Release: Symbols of Love, page 26
"How did that go?" He resumes his ministrations, his hands drift up to neck and he slides his fingers into my hair, his hands cradling my head.
"It was so great,” I sigh happily. “I didn’t realize how much I've pushed them away. I also know that I've been angrier at them than I've let myself admit. We've let each other down, my family and I..." I trail off, not sure what else to say.
"Families do that. Loving someone doesn't stop us from being human and fucking up. Especially when we're afraid."
"How come you're so wise?" I ask and then I lift my head so that I can kiss the spot my ear has been resting it.
"I'm not wise baby. I've just been there. My parents...they love us. They're wonderful people, but they weren't around a lot. Freya, Louis and I, we've had the best of everything. But we were also alone a lot. And since I've been old enough to remember I've known that a lot of things in my life were predetermined. I didn't have the choices my siblings did. I still don't. I'm the oldest son of my parents. I mean, I could say fuck it and run off and live my life. Louis would inherit the Earldom, my titles."
I still. It's the first time I've heard him say anything like that. "I didn't realize you felt like that."
"I do." He says wistfully, "But, I have a responsibility to something greater than myself. So, I'm doing what I can to honor it. To make sure the people who rely on the estate for their own livelihoods feel heard. To diversify, modernize, expand and grow. I can't change that my family owns all of this land. But I don't take any of it for granted and I don't resent it. At least not anymore. When Zara died I realized how much I'd resented all of it. That resentment trapped me, I did my duty and nothing more. And because my parents had no clue who I am, at least not really, they didn't know that it was killing me inside."
I kiss his chin, "Oh, Harry. I'm sorry."
"I'm not. What happened to her was a tragedy and how I wish I'd had the courage to tell the truth then. I'm not saying she wouldn't have died, but at least it would have allowed her to live honestly."
He exhales, a weary, weighted sound.
"Harry, you're making so many assumptions. We're all only responsible for ourselves. She could have said, ”I wouldn’t want to marry a man I don't love.” She made choices, too. And Harry, just because she was cheating on you doesn't mean she didn't love you."
He laugh is full of self-deprecation. "No, trust me. She couldn't have loved me. She didn't even know me. I didn't know her. Yes, she wanted to be a Countess. But a lot of the women in our world do. It doesn't mean what it used to. But it still ensures social standing, if the estate is well managed - and ours is- it can also mean wealth. She did what was expected of her and would have married me happily. And she would continue fucking William. And I wouldn't have known. Because I didn't want to know. I just wanted do what was expected of me. I didn't think I could have more."
"So, when she died you realized?" I ask, hesitantly, not wanting to put words in his mouth.
He hums and squeezes me planting a kiss on the top of my head.
"Well...not because she died, but because when she did, I had no choice but to see the truth of my life. I couldn't pretend anymore. And really, that's all we do when we lie or hide. We're pretending...because the truth is inside of you, living and feasting on your fear, anxieties, your imagination. And no matter how hard you try, it will force its way out. But that's the only way to regain your power over it. I'm not saying it's easy. Lil...I didn't find the courage to tell my parents how I felt until I got back from Ghana."
"How'd you do it?" I ask him, feeling the increased intensity of his heart beat.
"Well, when I got back, I was so fucking angry. Livid. At you.” I wince at the honesty in his voice.
“But you'd given me a taste of something I knew I wanted more of. My mother was plotting to set me up again. Someone who she'd said reminded her of Zara. I exploded. She knew what Zara had done, and I couldn't understand why she would want that for me again."
His burst of laughter is completely unexpected and I stiffen in confusion.
"Sorry, it’s just...you should have seen her face. She said she thought it was all I wanted because I never asked for more. I never complained. I never demanded that they do anything differently."
He clucks his tongue, "You know… they're not mind readers. We expect our parents to have this super power. To know what we want because they're our parents. They're just human beings trying to muddle their way through, too. And once I'd said it out-loud, that I wanted a woman who challenged me. Who didn't care for or need my title. Hell, who as wary of the title as I was...she was taken aback."
"What did she say?" I prompt when he stops talking.
"Oh, just that they wanted me to be happy. The Earldom is going to be mine one day. The only expectation they have of me is that I take care of it. Respect it. But my mother reminded me she and my father weren't set up. They fell in love. Forty years ago, that wasn't done and they met with a lot of resistance.”
"You're lucky." I say wistfully, a pang of envy that I feel ashamed of radiates in my breast.
"Give them a chance. They've let you down. They should have pushed until you told them. But, forgive them for it. And think about the energy you brought to the table."
"I know." I admit, in safety of his arms, under this judgment free scrutiny, I can be honest. I swallow hard against the ball of doubt and anxiety that's already building at the thought of telling my mother the awful truth.
"Thank you, Harry."
"You're welcome," he returns quickly, "But for what?"
"For everything. I don't know why you pushed, what you saw in me. But I'm so grateful." I pull back to look at him. The room is dark, the moon's soft glow lets me see the shadows and contours of his face well enough to know where to put my mouth.
I kiss him, softly. I savor the way my heart swells when he kisses me back. The reverence in it is heady.
"This is happening." I whisper when we break our kiss, my fingers stroke his jaw and I tangle my legs in his.
"Oh, yes. It's happening. And Lilly, I'll fight for it. I'll fight for you." His arms tighten around me. The smile on my face is so broad that my cheeks hurt. My heart clenches, but in pure ecstasy. I can't believe any of this is happening to me.
"Me, too. I'm so happy that it scares me. Nothing has ever been easy. Nothing has ever fit me like it was made for me - but you do. This place does. I love it here. It's so beautiful and everything here has a story to tell. I feel at home." My voice is full of all the dreamy excitement I feel.
"I've never done this before, I might fuck up. But know that I want it, badly. More than I've ever wanted anything." His hands skim my sides, brushing the curve of my breast. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him so he's laying on top of me.
"And yes, I pushed you because I knew that you were special." He kisses me, trails kisses down my neck, across my shoulders and back again.
"Happy you did?" I tease.
"So, fucking happy." He says lazily, and I laugh.
"I love the sound of your laugh."
He slides down my body pressing hot, fervent kisses to my sternum, my ribs, the underside of my breast. I shiver, his mouth makes me crazy. The more of I have it, the more I crave it. I can't believe he's mine.
I sigh and stroke his hair and marvel at my fingers get lost in thick curls.
"I love your hair." I murmur.
"Do you?" He chuckles softly in between his soft nips at my body. "I love your hair. You have so much of it."
"It grows really fast, I cut it all off a year ago. Dyed it blond."
He stops and raises up and stares down at me.
"Pictures. Or didn't happen."
"I have a few. But it wasn't me. I started growing it back after the first time I cut it."
"I bet it’s sexy as hell." He grips the edge of my nightshirt and before I even realize his intent it's over my head.
"Your pussy's bare. Completely." His voice is thick with his desire.
“Mmmmhmmm,” I say languidly.
"Why?" He says as he traces a finger over the lips of my pussy and I relax again, my hips rock a little, trying to get his fingers to slide down and in.
"I…I usually keep it like this. I just hadn't had a chance to visit my lady before I went to Ghana...so you got the beaver edition." I laugh
He laughs quietly. "As long as it's yours, I don't really care. But I do like this. Your skin is so soft." He slides down so he's lying in between my legs, his hands grasp my hips and his mouth presses against me. "Yes. This smell is my kryptonite. It's all you." He takes a long, luxurious lick and streak of heat it sends through makes my whole-body buck.
"Oh yeah,” he sighs and his breath teases all of the sensitive nerve endings in the cradle of my hips. “I could eat you every day, all day and I wouldn't ever get enough." His tongue dips, skimming my clit before he blows cool air over it.
"Ah. Oh my God." I gasp, my finger searching for purchase, finding it the folds of the comforter that covers my bed.
What Harry does with his mouth, I can't describe. I only know that it feels like I'm being turned inside out in the most pleasurable way.
"God, I can't wait to fuck you." He says when he slips two of his big, work roughened fingers inside of me.
"I don't know what I want more. To fuck you or eat you." He murmurs as he pulls at the hood of my clit and oh so gently sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth. I whimper, the pressure, the pleasure almost too much to bear.
"Oh, God. Harry, please. Just hurry."
"Your wish is my life’s mission." And then we're done talking.
Harry eats me with a vigor that makes me come hard and deep. He rolls a condom on and enters me with one hard thrust and curls my toes, arches my back and drags a loud groan from me.
"Dammit, fuck, yes" He mutters and there's not a hair on my body that's not standing on end, each hard thrust of his hips sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me.
I cling to him, because he's my life line. He brought everything I thought I'd never have again back. And I love him for it.
As my orgasm builds and our bodies move in a rhythm as old as time, but also as new as the feelings that have grown between us. My mind completely succumbs to the battle cry of my heart. "I won't ever let you go. I don't ever want to lose this." My vow leaves me in a sob, but one of release and exaltation.
“Me neither." Harry says, kissing me, licking the drops of sweat that cling to my temple.
Those words hang between us and our lips come back together. His tongue slides past mine and I try to reach for it. We prod and parry and feast on each other.
“I keep thinking that this can’t get better. But it does, every time.” He leans down to kiss me. His hair, sweaty and drooping over his eyes, brushes my forehead and I put a hand up to push it back. His eyes are fervent and bright as he talks to me.
“You. Not the sex. Everyday teaches me something new about you. And everyday, is better than the one before it.”
My heart is caught in my throat. I can’t believe any of this happening to me. This beautiful, generous, honorable man is looking at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful than me.
“This is perfect" I whisper and stare into his molten chocolate eyes and see a bottomless well of happy endings.
This is what happens when souls that are meant for each other collide. They create something new. Something that no one has ever had before. It’s unpredictable, with a will of its own. It refuses to be mastered or tamed.
Harry’s eyes flutter and his head rolls back a little and I know he’s starting to come.
He drops his body onto mine, burying his face in my neck and thrusting hard and deep. “Stay with me. Don’t go back.” He breathes into my neck and my heart gallops.
I whisper, “Yes,” and feel like I'm flying.
He rolls us, so I’m on top of him.
"You're more beautiful than anyone has the right to be." He murmurs, his hands coming up to brush my hair off my shoulders. "I want to watch you come."
Palms on his chest, I set my pace and I make love to this man who has transformed my world.
When we're sated and sweaty, we fall asleep in a tangle of exhausted bodies.
Later on, when my world has burned down around me, I’ll remember this night and wish, we’d stay awake. I’d lament that I hadn’t found the courage to tell him everything before it was too late.
31
Lilly
Just like the first time my life splintered, today started off beautifully. It’s the last day of our trip. Everyone was heading home tomorrow, including me. Harry and I were planning to talk about where we’d go from here. But we’d agreed-we're doing this.
The lot of us had taken a train down to Richmond. My mother's obsession with all things Tudor, the unseasonably clear weather and the prospect of adventure led us to wandering Henry the Eighth's great palace by the river, Hampton Court Palace. The palace, which is over five hundred years old, sits on the outskirts of London, overlooking the Thames River. We'd toured the Great Maze, the most famous of its kind in the world. As we worked our way through, the many hidey holes and alcoves provided Harry and I ample opportunity for sneaked kisses, desperate and hot each time. And when we managed to break apart from the group, it was like we were sixteen again. Kissing in cushions of bushes, our hips grinding, our hands grasping and groping. Jumping apart when the snapping of a twig told us someone was coming.
Our relationship wasn't a secret. But we also couldn’t get enough of each other. Our kisses were all moments of discovery - I found out that when Harry's tongue swipes the inside of my lower lip, it tickled. We learned that it was worth braving the cold so that Harry lift my shirt and suck my nipples until they throbbed. I now know that if I need to, I can be off my knees in a split second.
All of the possibility and thrill of newly discovered love and insatiable lust created a bubble around us that felt impenetrable and made us feel invincible.
But it wasn't. And we weren’t.
We're lounging in the family's library after dinner. Everyone is full and lazy from the dinner of Cornish hens bursting with chestnut stuffing and roasted baby potatoes dripping in butter and herbs straight from the garden. Desert had been a warm sticky toffee pudding that had everyone sighing in ecstasy. The children have gone to bed. Cara and Louis are already on their honeymoon so, it just us - My parents, my sisters, Dean and Harry, and his parents. Simon and Kyle have both had to go back to London. And last but not least, Freya isn’t here.
She hadn't joined us at Hampton Court and I knew it was because of me. She didn't try to hide her dislike and disapproval when she realized that Harry and I had reconciled. I'd tried to talk to her at the wedding breakfast and she'd told me that she had nothing to say to me. She’s avoided me since then.
Milly and I are playing a game of Gin Rummy, my parents and Louis' parents are playing Uno. Harry and Dean arguing about football and Addie is asleep on the lounge chair in the corner.
When the door bangs open, it’s not just the sound that disturbs the tranquil atmosphere, but raw anger that is rolling off Freya in waves as she enters the room.
No one else seems to pay her entrance much attention. Barely glancing at the door before returning to their entertainments, but I do. Because her eyes are trained on me and they are fully of fury.
I sit up straight, completely forgetting that Milly is waiting for me to take make the next move. In the fringes of my awareness, I hear her say, "Lilly, come on. You better not be cheating."
When I don't respond, I see her, in the periphery of my vision, sit up straight and follow my gaze.
Freya, looks like a gladiator entering the ring as she walks into the room, clutching my phone in her hand. And right away, I know. I shake my head at her. Hoping that she has a shred of mercy in her, pleading for her to please, don’t.
She ignores my silent entreaty with the shake of her own head and the flare of her nostril. My eyes follow her as she turns her head to look at Harry, whose head is thrown back in laughter at whatever Dean just said.
He's her brother. She loves him and she knows that I’ve deceived him. I stare at him, memorizing the way his cheek bones announce themselves when he smiles, at the way his curls bounce on his jostling head when he's laughing. I close my eyes and commit to heart the sound of his unfettered laughter. And then I look back at Freya. She's watching me, too. Her lip curled in scorn.
"Freya, please,” I say before I can stop myself and everyone looks at me. I stand up, wiping my damp palms down the front of my jeans and look around the room.
Addie is awake, her eyes darting between the two of us. My parents are staring at Freya, both of them with alarm in their eyes. Milly is looking at me and at then at my phone in Freya's hand. I finally let myself look back to Harry and he's standing too, looking at his sister.
"Fre, what's going on?" He asks slowly.
Her triumphant glare sweeps over me before she turns to face her brother.
"What's going on, Harry is that your girlfriend here has a baby.”
She holds my phone up to the room and shows them the picture I knew she'd found as soon as she walked in.
Everyone, my family, Harry, Dean, everyone walks over to her so they can see what she's talking about.
I charge at her, white hot rage, the likes of which I've never felt before propelling me through the people in my way. I lunge as soon as I’m close enough to make sure I can reach her.
"Give me my phone, you fucking shit faced thief.” I scream as I reach for it. Her eyes widen and her face drains of color. My father’s arm comes around my waist and hauls me back just before my open palm reaches her face. I struggle in his hold and the whole room erupts in pandemonium. Everyone’s talking at once, but Freya’s voice rises above the din.
"I didn't steal it. Camille did. She brought it to me tonight." She hisses at me, her eyes full of venom but her composure reeks of satisfaction. She’s accomplished what she came here to do.
