Page 66 of Leave Before I Love You
Previously, I had the stamina of legend—I could always fuck for hours. But Avery feels too fucking good, and I have to make a concerted, focused effort to hold back my climax. I refuse, however, to come before her.
Her pussy clenches around me, and I grit my teeth as I flip onto my back and adjust her body above mine. “Ride me,” I tell her, mymouth parted as I watch her seat herself fully. “Make yourself come on my cock, Avery.”
She moans, but she doesn’t hesitate to brace herself with her hands on my chest and get to work. Her hips move in the sexiest fucking way as she finds her rhythm, taking what she needs and leaving me with the scraps.
It’s so hot, so uninhibited. I swear, I could watch it all night.
“God, Henry,” she whispers through a moan. Her head falls back, and her breasts bounce softly up and down as she rides me.
I can’t look away. All I can do is watch her and do my fucking best to hold my climax back until she comes.
Her lips part and her eyes fall closed and her body trembles as waves of her own pleasure consume her. I bite the tip of my tongue to stave off finishing, the beauty of her climax deserving of every last vestige of my attention. She moans and screams, and my heart races at a gallop as her neck bends back with no control, my entire world focused at the center of her tanned thighs.She’s so fucking perfect, and I can’t take it anymore.
When the urge to come grows too strong, too all-consuming, I flip Avery onto her back again and thrust my cock as deep as I can go. Her pussy grips me tightly as I plunge toward my climax recklessly, raucously, like a runaway, million-ton train. At the last possible fucking second, I pull out and paint her perfect fucking skin with my come.
Her hair fans out on the white of my sheets, her hands above her head and her eyes narrowed with satisfaction. She’s sated, safe, and her belly is covered in my come.
My God, I feel like a warrior, a caveman—so fucking possessive, the sound of a low growl accompanies my blood as it rages through my veins.
She’s mine. She has to be.
I make a quick trip to the bathroom for a towel, wiping Avery’s belly to the sound of her soft giggle when I return, and then chuck it to the side to climb into the cocoon of my bed with her. Shesnuggles up to me again, her head resting on my chest as I run my fingers through her hair.
The room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing as we come back down to normal, and I can’t stop myself from pressing a tender, greedy kiss to the top of her head. She’s warm, her body curled against mine like she belongs there, and it feels so right, all sorts of things start making sense.
Shedoesbelong here. She is the missing piece to my puzzle, and nothing is right in this world without moments exactly like this.
“Henry?” she murmurs as her fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin.
“Yeah?”
She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Hey.” I tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me. “You can tell me anything.”
She bites her lip, her eyes searching mine. “I’m just…really glad I came here tonight.”
“Me too,” I say, my voice firm. “More than you know.”
She smiles before settling back against me, and I hold her close, just like I did on the island. I stroke her hair and I sing, ever so softly about a special bird, until her breathing evens out and she falls back asleep.
I stay awake for a while, just watching her. The way her lashes rest against her cheeks, the easy rise and fall of her chest.
God, she’s beautiful. I want her to be mine, but I’malreadyhers.
I don’t know when it happened exactly—somewhere between getting stranded on the island and watching her hold it together when everything else fell apart.
But there’s no going back.
Avery
My eyes crack open, the obnoxious sound of Harry Styles singing about watermelons and a familiar warmth wrapped around me—Henry’s arm draped lazily over my waist—mixing in a confusing way.
I flail the covers off my legs in a panic at first, and then I realize it’s just my phone’s new ringtone, and the bewilderment, of course, is because the last time I was wrapped up in a man, I didn’t have a phone at all.
Henry’s still asleep, his breaths slow and even, my initial jolt of movement somehow not rousing him, and because of that, I decide to ignore the call entirely.
Henry’s still completely naked beside me, his big, strong, muscular frame looking like something out of my wildest fantasies. My mind latches on to the fact that I’m also naked, my clothes still gone from the sex we had late last night.
