Page 14 of Mixed Motives

And while I love that, I also want to see him unleashed.

“There’s time for tender lovemaking later,” I say. “Right now, I want you to fuck me.”

CHAPTER 6

KEANE

As the storm raged outside, Henry came like he was having an otherworldly experience.

A storm is raging inside me, too, as corny as that sounds. A tempest. I want this man. I want him badly—his sweetness and his sexiness, his innocence and his seduction.

I want to fuck him.

But I also want to make sure, more than sure, that he’s okay with it. I know he’s the one who propositioned me, and I know he just asked for this. But I’m worried he may be saying what he thinks he should say rather than expressing how he really feels. I want to be certain we’re on the same page.

“We don’t have to,” I whisper against Henry’s skin.

He makes an annoyed sound. “I want to,” he says. “If you do, that is.”

“I very much do.” I study him and decide not to keep bugging him. He’s young, but he’s not a child. I can trust him to tell me if something isn’t working for him. I stand, taking him with me. I can’t help grunting a little bit at his weight, but he’s not that big.

He wraps his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck and holds on like a koala.

I want too many things, all at once. A few steps down the hallway, I stop and press him up against the wall. “Need your mouth, Henry,” I whisper.

He opens for me like a little bird, and I ravage his mouth. He moans, and the sound goes straight to my cock.

“God,” I groan, breaking away. “I need to be inside you.”

“Please” is all he says, and that simple word breaks me.

I race with him to the bedroom and toss him onto my mattress. He laughs as he bounces. Then I yank his pants down by the ankles, and he helps me, gently kicking his feet to free himself from the fabric.

“Fuck,” I murmur, taking in his naked form sprawled on my bed. At twenty-two, he can recover much faster than I can, and his cock is already half-hard again.

“Let me see you,” he whispers, and I comply, taking off my shirt. His appreciative intake of breath makes me want to preen. I work out, and this is the reward for my effort, I guess.

I lean over him, still in my flannel pants, and kiss his mouth, my hard dick eager to grind against him. Henry reaches down to grab my ass, but I break away yet again, needing to make this last. “Hold that thought,” I say, as I begin to lick my way down his body.

Henry throws his arms out, grabbing at the duvet, but he stops and arches his back up when I get to his nipples. His torso is sleek and trim, and he’s so responsive.

I lick around his nipple, then flatten my tongue against it, eliciting another moan. Kneeling on the bed, I lave his other nipple, then kiss my way down his torso, aiming for his cock. I swallow him whole, and he tastes salty but also sweet from his previous release.

His cock jumps in my mouth. “Oh, God,” he says. “I’m so … so sensitive.”

As I suck on him, his cock gets harder and harder. I fucking love it. I glance up, and he’s looking at me with such adoring eyes that my heart skips like a stone across a lake—buoyant when it shouldn’t be. Defying nature. Having fun it hasn’t had in years. That I haven’t had in years.

Henry makes me feel ageless. Like who I really am without the weight of societal expectations.

God, this man. Now that he’s in the “allowed to be with” category, I’m finding that I can’t imagine saying no to him.

He’s all-the-way hard, because youth, and he’s squirming, and I double down on sucking him, wanting to see how far I can push him.

But then he pulls out of my mouth, turns over on the bed, and gets onto his hands and knees. He looks at me over his shoulder, and I remember that he’s the farthest thing from safe.

Henry’s dangerous. And I love it.

Now it’s my turn to hold in a whimper as I take in the twin dimples above his ass cheeks, his strong shoulders, the heaven I know will envelop me when I’m inside him.

---