Ignited (27 page)

Ruth shook her head, lifting her head so he could see the look on her face. “In a very good way.”

She pushed him lightly in the direction of the bed, and he took the hint. Backing up slowly, he flopped down on top of the covers as soon as he hit the mattress with the backs of his knees. Ruth giggled, high and sweet, and then climbed on after him, lying half on top of him and half to his side. Her skin was smooth and pale and beautiful—it
definitely
needed to be seen in full light, not in the dark—and he ran his hand from the top of her thigh up, up, up, until he cupped her bare breast. Ruth’s breath caught and she arched, pushing herself into his hand.

Henry thumbed over her nipple, twirling it beneath his finger. Ruth arched against his side, and it was almost too much—she was too much. How was she
his
? He pushed himself down the bed and covered her breast with his mouth, sucking and lapping at it with his tongue. Hands tangled in his hair, pushing him away and then dragging him closer.

Ruth ended up on her back, and Henry hovered over her, sitting on his knees in between the vee of her legs. He brought one of his hands up to her unattended breast, kneaded it with his palm. The other he sneaked down between her legs and touched just between her silky folds.

Above him, Ruth moaned. “Oh my—
Henry
!”

He paused in his ministrations, taking a moment to admire the look of pleasure on her face. It quickly turned to frustration.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, scandalized. The hand in his hair pushed him back toward her chest. “Go back to what you were doing!”

“Pushy …,” he accused, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him. In retaliation, he flicked over her clitoris with his finger. 

Her mouth fell open in silent pleasure and her legs widened. There were some definite perks to knowing anatomy as well as he did. “More?”

Ruth nodded frantically, her eyes shut tight. “Please ….”

He swiped his finger there again, relishing the choked off cry she let out. He had to admit, his textbooks hadn’t prepared him for this. Slowly, he curled his fingers around to her entrance and pushed one inside, slowly pumping it in and out of her. Ruth’s mouth was still open, her breath still heavy and uneven. Her head fell back against the pillow behind her, hiding her expression from him. Carefully, he pulled all the way out and then added another finger as he pushed back inside. She let out a needy whine—she was so
tight
.

Ruth swiveled her hips, seeking something she didn’t know how to ask for, and he rubbed his thumb over her clit again and again and again, matching the rhythm of his fingers. Ruth moaned again, deep in her chest, and it was so sexy—Henry was going to lose his mind, she was
killing
him. 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her stomach, nuzzled at the soft skin there. Her hips began to work in tandem with his fingers. She smelled intoxicating, and he ran his lips down. He didn’t want to scare her, but he was desperate to taste.

He left his fingers inside her when he replaced his thumb with his lips. 

Her reaction was immediate. Instead of pushing him away as he’d feared, her entire body seemed to close around him. Her hands clamped into his hair. She was babbling incoherently, but he couldn’t hear the words—her thighs had wrapped around his head. He was drowning in her and diving deeper, relishing every twist of her body. When she bucked against him, almost sobbing, he felt like a god. 

When he slid his fingers out of her, Ruth cried out in dismay. He crawled up her body, kissing her soundly on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, until every part of her was touching every part of him. Somehow, it still wasn’t enough.

Her hand snaked down to his erection and wrapped around it, far bolder than she had been so far. The feel of her soft hand around his hardness made Henry shake, and he moved with her tentative rhythm. There was something about her innocence that drove him wild. If she kept doing what she was doing, they wouldn’t get much further than they would right now. And deep down, he didn’t think either of them wanted
that
. He reached down to take her hand away before he pressed a kiss to her temple, her jaw. His mouth hovered near her ear, and he whispered, “I love you.”

He felt her smile, rather than saw it. “I love you, too.”

“Are you ready?”

She laughed softly. “I don’t think it’s possible to be more ready.”

“Let me know if you need me to slow down,” he said, reaching down to position himself at her entrance. She bent her legs to cradle his body as he began to slowly, so slowly, push inside of her.

Ruth was perfect. She was hot and tight and wet, and it was all he could do to keep his movement controlled and careful. He had forgotten about the condom again, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He would marry her, and sooner or later she would be carrying his child. Why not sooner?

As their hips met, Ruth’s hands tightened on his shoulders. He could feel her nails digging into his skin, and he pushed himself up to his elbows so that he could watch her face. She looked as lost in ecstasy as he felt.

He kept his pace slow and deliberate, drawing back his hips and then thrusting them forward into her welcoming heat. It was different than the night before, when everything had felt so urgent. That driving need was still there, but he wanted to be delicate with her, to go slow, to savor the feel of her body enveloping his. 

Her hands traveled down his back, this time lingering at his hips and encouraging him forward. Taking her hint, he began to move faster, walking a hand down between them to circle over her most sensitive bundle of nerves. Her mouth fell open and she cried out as she tightened around him convulsively.

Nothing had ever felt like this before. He was overflowing with Ruth, Ruth was everything, and no one could compare to her. Every noise she made was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard, every clench and grasp and buck of her hips the most perfect thing anyone had ever done.

“Henry!” she called out his name, head falling back and exposing her neck. “I’m—I think I’m going to—”

He thrust faster. His eyes were on her face when she cried out, stilling beneath him as she met her pleasure. She looked so beautiful—hair everywhere, eyes wild, mouth panting out his name again and again. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He followed her.

Minutes passed, and their panting became slow, even breaths. Henry could feel Ruth smiling against his neck as she curled up into his side. Her fingers traced patterns across his chest.

He turned and kissed her forehead. “Remind me to send June a thank you card.”

She snorted and slapped at him, soft and playful. “Don’t you
dare
.”

“Dear June,” he began. “Thank you for the excellent idea you gave Ruth about seducing me. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

She stifled her giggles against his skin. “Just for that, I’m never doing it again.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” she said, regaining her calm. “You’re required to seduce
me
from now on.”

He pretended to sigh. “What a burden.”

Ruth laughed again but scooted close to him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around him. She held him tightly, and he felt rather than saw her mood shift to something more serious. “Really, though, Henry. You can’t make decisions for me, or assume you know how I’m feeling. We need to be better about talking to each other.”

The guilt weighed on him, and he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll stay here with you, at this house. I wanted to, you know. I want to.” His conversation with his grandfather came flooding back to him, and Henry stiffened before letting out a groan. “That means I need to find a reason not to stay with my grandfather for a few days, though. I already asked him.”

Ruth hummed in reply, quietly thoughtful. “What happened between the two of you that upset you so much? You never did tell me.”

“We had a—professional disagreement. He ordered me to go to dinner last night, and I just—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit across from him while he was mad at me, or next to my mother as she ignored me.”

“You can’t choose your family,” Ruth said, her voice small.

If there was anyone who knew just how true that was, it was Ruth. She had it so much tougher than him, and here he was, complaining to her. He turned his head to brush a kiss over her hair. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. That’s not what I meant.” She pushed herself up onto her elbow, leaning over him. “I just—I got away from my father, and it was hard. But ultimately, I know it was the right thing to do. Not everyone is meant to be a parent, Henry. You don’t owe your mother anything, and if your grandfather really loves you, he’ll understand that.”

She glowed in the dim light, her skin pale, luminescent. He had never loved her more than he did at that moment, this brave woman who had saved herself and believed he could do the same.

“I love you,” he told her, the words falling out of him without his permission.

She smiled at him and laid her head back down. “I love you, too.” She paused, then added, “But only so long as you don’t send June any kind of card.”

“Thank you chocolates?”

She yanked the pillow out from under his head and smacked him with it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Ruth

Ruth’s eyes fluttered open as light filtered in through the curtains in an unfamiliar room. She winced as a sunbeam hit her directly in the face and shuffled further down in bed. Her eyes snapped open as she suddenly remembered where she was.

This was Henry’s bed. In Henry’s
room
. And for the second night in a row, they had ….

There were lips on her neck, kissing her gently, and she relaxed. The soreness between her legs was easier today, and she stretched, working out the kinks in her muscles. Henry’s lips turned more insistent, lingering at the place where her neck met her shoulder. Ruth arched her back, pushing her bottom against the growing hardness she could feel behind her.

She’d done that to him. Ruth nearly smirked. She felt
powerful
.

Henry’s hand sneaked around her, traveling up the softness of her belly to her sternum before cupping one of her breasts. She reached behind her to return the pleasure. He caught her hand and pinned it to her side, and she whined, although whether because he had stopped her or that in stopping her he had abandoned her breast, she wasn’t sure.

“Nope,” he said, nibbling at her earlobe. “This is just about you.”

It was hard to argue with
that
.

Ruth nodded and he let her go, once again starting his delicious
ministrations. He was moving so slow, like they were made of molasses, like they had all the time in the world.

The persistent feeling curling in the core of her, on the other hand, begged to differ. She needed more, and needed it
now
.

How could this be anything other than godly? She had never felt more wonderful than she did when Henry was touching her, or when she was touching him in turn. Why would the Lord have made her body with this capacity for pleasure and expect her not to use it? 

She could feel it building. Her body craved that delicious tense and release, the surge inside of her like she was breaking apart in the best way possible. The past few nights had been incredible, and now that she knew the end result of the feeling slowly building inside of her, she didn’t want to wait.

Ruth flipped around so that they were facing each other, both lying on their sides, and kissed him, morning breath and all. Henry didn’t seem to mind, his mouth hot and insistent on hers, and Ruth threw her leg over his hip, bringing them into closer alignment.

It was perfect. It felt so good;
Henry
felt so good. He was hot against her, and she felt like she was burning from the inside out. She wanted him again, and again, and again—she couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t want him, wouldn’t
crave
him.

The heat inside her built and built, and Ruth began to move her hips, trying to find that crest, when Henry hissed and moved away from her.

She blinked at the sudden loss of friction and the warmth of Henry’s body. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and reached a hand out. “What are you—”

Her voice fell away. Her hand was glowing, ever so slightly. She looked to Henry’s chest. There was a distinct red handprint burned there.

Ruth felt herself go cold. She scrambled backward off the bed, pushing herself against the far wall of the bedroom. She had
hurt
him—she hadn’t controlled herself, and she had hurt Henry. Horror and shame welled up inside her. Tears pushed against the backs of her eyes, and she slammed them shut.

Henry was in front of her before she had even taken a breath, his hands cradling her face. His voice was low and soothing in her ears, and she dragged herself out of her sea of panic in order to listen to him.

“—fine, it’s not serious at all. It’s like if I spilled tea on myself. It’ll be gone by tonight or tomorrow morning, and then this will be like it never happened.”

Ruth whimpered. “I
hurt
you.”

Henry hummed a soothing noise against her hair and kissed her on the forehead. “Not seriously. And it’s fine, like I said. You just lost control for a second.” His arms wrapped around her, hugging her close. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Their nakedness, something that had felt so alluring just a few moments ago, now felt overwhelming. Ruth pulled away from his embrace and moved stiffly to her discarded dress and panties. She crouched down to pick them up and began to dress hastily.

The dress was one of the old ones June had brought over, and she had deliberately chosen to wear it because it was the shortest one. That had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now all Ruth wanted was something she could use to cover herself. She pulled the dress over her head and then looked over her shoulder, where Henry was still standing against the wall, staring at her.