Page 52 of Isla

“Yes. I’m not rushing this, Isla.”

“I think my pussy may shrivel and die by our third date,” I pout, untangling myself from his body and taking a step away from him.

“I’ll take good care of her in the meantime,” Henry rasps, his gaze sliding down my body. “Sit,” he demands, pointing to the chair.

“No.”

“Sit, Isla.” The tone of his voice has my knees bending against my will and my ass plops into the chair.

“Good girl,” he growls, pushing my legs apart and dropping to his knees between them.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, leaning back as he drags his lips up my thigh.

“Reminding you of the other ways I can take care of that sweet pussy of yours.” I lift my hips for him as he peels off my shorts and underwear, my heart pounding in my chest. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment?” he asks, resting his cheek against my inner thigh and inhaling deeply.

“How many?” I rasp, barely able to breathe,

“I can’t count that high,” he answers, biting, nipping, and licking his way to my core, pausing a hairsbreadth away.

“Henry, please,” I beg. His gaze lifts, holding mine as he presses my legs wider, sliding his tongue up my slit. His eyes roll back in utter ecstasy as my body jerks against his mouth. He feathers his tongue over my clit and then drags it down, tongue-fucking me before pulling back, breathing hard.

“Will you come to bed with me, Isla? I need to do this properly.”

23

Iglance back as I walk to the tent, watching Henry, appreciating him. The planes of his face glow orange as he banks the fire, the hair curling over his forehead, blue-black in the dim light. A star shoots across the sky as he straightens. A sign. It has to be.

"We'll miss the meteor shower," I point out as he joins me, threading his fingers through mine.

"The only stars I want to see right now are the ones on the back of my eyelids when I have my face buried between your legs," he says roughly. "Give me a second to get things situated." He toes off his shoes and ducks into the tent. A second later, a thin camping mattress lands at my feet, halfway outside the tent. "There," he says, returning, "Now you can watch the stars while I eat you out."

Jesus. He raises an eyebrow, pointing to the mattress. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I lie down, looking up at him, starlight limning his shadowed features. This feels impossibly special. Magical. Otherworldly. I reach for him, pulling him down until his weight settles over me, his very essence sinking into my bones, becoming part of me. It's that moment I know that if I kiss him here, like this, that I'll be sharing the deepest parts of myself, parts of me I've never shown anyone else. But it doesn’t scare me. I don’t push him away.Don't warn him. For once, I trust that everything he's told me is true. Basking in his gaze, I frame his face, his stubble soft under my fingers.

"This can’t be real," I whisper, sliding my thumb along the bottom edge of his lip.

"It's fucking real, Red. I've been waiting my entire life for this. For you." He dips his head, nipping at my bottom lip. I surge up as he pulls away, catching his mouth with mine, pulling him back down, tumbling head over heels, dizzy with desire. He tastes like wine, smoke, and sin. I could kiss him forever and never get tired of the way his lips feel against mine, the scratch of his scruff against my chin, the caress of his fingers, the perfect weight of him between my legs. I catch his lip between my teeth, and he groans into my mouth, breaking away from me, his mouth coasting over my jaw and down my neck. He sits back on his haunches, pushing my hands above my head, and carefully tugs off my shirt. His touch is reverent. Holy. He reaches around my back and unhooks my bra, laying me back down before sliding the straps off my shoulders and down my arms.

"Fuck, Isla," he breathes, sliding his hands over the dip in my waist, skimming my ribs and cupping my breasts. I arch my back, pushing into his touch. He licks one thumb, dragging it around my nipple, blowing until it's drawn into a hard point. His growl muffles as he presses his open mouth against me, sucking my nipple deep. A lightning bolt of desire shoots straight between my legs, electricity buzzing along my nerve endings, lighting me up. I squirm against him, trying to pull him back down on top of me, but he only chuckles as his focus switches to my other breast. I push my hands beneath his shirt, tracing every dip and divot with my fingers, memorizing how his muscles feel. I have the ridiculous urge to rub myself all over his body, to mark him as mine. Tattoo my name across the smooth skin of his abdomen.

My breath catches in my throat as his lips graze my sternum, licking his way down to my navel, biting the swell of my lower stomach. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs, resting his chin on my pubic bone, looking up my body at me.

I push myself onto my elbows, holding his gaze. "I want you to fuck me with your fingers while you're sucking my clit, and I don't want you to stop until I'm screaming."

"My pleasure." He keeps my legs trapped between his, burying his face in the vee of my thighs, breathing deeply. He slides his tongue along the crease, making my back bow, desperate to open for him. He sits up and leans to one side, pulling my leg from beneath him, then does the same for the other. He drags me farther into the tent until only my head and shoulders are outside and then starts zipping the opening closed.

"What are you doing?" I ask, confused.

"I don't want you worrying about me and what I'm doing. I want you to have the best orgasm of your life while you watch the stars falling above you."

Oh, god. This man. I flop down on my back, staring at the sky, wondering how the hell I got so lucky. A thrill pulses through me as Henry palms the back of my thighs, sliding his hands toward my center, his thumbs barely grazing me. I wriggle in his grip, trying to get closer to where I can feel his breath puffing against me. He holds me still, and I feel his lips curve against my inner thigh.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I pout, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes, very much so." He drags his tongue up the crease of my thigh, biting me when I try to maneuver closer.

"Henry!" I protest, going limp in his hands as he licks away the pain.

"Be a good girl and stop moving," he chuckles.

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