More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

“Desperately, is it?”

“So fucking desperately,” he reiterated fervently.

“Do you think that’s wise?” she asked softly, and he shook his head.

“I know it’s not. But I can’t resist you, Tina! I never could.” He dropped his forehead to hers, and then, before either one of them could think about it any further, he claimed her lips in the sweetest of kisses. His mouth exerted only the slightest pressure, while his tongue delicately flicked along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. Despite his words, there was nothing desperate in his kiss; he kept it patient and undemanding. He took his time exploring her mouth, her lips, her tongue . . . and it was absolutely wonderful.

“Come here, sweetheart.” His hands fell to her hips as he encouraged her to crawl into his lap. She happily complied, sitting sideways with her butt against his crotch. She wriggled a bit trying to get comfortable, and he groaned.

“Sorry, but there’s no room for my ass with this thing taking up practically all the space in your lap,” she complained, and he laughed, the sound strained.

“Nothing I can do about that right now,” he said, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He swelled even more beneath her butt, and she lifted her hips and looked at him sternly.

“Stop that—you’re making it hard for me to get comfortable,” she mock scolded him.

“Not as hard as you’re making it!” He couldn’t resist the lame pun but was rewarded when her eyes lit in amusement.

“That was terrible,” she said with a giggle.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, kissing her again. Things became serious in very short order after that.

“I love these dresses,” he said after trying to wriggle his hand down her bodice, without making any progress. It was very fucking frustrating. “But they’re very difficult to work with.”

“Hold on,” she said and clambered off his lap to stand in front of him. She turned her back to him, brushing her fall of hair to the side. “Unzip me.”

He stared at her gorgeous round ass for a moment before sweeping his ravenous gaze upward, past the dip of her waist, her back, to where her off-the-shoulder red dress revealed pale, freckled skin. She was absolute perfection, and he couldn’t wait to get the tight dress off her. He leaped to his feet, then grimaced, taking a moment to adjust himself.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re built like a sexier, curvier Jessica Rabbit?” he asked reverentially, and she laughed.

“All tits and ass, you mean?”

“Just two of my favorite things.” His fingers slowly tracked the line where the dress ended and flesh began, shoulder to shoulder, and she shuddered. He traced it halfway back to where the zipper was, and, after taking the time to scatter kisses over a few random freckles, he unzipped her. And, taking his time, he revealed her soft skin, inch by silky inch. Trailing more soft kisses down her spine. She was wearing a strapless bra, and he took a moment to unclasp the lacy red thing before continuing with his appointed task. The zipper ended just below the small of her back, revealing the band of her low-riding lace panties.

Harris slipped his hands beneath the gaping fabric of the dress and moved them around front, cupping her breasts beneath her loosened bra and pulling her back against him, until her naked back was flush against his fully clothed front.

He nuzzled her neck just below her ear, and she gasped, her nipples, already hot little beads beneath his palms, tightened further. She arched voluptuously against him, her own hands coming up to cover his through her dress.

“Harris.” Her voice cracked sexily on his name. “Please.”

“No rush, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. I’m going to make love with you, and it’s going to be slow and thorough. I’m going to make you beg and scream and come. Many, many times. And that’s a promise.”

The man knew how to keep his promises, Tina marveled two hours later. She was limp, sated, and exhausted and had less energy than a sloth. She lay sprawled, facedown, on the bed, with an arm thrown over his hard, naked chest and a leg flung over his thighs. He was running his fingertips lazily up and down her spine.

“Hmth pho moob,” she mumbled incoherently into his chest, which rumbled when he laughed.

“Didn’t catch that,” he said.

And she managed to lift her heavy head enough to form proper words.

“Was so good,” she praised, patting his abs in appreciation.

“Happy you enjoyed it. I know I did.” He had been incredibly gentle, sweet, considerate . . . loving. She had lost count of her orgasms, and she knew he had come a few times as well, which had been revelatory. She hadn’t known a man could do that and still continue. He’d merely changed condoms and carried on.