Verboten

8.

Harry provided the opportunity for you to find your climax once with the efforts of his tongue and fingers and another time with sex; this instance he had you on your back, his eyes staying with you until you were unable to keep them open with the waves of gluttony washing over you.

You had fallen asleep tucked into his side, your nose hidden into the angle of his jaw as you inhaled and exhaled the aphrodisiac and calming benefits of his rose perfume. He laid casually with one hand tucked underneath his head and the other curled around your shoulders to hold you close. You rubbed your feet against his calves and ankles as you tried but failed to keep your eyes open, knowing that women were not permitted to sleep in guest rooms due to safety and for general limits concerning money and time constraints.

Harry had nearly drifted after the saloon quieted to a dull roar with the drunken rambles of a few lingering patrons. Your fingertips traced shapes across his chest and stomach, outlining his tattoos and tangling the chain of his bold cross necklace around your index finger until he could feel your breathing calm to a soothing rhythm against his neck that almost lulled him to sleep as well.

When he had purchased you from the stranger, his only intention was to unshackle you from the dubious man who hid in the shadows and kept to himself, his gun blaring loudly at his hip and his gait flagrant and wicked all while keeping your father off of his tracks. Harry had wanted you to have a night of peace and quiet, away from the buzz of the saloon and free from the binds of the burden of your work.

He hadn't expected you to tempt him with such strength and unrelenting appeal; he was clearly attracted to you and he had tried with all of his might to keep you at arm's length from the moment he saw you, but he should have known that he is much too weak-willed to deny a woman of such intense and striking beauty.

Now that he has taken you not once but twice in one evening, he knows your attachment to him will be painfully swollen and distracting and this is precisely what he was trying to avoid. He's been successful at roaming from town to town across the United States without so much as a word to any of its residences, but his work in your town is panning out to be more weighted than he had anticipated and your latency has been quite a frustrating and reckless complication.

You wake with a start and spring forth with a gasp, your palm pressing to your chest in distress as you pat the sheets around you in search of something. Harry's concentration is sliced to bits and his heart reacts first to your alarmed salutation with a whack followed by dizzying blood flow.

He sits up beside you and places his hand between your shoulder blades but you don't seem to notice as you tear apart the blankets and linens until you've found the pocket watch you were scrambling for. Your hand trembles as you pop it open and check the time, shuffling from his bed and running around the room to collect your clothing.

Harry watches with a sleepy gaze and disheveled hair as he lifts his knuckle to rub his eye, dropping his palm back into his lap with the sheets bunching around his hips. His skin is buff and tan against the creamy bedding, his tattoos dark and forbidden, his fingernails neatly trimmed and clean.

You hold up your corset and whine when you remember it's in desperate need of repair, clutching the tattered fabric against your bosom while you pull your bloomers up your thighs and settle them into place. Harry clears his throat and you snap your head in his direction to take in the attractive sight before you; adorably mussed hair and soft, relaxed expression, his length semi-hard below the sheets and appearing against the material as if begging for another spot of attention.

"Have my shirt," Harry rubs his eye again before pointing to his clothes in a heap in the center of the room.

You're quiet as you digest his consideration, pulling one corner of your mouth into a smile before padding over to his clothing and draping his shirt over your shoulders and fastening several buttons, cloaking yourself in his natural musk and the faded scent of rose as you lift the collar to your nose for a moment of immersion. You peek once more at his alluring bedroom eyes and shaggy hair, deciding that he looks comfortably worn and fucked as you drag your high heels from the floor.