Harmony's Way

CHAPTER 2

“Shhhh.” Lance’s soft croon whispered over Harmony’s distraught senses as his head lifted from the curve of her breasts.

He lowered her shirt, the distracting touch of his hands on her breasts easing the arousal threatening to overwhelm her.

She stared up at him, dazed, as his hands pressed her hair back from her heated cheeks, before he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

“In you go,” he whispered.

Moving his hands to her hips he lifted her to the seat before picking up her purse from the pavement to hand it in to her.

She had lost her only protection as he held her? Her tote held her knife and the small gun she carried when she couldn’t wear her weapons. She never let it off her arm unless absolutely necessary. And she had never, ever dropped it.

She flinched as the driver’s side door opened and he got in. She could smell him, an intoxicating blend of the night and the seasons merging into his scent.

“Ready?” His voice was dark, the rasp of a sexually aroused primal male ready to claim a female.

She lifted her head, inhaling deeply as her gaze met his.

“I’m ready,” she whispered.

She was past ready. Her body was screaming for him now. Her senses were dazed, her mind in upheaval. She couldn’t think of anything past his touch, gorging herself on him, sating the hunger raging in her flesh.

She had gone from a lifetime of never caring either way if she lay beneath a man, to being suddenly desperate to feel him covering her.

Lance started the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot as Harmony kept her peripheral vision trained on the small mirror at the side of her door. She could see no evidence that they were being followed, but her nape prickled in awareness.

Unfortunately her survival instinct was squelched the moment Lance’s hand moved from the gearshift to lift hers from her lap.

“Your hands are soft.” His voice was a bit unsteady, his lust rising as he laid her hand on the gearshift, covering it with his own as he drove.

“Thank you.” She had learned how to flirt within a year of her escape from the labs. She knew the word games, the social repartee that kept men at a distance. But none of it came to mind now.

All she knew was the pulse of her heartbeat in the stiffness of her nipples, in the engorged bud of her clitoris and her hungry vagina. She was so wet she could feel her own juices dampening the silk of her thong and the rasp of the swollen folds of her pussy against the ultrasoft denim she wore.

His thumb caressed over hers, the faintly calloused flesh exciting sensitive nerve endings as Harmony fought to catch her breath.

“Is this your first time to Broken Butte?” His voice was quiet in the confines of the vehicle.

Harmony shifted in her seat, swallowing tightly as she frowned at the oddly sweet taste filling her mouth. She wanted his taste. The rich earthy essence of the wind and the land against her tongue.

“Yes.” She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes briefly in an effort to maintain her control.

She had never been on such an edge. She didn’t feel wholly herself, and that was damned scary. She had never been out of control. She processed information quickly and her decisions were ones she knew had merit.

This hunger had no merit, it made no sense. The completely illogical clawing need was throwing her mind and her body into havoc.

She had never given her status as a female much consideration, until now. Now she could feel the weakening arousal, the pulse of melting flesh between her thighs, a hunger to submit, to be possessed.

“Have you been here long?” His thumb drew circles at the side of her hand, caressing and massaging as she turned slowly to him.

She just needed one more taste. Her breathing was heavy, labored as he flicked on the turn signal and turned off the main road onto a graveled drive. It stretched ahead of them, never ending, and the wracking desire filling her senses was finding no relief.

“I haven’t been here long,” she whispered in reply, her gaze centering on his lips. “Kiss me again, Lance.”

His grimace was tight, pained.

“If I kiss you again, I’m not going to make it to the house before I have you beneath me.”

“I don’t care.” She really didn’t care. All that mattered was that kiss, his touch.

His hand tightened on hers briefly before he lifted her fingers and laid them back in her lap.

“We’re almost at the house.” His voice was as strained and tense as she felt. “Just another minute or two, sweetheart.”

He shifted in his seat, obviously hoping to relieve the pressure of his jeans on his erection. She could smell his hunger wrapping around her.

Harmony closed her eyes, fighting to hold back, to wait, just a few more minutes. Her dazed senses were demanding, this strange, unknown arousal so imperative every inch of her flesh ached for his touch.

And she was on fire. She felt as though she were in the midst of a fever, flushed, so sensitive that the air inside the Jeep seemed too heavy to breathe.

“God, the look on your face.” His voice was strained as the Jeep accelerated. “You’re killing me here.”

She opened her eyes, laying her head back on the headrest as she watched him through drowsy eyes.

“What do I look like?”

“Hungry,” he whispered. “So aroused and hungry that you make me ache to see you sated.”

Could she be sated?

“I want you now,” she said softly. “And that terrifies me. A bit,” she acknowledged with a wry smile.

Life had to mean something to you for you to fear the consequences of your actions. Her own life had never mattered much beyond fulfilling her responsibilities to others. Until now.

Living meant pleasure now. It meant his touch, his kiss, an adventure in sensation she had never imagined she would find.

“There’s the house.” He nodded ahead as the headlights picked up the faint outline of a single-story ranch. The sprawling design looked lazy and comfortable, the porch light bathing the front of the house in a gentle inviting glow.

Lance pulled the Jeep to a stop beside the cement walkway that led to the porch. Pulling the keys free of the ignition, he turned to his guest and watched her silently.

Her pale green eyes stared back at him from drowsily lowered lids as the flush on her cheeks and the swollen curves of her lips attested to her arousal.

He was in agony himself. His cock was like a wedge of iron in his pants, hot and throbbing in need to bury itself inside her. His tongue ached to taste her. The taste of her just might well be addictive. He was tormented with the memory of it—the subtle sweetness, the hint of heat.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded back, her expression somber as he opened his door to step out of the vehicle. But he paused. Just one taste. They were close enough to the house. He could surely keep his control long enough to taste her one more time.

He let her move ahead of him to the sidewalk, his gaze dropping to the bunch and sway of her buttocks, his hands itching to grip them, to clench and hold tight as he pounded inside her.

He grimaced at the rising lust tormenting his balls. They were as tight as his cock, tortured, aching for release. He’d thought he wanted her before that kiss, but after his lips touched hers, the hunger had only increased. Was rapidly increasing even now.

“Here we go.” He let his hand rest on her hip as he opened the screen door and dug his keys from his pocket. He grunted at the pinch of the material against his erection, but managed to pull the key ring free.

He unlocked the door and stepped in, scanning the interior quickly, his senses picking up every nuance of the house as he surveyed the room.

“You have a beautiful home.” She stepped into the entryway, her voice soft. The soft light overhead created a gentle halo around the silken mass of dark russet hair that fell sleekly about her face.

“Hungry?”

She shook her head no and he felt his muscles tighten further. If possible, his cock got harder.

“Drink?”

“No, thank you.” Her arms hung at her sides as though relaxed, but he could feel the tension filling her.

Holding out his hand in invitation, he watched as she reached out for him without hesitation. Her slender fingers curled into his, warm. Accepting. Willing.

He couldn’t help but smile down at her, loving that little light of perplexed curiosity that filled her gaze each time he did so. As though no one had ever smiled at her before.

“Bedroom?” he asked then.

She tilted her head, staring back at him as she inhaled slowly, deeply. He watched the flush deepen in her cheeks, saw the concern that darkened in her eyes.

Her tongue peeked out, swiping over her lips in the first true sign of nerves he had seen from her.

“The bedroom.” Her voice was husky, vibrating with desire.

As he entered the bedroom, the automatic lights eased on, a low, dim lighting that shadowed the room and kept the intimate atmosphere he enjoyed.

He closed the door behind them, turning to her and giving her no time to voice whatever she was going to say. He wanted no objections, couldn’t bear to hear her hesitation. He wanted her soft and sweet against him again, her tongue licking over his like a little cat’s, the taste of her, that wild honeysuckle and clover taste overwhelming his senses as it had earlier.

His lips settled against hers as he fought to hold back his lust. His hands pulled her to him, fitting her slender curves into his taller body, his arms crossing over her back as he sipped from her lips, deep, drugging kisses that only served to further inflame the need.

She was slender beneath his hands, smaller, more delicate than she appeared. But he could feel the strength in her.

Sharp little nails pricked through his shirt as her fingers clenched against him. A tight groan escaped him as her thighs moved against his, the firm planes of her abdomen cushioning the raging length of his cock. Slanting his lips over hers, he worked his tongue into her mouth, seeking the soft slide of hers and the elixir of passion that seemed to fill her mouth.

Damn, she tasted good. Her tongue twined with his, spilling sweet honey into his senses, the taste burning through his mind like an aphrodisiac.

“Come here.” His hands cupped her ass. Fully curved, firm—his fingers clenched into them as he lifted her to him, groaning as her legs curved around his hips, the soft pad of her pussy cushioning his erection.

“You’re like fire.” He nipped at her lips as he moved her to the bed, laying her beneath him. “So sweet and hot I could lose my mind in you.”

He was losing his mind in her. His fingers moved to her shirt, fumbling, as he drew it over her head, revealing the lace of her bra, her heaving breasts, before he tossed it aside.

No woman had ever affected him like this, had ever made him burn, made every cell in his body ache and throb for her touch, her taste. She was so damned feminine, so soft and warm, yet firm and resilient, that he had to clench his teeth from howling with his need for her.

And she watched him, her hands falling to her sides, the sea green of her eyes blazing with passion and confusion.

He removed her shoes, the functional white socks. Her feet were slender, delicate, the high arch and painted little toenails so sweet he grimaced at the sight.

There was nothing like a woman—softly scented, lightly colored, with all their makeup tricks and confident resourcefulness that turned a man inside out. They were weak, yet the strongest force on the face of the earth. And this woman would quickly become his world. He felt it. Knew it with every fiber of his being.

She wore only the bare minimum of makeup, enough to enhance rather than cover up, but it was the scarlet shade of those little toenails that pushed him over the edge. She pampered those feet. Babied them. They were as soft as silk, perfectly trimmed and pedicured, and they shimmered with beauty.

He lifted one, watching her as he placed the arch against his whisker-roughened cheek, feeling the silken touch as her toes curled and surprise lit her eyes.

He turned his head, lowering it, then nipped at the curve of her big toe before licking over it with utmost gentleness.

Her eyes flared, shock and something akin to fear filling them.

“You have pretty feet.” He massaged it for a moment before releasing her.

She swallowed, opened her lips to speak, then bit the lower curve as his fingers moved to her jeans. The snap and zipper released quickly. Her hips lifted as he eased the fabric over them, sliding them down her thighs, his fingers touching sweet satin flesh as the material cleared her legs.

She reached for him then, her hands shaking, a small, almost imperceptible moan on her lips.

“Not yet.” He pushed her hands back to the bed. “Wait, baby. Let me touch you. If you get those hot little hands on me first, I’m going to lose control and fuck you until neither one of us has the strength to worry about foreplay. Just lie there. Just for a bit.”

“I need to touch you.” The words sounded torn from her, though she did as he asked, her fingers curling into fists as they lay at her head.

“And I need you to touch me,” he admitted, fighting to clear the haze of lust from his mind. “Just not yet.”

He moved back, his eyes going over the sight of her. The fragile lace of her bra that did nothing to hide her tight nipples. Her flat, tanned abdomen and the delicate white silk of her thong, the material damp enough to outline the soft curves of her pussy.

He breathed out. A rough exhalation at the knowledge that beneath the fragile silk lay bare flesh. Her sweet juices had dampened the fabric just enough to see that no feminine curls marred the luscious curves.

“Do you shave?” He jerked his boots off, unable to look away from the damp silk.

“No. Wax.” She sounded uncomfortable.

He looked up, flashing her a grin of approval as the last boot dropped to the floor. He jerked his shirt over his head, not bothering with buttons, then tore at his belt before jerking the snaps of his jeans apart. His dick was killing him. He was harder, hotter than he could ever remember being in his life.

“I’m going to eat that pretty pussy,” he whispered as he shed jeans and underwear in one economical move. “I’m going to spread your legs and gorge myself on you. I bet that honeysuckle taste is there too. I like honeysuckle, Harmony. I like it real well.”

He wrapped his fingers around his erection, his eyes returning to hers, a tight smile curving his lips at the erotic flush covering her face, her neck. Her lips were parted, shiny from the dampness of her tongue. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated and filled with shocked hunger.

He should be shocked himself. He had never been this damned hot, this hard for a woman in his life. He reached over to the nightstand, jerking a condom from the drawer and quickly tearing apart the wrapper. If he didn’t do it now, he wouldn’t have enough mind to do it later.

He extended his hand to her then, the latex circle gripped lightly between his fingers.

He couldn’t make himself say the words. If he spoke, he was going to scare the hell out of her and himself with the animalistic growl in his throat.

She looked at the condom.

“I’m protected. And I’m clean,” she said.

His cock jerked at the soft sound of her voice, the knowledge that he could sink into her, bare, feel her touching him, wrapping around him.

He shook his head. “No one can be sure, baby. Come on. Touch me now.”

Amusement flickered in her gaze, some hidden knowledge he hoped he could remember to delve into further. Then she was rising, sitting before him, her face level with the straining length of his cock.

She took the condom from his fingers, but as his hand dropped to her shoulder, that wasn’t what she covered the head of his erection with. Her tongue, blistering with heat, like rough velvet, swiped over the bulging crest.

“Harmony…” His hand moved to her hair. “Baby. This might not be a good idea.” His self-control was strained to the limit.

“Hmm.” She hummed around the sensitive flesh as her lips opened, her mouth sinking over him, drawing a strangled groan from his throat as his fingers tightened in her hair.

Her tongue was a lash of pleasure so erotic, so hungry, he was straining to hold back, to keep from losing control and his semen between those snug, pouty lips.

But he couldn’t keep from moving against her, from watching his hard flesh slide from her lips before pushing back, sinking inside her until he knew he could go no farther. And still she stared up at him, her eyes wild with lust, her body shuddering from it. Tremors shook her fingers as they moved over the shaft of his cock, the other hand cupping his tight balls, her fingers combing through the hair that grew there.

And all he could do was watch. Watch and thrust inside her mouth, slow and easy, his teeth clenched tight as he fought to hold back the release sizzling at the base of his spine.

“Enough.” He pulled back, his fingers holding tight to her head as she fought to follow him, her lips shiny, swollen from his possession of them.

“I want more,” she whispered as he uncurled her fingers from the pulsing flesh. “Let me touch you, Lance. Just this once.”

“Soon. Not yet, baby.”

He pushed her back to the bed, followed her, and when his lips covered hers, the sweet taste of her filling his senses again, he forgot about control.

His fingers tunneled into her hair, holding her head in place as he let his lips devour her. He teased her tongue, sucked at it, slow, gentle pulls that seemed to intensify the taste he craved.

He was dying for her, craving her. He was becoming addicted.

Harmony fought. It was a losing battle, but still she fought to maintain enough control to be alert, to be on guard. Something wasn’t right here, not quite normal. From the moment she caught sight of him tonight, she had known her fascination with him was too strong. Too intense.

But this, this lust, was insane. It clawed at her womb, dug into her pussy and sent her juices spilling from her spasming vagina. It made her clutch at him, her lips opening beneath his as he removed her bra, leaving only the thong. And that for only the length of time it took for his hands to get to her hips and tear it away.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He groaned as she cried out. His fingers were sliding through the wet slit between her thighs, his thumb rubbing over her clit, circling it with devastating results as his lips moved down her neck, heading for the heaving curves of her breasts.

The pleasure was agonizing. Harmony had never known of sensations so extreme, so brutal that she couldn’t focus her senses elsewhere at the same time. She had never known anything but terror that could overtake the body, the heart and the soul in one fell swoop. Until now.

Lance’s hands touched her, caressed, spreading fire, creating a firestorm of bliss that burned through any other thought, any other instinct.

The need to mate became imperative. To feel his body moving over her, inside her, taking her, possessing her…

“Fuck me!” She barely held back the snarl as his lips and tongue moved to a painfully erect, highly sensitive nipple.

He chuckled, a dark sound of satisfaction as his finger moved from the slick contours of her pussy to grip her hip, holding her in place as she arched against him.

“Soon,” he whispered. “Easy, baby. Let’s see how hot it can get.”

She couldn’t imagine hotter. Couldn’t imagine surviving it if her body became so much as a breath more sensitive.

“It can’t get hotter,” she gasped, no longer recognizing herself or her own body as his teeth raked over her nipple, drawing a ragged cry from her throat. If it became hotter, there was no way she could survive. No way to turn from him unaffected.

“Of course it can,” he crooned, his voice husky, rough. He gave her nipple a gentle nip.

She stared down at him, seeing the sexual, sensual animal bending over her, and wanted to cry out at the injustice of it.

One night. Just one night.

Her hands were tangled in his hair, and she couldn’t remember moving them from the bed. But she felt the coarse strands between her fingers, the warmth of it heating the sensitive pads.

“I need you now.” She was shaking, trembling with that need, but she couldn’t control the impulse to touch him. One hand fell from his hair to his face, her fingers moving over the hard planes and angles, tentatively smoothing over his lips.

He nipped her thumb, gripped it between his straight, white teeth as his tongue swiped over it with hungry heat.

“We could play later,” she whispered breathlessly, on fire, feeling the thick length of his cock by her thigh as her pussy wept in need of it.

“We’ll play later too.” His fingers wrapped around her wrist, lowering it to his shoulder as his head dipped, his tongue trailing down the middle of her stomach in a rapid course to the tormented flesh between her thighs.

He glanced up at her with each kiss to her quivering belly, his eyes sparkling with warmth, laughter and hunger. A wild, vibrant hunger echoed and built within her until she could feel the flames overtaking her.

“Lance.” The sound of her own cry shocked her—hoarse, edged with desperation as his head neared the soaked curves of her pussy. “I can’t take it… Please…”

She was on the edge of a precipice that terrified her. She had never flown so high, never known such pleasure. Holding onto her control, shredded though it was, became imperative.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I just want a little taste. That’s all… Just lay back and let it feel good. I promise to make it feel good.” His wicked smile was followed by a puff of air over the violently sensitive, swollen clit.

Darkness shrouded her then. Her eyes closed, her strength drained until she could do nothing but respond. She arched to him, a shattered cry leaving her throat as his tongue moved in to torture her, to torment her quaking cunt.

“There’s a good girl.” He groaned as her thighs fell open farther. “Let me show you how good it can be, baby.”

Good? It surpassed good. It was torture.

His tongue was a flaming lash of pleasure, working its way slowly through the narrow slit as his fingers parted the plump lips.

“So sweet and bare.” He groaned. “I love your naked pussy, Harmony. I love feeling all your silky flesh, wet and hot and straining toward me.”

She strained harder. His tongue licked through each fold, tickled around her clit, slid down, rimmed the spasming opening to her vagina and then began again.

Gasping, fighting to breathe, Harmony felt her hands gripping his hair, her nails digging into his scalp as she fought to hold him in one place, to find the release hovering just out of reach.

His tongue was wicked, imperious. It sought, demanded, and drew from her a pleasure that exceeded any she had heard of, let alone known. It sent lightning crashing through her system. Tidal waves of sensation clashed through her mind, causing her to jerk, to shudder, her cries to echo around her as control was lost.

When his lips moved back to her clit, a hard male finger tested the entrance to her pussy, worked in, caressed and stroked, sending spasms racing through the very heart of her womb.

“Lance…” Her scream was strangled. “For God’s sake. Please…”

Another finger joined the first. His lips covered the swollen bud of her clitoris, drawing it into his mouth, his tongue flickering over it like flames of lust as she felt herself fly higher. Higher.

Sensation ripped through her. Tore through her nervous system, shredded her soul. Her orgasm slammed her, tightened her body, and sent her racing toward a heat and brilliance so extreme, so intense she lost herself within it.

Lance’s hard growl filled her head as he moved to cover her then, his thighs spreading hers farther, the blunt, thick head of his cock separating the folds of her pussy.

“Look at me.”

Look at him? She struggled to open her eyes, to make sense of the violent tremors surging through her. What she saw did nothing to restore her control or her equilibrium. His eyes were so blue, a deep, impossibly brilliant blue, his features taut, savagely so, his lips swollen as he stared down at her and slapped a condom into her hand.

“Now.” He jerked upright, the thick, pulsing stalk of his cock angling away from his body, spearing toward her, throbbing with the same furious, desperate hunger surging through her cunt.

Her eyes moved slowly, reluctantly to her palm and the condom he had placed there.

“Put. It. On.”

She blinked at the guttural sound of his voice.

“You don’t need—”

“Now!” His hands gripped her thighs, his eyes blazing down at her.

She swallowed tightly, her fingers shaking, trembling as she moved to do as he ordered as quickly as possible. She needed him; her pussy burned, hurt. Her tongue throbbed. Every cell in her flamed in demand.

Her fingers were shaking so bad she could barely fit the disk over the bulging, damp head.

“I can’t.” It slipped, moved, slid. She couldn’t make her fingers work.

“Put the damned thing on, Harmony.” His body jerked, shuddered.

“Fuck it.” She threw the condom, lifted her hips until the swollen head pressed against the entrance to her cunt. “Fuck me. I told you, you don’t need the son of a bit—”

The invasion—it could be called nothing else, an impalement, a penetration that tore through her, stretched her and destroyed her.

Harmony heard herself screaming his name. Her legs wrapped around his plunging hips, her lips opened for his, her tongue battling his the moment they touched.

She was filled to her limit, the tearing pleasure whipping through her, overloading her senses until nothing mattered, no one mattered, the world dissolved until nothing existed but Lance. His touch. His kiss, feeling the jackhammer strokes of his cock powering inside her pussy as her tongue filled his mouth, the taste of wild honey, of spice, an aphrodisiac that heightened each sensation and sent her careening into ecstasy.

Her body jerked violently as the next orgasm ripped through her. She bucked, shuddered, fighting to scream, but only a whimper emerged as he tore his lips from hers. A strangled male cry filled the air then, followed quickly by the strangest, most terrifying sensation she had ever known.

She cried out at the feel of his semen rushing through her, seeping into the very pores of the spasming flesh, easing the flaming lust, soaking into her womb.

She felt it. Felt each heated pulse of semen fill her, change her, complete her just before her teeth sank into his shoulder and she tasted his blood. And in that moment sensed her own defeat.