Page 86 of A Play For The Heart
“No,” Henry whines, still half asleep, “stay.”
“I need to pee,” I laugh. I’m confident Henry is going to turn into my own personal koala. Stuck to my side wherever I go for the foreseeable future. You won’t hear me complaining about it.
I place a kiss onto the hand holding my wrist, then stand up from the bed and quietly pad to the bathroom. After I pee, I brush my teeth and head back into the bedroom. Henry’s finally woken up, sitting against the headboard, looking sleepy and hot as hell.
His eyes track my movements, full of hunger and desire, as I move about the room. The focus he’s giving me sends tingles along my body and goosebumps break out along my skin.
“Come here,” he says, voice husky and full of sleep.
I move towards him, and the moment I’m in arm’s reach, he grabs my hips and drags me into his lap. His lips immediately go to my pulse point, the feeling sending shivers down my spine.
“I love you,” he murmurs into my skin, continuing to place soft kisses across my neck. I turn in his lap, straddling his hips. I cradle his head in my hands, the rough stubble grazing my palms. His lips meet mine, the kiss gentle and slow.
“I remember something about making it up to me?” I ask, mischief lacing my voice. As much as I try to keep a serious face, I can’t help the massive grin that spits my face.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, eyes going dark.
“Mhm,” I manage as his hands splay against my ass, dragging me forward. I’m pressed against him, and I can feel his erection.
“Better get a head start.”
Before I can even comprehend what he said, I’m flipped over onto my back, Henry leaning over me, looking like a Greek god, promising sin, and carnal pleasure.
“Lift your arms for me, baby.”
I do as he says, my arms rising over my head so he can drag the shirt over my head. He notices the shirt that I was wearing, his pupils going black, and the yearning written all over his face. It’s a t-shirt I stole from his apartment after I slept over one night. His scent was all over it. I’ve worn it every night since the hospital. I’ve refused to wash it, afraid the smell would disappear, even though it's covered in tears.
I scoot back, leaning against the headboard, naked except for a pair of granny panties. At one point in time, they were black. Now they’re a faded navy color. I don’t have a moment to feel self-conscious about my underwear choice when he grabs the waistband and looks to me for consent. Nodding my head, Henry drags the underwear down my legs and tosses them to the side.
“Mine,” he grumbles as he drinks me in.
The declaration and claiming sends heat straight to my core. Never in my life did I expect Henry to behave all caveman-like. Nor did I expect to like it as much as I do.
“Yours,” I say back, grabbing him by the waist of his boxers and pulling him towards me.
Our lips slam together, the kiss a claiming. A declaration. Everything still unsaid is poured into it. His tongue teases me, sliding against the seam of my lips. He nips at my bottom lip, and I arch into him, searching for more.
I swear to God, if he doesn’t put his hands on me, I’m going to lose my shit.
The universe must fear my wrath because Henry’s hands slide up my waist to my chest. He takes my nipple in his finger, pinching and twisting. The sensation is electric, and I grind into him, needing friction.
I drag my hands down his torso, running my fingers across the lines of muscle. Henry begins placing kisses down my neck towards my collarbone. I shudder when he lightly sucks at the base of my neck. He continues down, taking my breast into his mouth, sucking my nipple deep into his mouth. I moan at the sensation, and heat pools in my stomach.
“I missed those breathy little sounds you make,” Henry whispers, focusing his attention on the other breast. I arch into him, my hands flying to his hair, pulling at the strands.
He groans and the sound spurs me on. Pulling harder on his hair, he looks up at me, gaze devouring me.
“Keep that up and this won’t last long,” he growls.
I watch him as he slowly moves toward the end of the bed, hobbling off. Until this moment I forgot about his ankle. I cringe, immediately cooling off at the prospect he’s in pain.
“Oh god. I forgot. We can—Let’s stop,” I say, looking down at his ankle.
“I will crumble to dust and die if we stop,” he responds, eyes feral.
I gasp at the declaration. It’s both dramatic and soul-consuming. Henry slowly kneels at the end of the bed, grabbing my ankles and dragging me towards him. I giggle at the movement but quickly stop when his mouth latches onto me, his tongue lapping me from my entrance to my clit. The moan I release is so loud I’m sure it woke Maren up. If I wasn’t nearly high from the feeling, I would be embarrassed, but all I can focus on is Henry's mouth on me.
His stubble rubs against my inner thigh, further igniting the fire in my core. I jolt upwards as he pushes two fingers inside of me, working them in and out. His tongue never stops, lapping and licking. He circles my clit, then flicks it with the tip of his tongue. I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge.
