Page 20 of Tied to You
His place is paid for by his parents. It’s over the top and ridiculously oversized for a bachelor. Unlike most men I know, though, Henry doesn’t show it off. He’s humble about it. That’s why I’ve always been drawn to him over anyone else.
Until now.
“Can I use the bathroom?” I ask him.
“Sure,” he replies, letting me help myself to his place. I’ve been here before; I know where I’m going.
I make it to his room and strip down to my underwear. Taking a long look at myself in the mirror, my mascara has run down my cheeks and my hair makes me look like a drowned rat. I smile at myself and how ridiculous I am to think I could pull this off.
Reaching for my bag, I take another ginger sweet knowing I reallydohave a full day of work ahead of me tomorrow. I can’t afford to show up hungover. I swallow it down with some water from the tap before I stand staring at myself again.
Pull yourself together.
No matter what has or hasn’t happened between Travis and me, only I can decide what happens next. I could reach for the safety that comes with going home, but that’s too easy. I want to be who I want to be, regardless of the danger that may come with it.
I sigh then take off my bra and knickers. I walk to the large shower and turn it on, running the water much hotter than I probably should. It burns my skin as I step under it, bringing my body out in goosebumps. All I can think about is Travis and how he looked whilst with Sophie.
His powerful muscles dominated every inch of her. And how he had her tied up… my breath hitches as I close my eyes, picturing it. Sophie was drowning in him. I can see her eyes running wild whenever he hit her. It wasn’t aggression or violence, but pure, animalistic instinct. He was fucking her like a man should fuck a woman.
My bottom lip curls under my teeth as I tilt my head under the spray, allowing it to clean me like the rain. The heavy drops ricochet off my breasts and I can’t help myself. My hand slides over my stomach, lowering to between my legs. Adjusting my stance, I massage my clit, the image of Travis and Sophie coming into view again.
I wanted to be her.
I wanted him to do that to me.
Hearing a bang from outside, I stop, the heavy beat of my heart thumping in my ears subsiding. I quickly use Henry’s products then open the shower, looking for a towel. There isn’t one.
Ringing the water out of my hair, the bathroom door opens, and Henry stands there holding out a towel for me.
He must sense my heightened state because we stare at each other, his eyes then dropping over my naked body. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s running through Henry’s mind when I see his jeans tighten the way they do.
He may not be the man I want, but he is the man who has always been there for me, and I him in our hours of need.
Leaning back against the shower, I cross one leg across the other, placing my hands behind me, my intentions clear.
Henry slowly walks towards me, his eyes dropping to where my legs are crossed. He’s breathing heavy as he slowly lowers his hand to my pussy. “Letme see it,” he says.
Not moving my hands from behind my back, I begin moving my leg, opening it out to the side. My neatly trimmed pussy is on show for him, and he stares at it, desire and want smeared all over his face.
I don’t stop him when he drops to his knees and hooks my leg over his shoulder.
Instead, I throw my head back as his tongue begins fucking me.
He licks with delicate, tender strokes, occasionally slipping it inside me before moving back to my clit.
Hot heat dances in my blood, but I need more. “Wait,” I half pant.
Henry looks up at me, my arousal on his lips.
I place a finger under his chin and pull up. “Take me to bed.”
With a smile, he stands, taking my hand in his and leads me to his room. I was wanting him to throw me over his shoulder, but that isn’t his style. He’s more of the gentle kind.
Stopping at the end of the bed, I trail my hand down the front of Henry’s shirt. I feel his nipples harden as I make it to the bottom button. Untucking it from his jeans, I run the tips of my fingers through the small trail of hair sat just above his belt. He moans, and I undo it, slipping my hand into his briefs.
“Fuck, Mollie.”
“Shh,” I hush him, sliding his jeans down over his waist.
