No Fury

Now: Forty One

A/N: A gentle reminder that this story is M rated . . . I mean, pretty much every chapter, right? But this one in particular is for mature readers.

And really now, my sweeties: buckle up. It's getting bumpy. I love all your comments and votes. They make my day. ~Spark

~~

Harry waits at the window, naked. The light silhouettes his long torso, strong hips and perfect backside. I let my gaze slide along the muscles in his legs.

Turning, he lifts his chin. "On my bed. On your hands and knees."

I want to stop the game first, and tell him about Douglas, but something inside me tells me he already knows.

That he knows, and doesn't care.
That he wanted me for himself, and knew all he had to do was summon me.
That Douglas' wishes were a distant second.

There is a side to Harry that feels foreign to me, largely unknown. In other areas of his life, he can be entitled, and selfish. I did see it the first few nights with me. And I saw it when he left me alone to tell James.

But as I strip, and move to the bed, this realization is a relief, not a burden.

Harry is flawed, and real.
He doesn't hide his faults from me.

The kingdom sees only the sunshine. I see the sunshine, I see the shadow. This is what love is. I feel the truth of it as something solid and warm, deep in my bones, wrapping reinforcing around my ribs.

Touching the raised scar on my ring finger, I slowly lift my hands to begin untying my dress.

"Why do you move so slowly?" he asks, coming up behind me. "Were my instructions unclear?"

Scrambling, I shove my dresses down and climb on the bed, feeling the knots inside my chest slowly unfurl. One at a time, my anxieties slip away until it is just us, in this room, playing this game of cat and mouse.

"It was not enough last time," he murmurs, coming up behind me. The mattress dips as he pushes my legs apart and moves between them. "I could see it in your face. You did not scream for me."

Cool balm spreads across my backside, thick and wet, and I choke on the realization of what he has planned.

"Harry!" My back arches in surprise and thrill. "We shouldn't."

He grabs my hip. "Don't make me tie you down."

My skin flushes hot and I make to move away but he catches me easily.

He returns to his task, fingers sliding over me, one into me, then two. With this other hand he reaches forward and touches between my legs.

"You know what I'm going to do. You're dripping for this."

I close my eyes, relief and shame making tears slide down my face.

"You want it. You want me inside you in the most revolting way."

He does this for me.

I love you.
I love you.

With intent, he pushes his fingers into me and I scream out, spine arching. With his other hand, he tugs at the peaks of my breasts and curses under his breath.

"I'm so hard, too wild for the feel of this," he whispers. "You make me into a monster. I want to claim you here. It disgusts me, and I want it more than I can say."

Pressing into him, I urge him for more. He straightens and I can hear him slicking the balm over himself before he braces a hand on my hip.

"Don't," I beg, looking over my shoulder at him. "It will hurt, my lord."