When It's Love (16 page)

I move back up to Henry’s face and place another delicate kiss on his lips. His hips are bucking, begging me to go back down. Instead, I reach for the ends of his shirt and pull it over his head. Staring at his chest and the ripples of his abdomen all I can think is: Henry is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. How did I not notice this earlier?

Henry lifts himself into a sitting position with his strong abs. I’m straddled across his lap. He tugs my nightshirt off and wraps his arms around me, putting kisses light as feathers along the side of my neck and across my chin until our lips meet again. Then, gone are the delicate kisses and the insistent, relentless, carnal ones return. As burning lust rushes through me like lava down a mountain, I take control of the moment. “I’m going to show you how much I want you, Henry,” I say, careful to include his name in my declaration. I place both of my palms on his hard chest and push him down. I’m no match for his strength, but he appeases me and leans back so he’s flat against the mattress again and staring up at me in my wet panties, straddling his middle.

“You’re so beautiful, Sydney,” Henry says with eyes full of ardor. His dark blond hair is falling back off his forehead and I can see a trace of sweat on his brow. His chest looks mighty and heroic.

I stand up, slide my panties down and off, and then pull down Henry’s underwear as he lies there groaning soft and low. And, oh! There
he
is. Henry’s faultless manhood is right before my eyes. It’s the epitome of masculinity: solid, lengthy, and hard as a diamond. Galvanized by the sight of it, all I think of is plunging myself onto it. I climb back on top of Henry, with one leg on either side of his body. With my legs spread wide, I deliberately rub my wetness down his happy trail until it’s touching the tip of his raging hardness. And there we are, poised to make earth-shattering love, my soft, hollow sex against
him
- stiff, hard, and aching. Henry grabs my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Baby,” he says. “I need you, too.”

“Condom?” I ask, hating to break the spiraling sensations in my body for a reality check.

“Pants’ pocket. Wallet.” His breath is so ragged he can barely speak.

I reach back for his pants and find what we need. I rip open the foil packet and take him in my hands for the first time, sucking in my breath as I roll the condom down the imposing length of him. Henry tenses at my touch and my body is remembering what sex feels like, the hunger that takes over the person you think you are, turning you into a yearning force with only one intention. But even with Jake, whom I loved, I never felt greedy the way I do now with Henry’s exquisite manhood in my hands. He’s all mine. And I want all of him inside of me. Holding Henry like this sparks a build-up in me. I want to rub my clit against him before I take him inside, but I know I’ll come too quickly if I do. I must hold back. I have to wait for Henry.

Now I’m perfectly positioned my legs over Henry’s hips, gallantly hovering over him.

“You’re torturing me, Sydney,” he says hoarsely. “I have to be inside of you. Now.”

I look down at Henry and see anticipation written all over his face. He grabs my hips, gently driving them downward until he’s easing into me. We groan in unison. Henry opens me, and inch by thick, strong inch he fills me. Pleasure gushes through my body.

“Take me all the way in, baby,” Henry says. “To the hilt.” He’s staring into my eyes, his mouth agape, his brow furrowed in concentration.

I slide further down, bringing Henry deeper into me. When I’m filled to the point of sweet torment and I can’t take it any longer, I begin to move up and down – slowly and deliberately. Henry pulls himself up so we’re both sitting. He’s so far inside of me now, both pleasure and pain radiate through my body. He throws his arms around and drowns me in another one of his unwavering kisses. With both his tongue and his rock inside of me, I feel truly possessed. I break away from his kiss and toss my head back so he can kiss my neck and breasts. My skin tingles, my heart races, my breath staggers out of my chest in loud gasps. I begin to move up and down on Henry again. He matches my rhythm and quickly our fucking becomes frenzied, both of us glazed in sweat and crying out each other’s names. I feel Henry’s hands pressing into my backside. He thrusts his pelvis up to meet me, sending him deeper inside of me than I ever thought was possible. He’s hitting my sweet spot and I moan as my climax nears. “Come with me, Henry,” I say. Maybe I shout it. I can’t tell what I’m doing. I have no sense of place or time. All I know right now is this feeling of Henry pounding inside of me.

Henry puts his forehead against mine and we lean our faces into each other, our lips and noses almost touching. He thrusts harder and faster and then in a husky voice he pants, “Sydney, my Sydney.”

Those words throw me to the brink. I’m like a song advancing to its grand, explosive chorus. I’m at the threshold and desperate. I have no control over my body at this crowning moment, and no matter how much I will myself to keep up Henry’s rhythm, I can’t hold back any longer. I shatter around Henry, quivering, climaxing, and calling out incomprehensibly as I come.

And in the next moment Henry shouts out my name, he grabs my face between his hands, finds his release, and pours himself into me as his body shakes.

I’m still throbbing as I collapse into Henry’s chest and stay there with my ear over his heart, listening to its steady thump. I’m leaving an ecstatic realm and coming back to reality, but it’s not the same reality it was a few hours ago. I feel different, like I was the filthy window of an abandoned house that’s been reoccupied, and now I’ve been washed sparkling clean. I feel reborn. I feel free.

I awake abruptly to the sound of my apartment door opening, and Henry’s voice whispering, “Thank you.”

Oh my God! Is he leaving me again? I feel a gush of terror. I won’t be able to tolerate losing him again. I would be utterly ruined.

“Henry?” I call, my voice full of fear.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he says looking as calm as ever. Someone, presumably Connor, his family’s driver, has brought over two cups of coffee that smell heavenly, and a paper bag that says Dough. Dough makes the best pastries in Addison and as Henry gets closer I smell vanilla.

Henry, who is dressed in his dark jeans and nothing else, looks like a god. He has broad shoulders, rippled abs, and narrow hips. He looks like he works out all the time, but I know he doesn’t. He’s one of those lucky people who’s naturally built to perfection. He puts the Dough bag and coffee down on the table and comes to get me out of bed, where I’m still lying naked and spent, despite some solid hours of deep sleeping. (Though, honestly, I have no idea what time it is.) After a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose and another one on the lips, Henry smiles and says, “We better get you into a gray sweatshirt so you don’t get cold.” He yanks the blanket off me and I try to pull it back, screeching and giggling.

“Don’t steal my covers, you wicked man,” I say.

“If I don’t get you out of bed right now, Miss Sydney, I am going to take you again.”

“What’s so bad about that?” I say, raising an eyebrow. I beckon him towards me with my fingers. “You can have me if I get my blanket,” I say in my best husky, sexy voice. Apparently, I don’t do a great job because both of us burst into hysterics.

“So all it takes is a blanket to get in your pants, eh?” Henry says. “Wish I’d known that sooner.”

I stand on the futon, stark naked, and pouting. “Henry … I’m cold. Blanket. Now,” I whine. In a blink he tosses the blanket down and grabs me. He pulls me close and cups my ass. “You’re turning me on, Henry,” I warn. “And I have to go feed my cats. And our coffee is getting cold.”

“Fine,” Henry concedes. “Feed Tiny and Little, then we’ll eat, and then I’m back on your ass.”

I grab an old, tattered robe from my closet that I’ve had since high school. Henry frowns as I slip it on. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Just an old thing I’ve had forever.”

“I never thought I’d be wishing to see you in a gray sweatshirt,” he says smirking.

“Very funny.”

I feed the cats and head over to Henry in the kitchen. We sit down with the hot coffee and he pulls out two extra large vanilla-raspberry muffins from Dough. They look and smell glorious and I’m starving.

After a few swallows of the sweet, moist muffin, I begin to ease out of my befuddled state and the world starts to come back into focus. I just had sex for the first time since 2010, and I had it with my best friend. I fucked Henry. Holy fucking shit. And oh my God did we fuck. Professor Sparling would be reeling if he knew. Or maybe not. Maybe he wouldn’t care. I close my eyes tightly, cringing. Why did I think of Professor Sparling? He is the last person I should be thinking of now. Although I do have to credit him with one thing: he woke me up. If Professor Sparling hadn’t sparked my inner slut, and if he hadn’t emailed with me, I probably wouldn’t be here with Henry. I’d be lying on my futon with two cute cats, reading a book, and feeling sad on the day before Christmas. I’d be wondering if Henry might stop by to watch a movie instead of dreaming about which position Henry is going to take me in next.

“Is something wrong, babe?” Henry asks. He reaches over and puts his hand on my knee.

I shake my head. “It’s all good,” I say, perhaps convincing Henry, but not convincing myself. At the same time as Henry’s blatant sexuality roils my insides, there’s a part of me that’s trapped in worry. If my father is out there watching me, I have to tell someone. Even if it’s just old man Rudd, someone should know. Counting on Professor Sparling to do something is foolish. I know Henry wants to help me, but how can I tell him without ruining what we just started? Looking at Henry sitting here shirtless and barefoot in front of me, I understand why women line up to be with him. He is exceedingly masculine and sensual at the same time. That I didn’t notice it for so long makes me think I spent the last few years walking around with a pail on my head.

The hand Henry has on my knee begins to creep its way up my thigh. I smile at him, but he isn’t smiling back. His eyes are dark with desire and my body responds to his stare. I feel a lurch in my groin. Henry reaches over and cups my face in his hands. “If you had any idea how beautiful you are …” he says, and pauses his sentence. Then he leans forward and places a tender kiss on my lips.

“I think I have coffee breath,” I say, giggling.

“Shush,” Henry says. “You smell divine.” He takes my hands and pulls me up so I’m standing before him. “Open your robe,” he commands.

I do as I’m told and Henry looks up and down my body as the robe hits the floor. I can feel myself blushing. He takes a step closer and leans his lips into my neck. He’s kissing, nipping, and sucking my skin. His hands run along the sides of my body in soft caresses that make me shiver. “Oh, Sydney,” he moans. “I’ve waited so long to touch you like this.”

I reach up and grab his face, beckoning his mouth to mine. We kiss, kiss, and kiss, our lips sticking to one another like magnets to metal. Henry’s hands travel slowly down my back, stopping to squeeze my ass, and then sliding his fingers into my crack, easing his way to the part of me that’s already raging, swelling, and wet. He moves his fingers around my lower lips so sublimely that I gasp and shudder. What this man can do to me! He slides one finger inside of me and then a second finger, circling, massaging, and goading me to come. I press my body against him, crying out his name as the rising sensations in me roar. He has one hand cupping my ass as the fingers of his other hand move faster inside of me. “Come for me, baby,” Henry says gruffly. “Give it up.” With his words my splendid surge begins. He crushes my ass in his palm, and I throw my head back. Henry leans down and takes one my nipples into his mouth. He bites it gently and that sends me over the edge to the most glorious burst, and as I’m coming the whole world goes blank. For a fleeting lapse in time my orgasm reigns over me and there is nothing else on earth except Henry whispering in my ear, “You are mine.”

Henry and I lie together on my futon with our legs entangled. He strokes my hair and my cheek. He whispers sweet nothings about my beauty that make me feel worshipped. But then he starts to ask questions, and I’m not ready for them.