Page 35 of Leave Before I Love You
“Yeah.” His voice is pure sin. “I hold my position on this one. Your body is perfect.”
I smile; I can’t help it. I fucking love compliments. I flutter my lashes at him. “Go on.”
Henry chuckles, his lips curling with amusement, and his eyes flicker up to mine for a split second before he takes my nipple between his lips. His mouth is a comfort I don’t expect. I don’t know if it’s because of the kisses we’ve shared in the past, but the familiarity is tangible despite the time I’ve spent avoiding him since that Halloween four years ago.
His tongue swirls and teases my sensitive flesh, and I swear, my brain short-circuits. It’s the sweetest form of torture, and a gasp tears from my throat as my back arches and presses even closer to his chest.
I don’t know how he manages it, but with little fuss or even a groan, he gets to his feet without separating our bodies, and I wrap my legs around his waist to cross my ankles at his back.
He walks us toward the tent, his movements steady, controlled, strong. I clutch at his shoulders, my fingertips sinking into the ridges of his muscles, my lips seeking out his neck, his jaw, his mouth—wherever I can reach, wherever he’ll let me consume him.
Henry gently falls to his knees in front of our structure, my position around his waist unchanged. With one hand, he pulls back the flaps of the leaves, and with the other, he braces his movements as he scoots us inside on his knees. I hold on to his neck like a lifeline, kissing at the skin of his now-bearded face.
I can’t even remember a time in my life when Henry’s had a beard, but it doesn’t matter; he makes anything look good.
Dirt, sweat, several pounds down—he’s still the ultimate male specimen.
And tonight,he’s mine.
Using care not to scratch my bare back against the sea grape leaves we have on the floor, Henry adjusts me gently into the middle of the tent and follows me in, the weight of his warm body covering me entirely.
All I can see are the care and comfort of his blue eyes. But also,there’s a pure fire there that lies beneath his irises, searing into me like they’ve already decided, tonight, I belong to him.
And God, I do.
I rub at his dried-out lips with a careful finger, knowing he’s been withholding most of the water we collect every day for me. “Thank you for taking care of me, Henry,” I whisper into the quiet.
There’s no music, no TV in the background—nothing to drown out the sound of our excited breaths other than the soft lull of the lapping ocean outside.
“It’s been an honor and a privilege. And I know that might sound cheesy or—”
“No,” I cut in before he can walk back the best thing anyone’s ever said to me. “It’s…unbelievably romantic and, dare I say, perfect for the occasion.”
Henry’s answering smile is captivating, but I can’t go another second without feeling his mouth on mine again. Pulling him by the neck, I touch our lips together until he takes control of the kiss, sweeping his tongue into my mouth and running it the length of mine.
As it turns out, the toothbrush I tossed into my waist pack on a whim before we left is one of the best boons of the whole ordeal. We’ve shared it, keeping the hygiene of our mouths up to the point that neither of us even has bad breath.
Henry’s hands cascade down the bare skin of my sides to my hips and stop, his fingers tugging gently at the now-looser straps of my bikini bottom. I raise my butt to help, and he pulls them down and off, moving his body back enough to get them over my feet and then settling back on top of me.
I should feel exposed, but I don’t. I feel incredibly, undeniably secure.
Nuzzling my neck for a moment and then moving to my chest, Henry kisses my skin like it’s porcelain. I can see his lips against me, and yet it feels like I’m watching someone else. Truly, I almost don’t recognize myself, I’m so tanned.
“You’re beautiful, Avery.”
“You’re pretty handsome yourself.”
Henry chuckles. “I thought you were tired of talking?”
“This talking feels different.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
Slowly but surely, his mouth works down my body until stopping at the apex of my thighs. My situation is thankfully still pretty situated, given my Brazilian wax right before New Year’s, but I have a feeling even if it weren’t, Henry wouldn’t mind.
He’s not one of the pompous pricks I normally spend my time running around with; he’s a real man. By God, has he proven that over and over since we got here.
He teases me with his tongue, and my head lolls back. My shoulders release, sinking into the ground below them, and the burden of everything that’s happened over the last week leaves my body in one big rush.
