presses into my stomach as he leans down to kiss me again. “You are irresistible,” he mumbles in the space between our lips. A second later he spins me around so that I’m facing the wall.

  “Bend over,” he commands. When I don’t comply fast enough, he puts his hand flat on my back, urging me forward. My sex quivers in delight at his dominance.

  One hand grips me lightly on my bent hip. His other hand drifts around to the v between my legs, his middle finger probing at my lips.

  “You like that, Edith?”

  “Yes,” I whimper. “More... please.”

  “Like this?” He slips his middle finger inside of me, sliding it in and out at a torturous rhythm. I buck against his hand.

  “Please, please,” I gasp.

  “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  Another finger increases the growing ache between my thighs.

  “Only you, Harris, I want you.” My beg nearly comes out as a sob as I twitch beneath his touch.

  “That’s my girl,” he encourages, as he retracts his finger at an achingly slow pace. A moment later, both hands take their place on my hips and he thrusts inside of me in one fluid motion.

  “Harris!” I cry out.

  With a grunt, he begins to furiously pump inside of me, his balls slapping against my ass. One hand coils around my wet hair, and he yanks it backward. It shoots sprinkles of painful pleasure down my neck.

  I can feel my pussy tightening with each thrust. Kernels of energy build inside of me as my teeth clamp down on my lower lip to keep from crying out.

  “Hold it,” he barks again, dropping my hair abruptly and squeezing my hips tightly in his palms.

  “Ohh,” I groan as my climax nears closer.

  Harris moves a hand to my clit, teasing my tender spot. It’s more than I can withstand, and my orgasm explodes, nearly causing my knees to buckle. Luckily, I don’t have to stand on my own too much longer as Harris shouts out of his release.

  Even though he’s come, he continues to pump inside me slowly, unwinding from the climax. He rubs a hand over my ass, breathing heavily.

  “Oh, Edith."

  When he’s caught his breath, Harris slides out of me quickly and turns me around, cupping my face in his hands.

  “Fuck, fuck – did I hurt you?”

  I shake my head shyly, gripping at his biceps to keep me upright. “I liked it. Couldn’t you tell?”

  He shakes his head ruefully pressing a kiss onto my forehead. “Edith, I don’t know what came over me, but we didn’t use a condom.”

  “I know,” I admit. “I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested.”

  “You consume me, and I didn’t think.” He sighs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve been tested, too, but more than that,” his eyes search mine, “it’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone.”

  I press my finger to his lips. “I trust you.”

  Even though I’m swimming in them, Harris bundles me in a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt to travel home.

  “You look good in my clothes,” he says with satisfaction.

  My clothes from the night before find a home in a leather Gucci travel bag (just an extra he had lying around). Once we’re ready to go, a driver picks us up from his home. Harris is going directly to the airport.

  Now we’re in the backseat of the car on the short journey back to my place. Even though it’s definitely wrinkling his suit, I’m molded to his side. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s clutching me to him tightly, dropping kiss after kiss in my hair and murmuring sweet words of how much he’ll miss me.

  I shouldn’t be, but I'm surprised when tears well up in my eyes when we reach the first stop.

  The driver starts to get out of the car to let me out, but Harris stops him.

  “Wait.” With one word the driver resumes his stoic stance in the front seat of the car.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” he asks again as I unwrap myself from his embrace. This is the third time in the past hour he's suggested that I travel with him.

  “Duty calls,” I respond glumly.

  “Then we better make this goodbye count.” Both of his arms pull me into his welcome embrace, and our lips fuse together. The driver in the front of the car is ignored, and all I can focus on are the emotions swirling inside me. Lust. Warmth. Pleasure. Love.

  What?

  “Harris,” I gasp when we break apart. “I’m really going to miss you.”

  He lifts a hand to curl a few fingers around the shell of my ear. “Don’t get used to it.”

  “Used to what?”

  “Missing me. I plan on keeping you by my side as often as possible.” />
  “That would be good,” I say shyly.

  His fingers fall from my face, and he turns to gracefully climb out of the car. His hand reaches inside, offering to help me out. I clasp his hand, letting him tug me out into the morning air.

  Before I depart, we grab on to one another for a tight hug.

  “I’ll be in touch.” He taps a finger to my nose.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  As I’m walking toward my building, I pause, glancing over my shoulder for one last glimpse of him. He’s leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed over his chest, and a naughty smile playing at his lips.

  I can’t help the goofy grin, and I lift my hand to blow him a playful kiss. He reaches up and catches it, putting it against his heart. A giggle escapes me and I turn back to enter the building.

  A chirp from my phone alerts me of a message when I’m in the elevator.

  Harris: Masculinity be damned, I miss you already

  Eddie: The feeling is mutual. Hurry back to me.

  Harris: I’m with you always, maybe not physically…

  Other than my family and Sarah, I haven’t told anyone that I love them. Not because I think love is so unattainable, but I truly don’t think I’ve felt it for anyone. Definitely not Jared, or the other boyfriend I had before him. I’ve known him for a little less than a month, it’s unreal that I feel this way, but I want to dial Harris and tell him I love him.

  Is this how I'm supposed to feel?

  As quietly as possible, I unlock the front door and creep into our apartment. Silence greets me in the foyer, but I continue to use light feet to walk toward my bedroom. It’s barely seven yet, so Claire is most likely in her room. When I’m closer to our bedrooms, I strain my ears to the sound of the shower running. In my room, I soundlessly close the door, deposit my things on my dresser and climb into my bed.

  If anyone ever asks me, I’ll deny this, but the truth is that it happened. Harris’ soft shirt smells just like him; I may have taken the one he wore last night to wear today (telling him I don’t want to mess up another shirt) just so I could snuggle up to his scent. I tug up the collar, taking a deep inhalation.