A Brush with Love(64)
“I can’t forget this,” she said softly, dragging the pads of her fingers to his cheeks. Dan sucked in a shaky breath.
“You know one of my favorite things about you?” She began stroking lightly at the corners of his mouth.
Dan gave a small shake of his head. Harper felt the tension he held in every muscle, taut and ready to snap.
“Your dimple. It drives me wild.” She rested the edge of one pinky where the devious indent usually made its mark, her other hand mirroring the position. He smiled and it popped to life below her touch. She smiled too.
“Yes. That. It’s from having bifid zygomaticus major muscles. Quite the lovely anomaly if you ask me. It originates here.” She moved her fingers to the far upper corners of his cheekbones. “Normally it continues as one straight line down.” She traced her fingers along his cheeks, the prickles of stubble shooting feeling straight to her belly, where it pooled and dripped lower. “And it inserts at the corner of the mouth. But yours splits.” Her index and middle fingers separated on their path, one coming to rest at the corner of his lips, the other resting an inch below.
She stared at her hands. She couldn’t believe she could touch something so lovely. Her breathing stuttered, turning fast and shallow, her body unable to get enough air into her lungs. She saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest and knew he was drowning with her.
Her fingers started to wander, moving slowly, tracing over the silk of his lips.
His tongue peeked out, following her path, tasting her touch.
Her eyes made a languid journey up from his mouth, taking their time to absorb every beautiful inch of him, until they met his gaze. The desperate pull of their bodies had brought them closer, their noses almost touching.
Their panting breaths mingled in a cloud, fogging out the real world and leaving nothing but the raw feelings between them. Dan pulled back slightly, his eyes turning sharp and serious as he looked at Harper. He lifted an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly, in a heavy, silent question.
She knew what the answer should be. She should push away the fog, get off the desk, and pack up her things. She should go home and lay Dan to rest as the perfect fantasy.
In her imagination, he’d never hurt her; she’d always be enough just as she was, no more chasing her worth. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t feel the weight of loss and fear and insecurities. In that golden fantasy bubble, she could step back from this endless pursuit of being perfect and instead choose to just be. Be with Dan. Be herself. Be in love.
Looking at Dan, petals of pleasure unfurled deep in her belly—some sharp and nearly painful, others soft and sweet. Her skin itched and ached for his touch, and an impatient desire hummed along her hands, desperate for the instant gratification of his body beneath them. She wanted to lose herself in him.
Staring back at his unspoken question, the tiniest movement of her head gave an equally subtle answer.
It was enough.
Dan was on her before she could even process what it meant.
His lips collided with hers—no finesse, no ability to exercise caution. Just pure, unfiltered passion crashing against her. She met him with equal force, an untamed need driving her to press closer and closer against him, wanting to be marked by him. Her hands weaved themselves into his hair, and the soft tickle of it against her raging skin unleashed her.
Dan let out a soft groan as she fisted it in handfuls. He swiped his tongue against her lips, and she opened to him, far beyond denying him anything he asked for. His tongue moved against hers, searching and feeling and loving every inch of her mouth as she lost herself in the sensation. Harper wanted to touch and grab and feel every part of him, but her arms were unable to do anything but cling around his neck.
His hands slid up her thighs, leaving scorched nerves in their path. He gripped handfuls of her hips and yanked her closer, bringing her flush against him as her legs straddled his chest. The contact made her whimper, and he dragged an opened-mouth kiss along her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. Harper’s head fell back to give him more.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, and she decided she’d happily suffocate in the overwhelming sensations. His chest heaved against her with every ragged inhale, and the feel of it nearly drove her mad.
One hand still clutching her hip, he brought the other to her hair, gathering the short strands in a fist and using it to tilt her head to meet him more deeply with each kiss. Harper dug her hands into the collar of his shirt, desperate for any skin she could press her palms against.
With a grunt, Dan moved both hands to her ass, pushing out of his chair with such force it toppled behind him. He lifted Harper, gripping and kneading into her soft flesh before turning and pushing her back against the wall. All air left her, and she didn’t miss it. She was drowning in the heady rush of need and want and all she cared about was his next kiss.
Lick.
Touch.
Teeth.
Caged against his chest, she could feel their hearts clanging wildly against each other, lost in their own battle to prove which of them was more desperate for the other. The kisses slowed in their fury, but not in intensity, each becoming long and drawn out, a silent conversation of how painful holding back so many feelings had been.
Dan pulled away, and Harper helplessly stared into the green depths of his eyes. Their gazes were tethered and locked, the intensity of it heating Harper even further. Dan licked his lips with a slow hunger. He took a deep breath.