His erection springs free, and I sit on the edge of the bed, spreading my legs wide so he can see my pussy. Leaning forward, I take him in my mouth, wrapping my lips around his shaft. I run my tongue over the tip of his cock, pulling a deep grunt from him.
His hands place gently either side of my face, and I can’t help but smile when I look up to him. He lets me move, forward and backward, each time taking him further and further down my throat.
His arousal coats my tongue, and I pull back, rubbing my lips seductively as he pants before me. When I stand, his eyes follow my movement to his bedside drawer where I know he keeps his condom stash. I grab one, then make my way back to him.
Ripping open the foil, I put the condom on him, his chest rising and falling fast. “You know what I want you to do next?”
He smiles, still breathing heavy. “Yes.” His words come out all breathy.
With a slight nod of my head, I turn in front of him, crawling onto the bed, my arse and pussy on show to him. I stay on all fours, waiting for him.
He takes a tentative step closer to me, then lines up his cock with my entrance. “You’re so wet. Has my flower missed me?”
“Yes,” I purr, needing his cock inside of me right now.
When he drives, it doesn’t steal my breath, but my back curls, my body feeling lighter. Satisfied.
Henry holds my hips tight, his hips slowly thrusting into me.
“Harder,” I instruct.
Henry chokes when he next drives forward, his base coming flush with my arse.
My body tightens around him, and as much I wish it weren’t true, the more he drives, the more I see the face of the man I watched earlier. The man so dominant and possessive and in control. I close my eyes, biting my lip. “Henry!”
I need him to move. I need him to be unrelenting, to take everything I have and own my body.
When I start rocking against him, feeling him deeper, his hips really begin to move, reading what I want. But he doesn’t pull my hair or slap my arse. Instead, we both come, and unlike every other time we’ve fucked, I’m left feeling unsatisfied.
“Shit, flower. Fucking you is my favourite thing to do. Was that good for you?”
My face scrunches, knowing he can’t see it. “Yeah. You’re the best, Hen.” It’s not a total lie.
He grips my hips tighter, then slips himself out of me. He walks into the bathroom, coming back a few moments later.
I’m already dressing.
“Wait,” he says sounding lost. “You’re not staying?”
I smile at him, trying my best to put my wet clothes back on. “I can’t. I have work first thing. I need to get back.”
“You sure this isn’t you running again?”
My eyes snap up. “What do you mean?”
Walking to me, he sits on the edge of the bed by my side. “Don’t play coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
My eyes jump between his.
“Dad says your father is so confident you’ll be back before the year’s out; he’s already arranged a celebratory party for your return.”
What?“Well, he’s wrong. I’m not going back. Not until…” My voice fades into the silence.
“Until what, flower?”
His words irritate me. “Urgh stop, Hen. I hate it when you call me that.”
Henry’s eyes widen at my tone. I never snap at him. “What?”