Chapter 5 My New Favorite Meal
MY NEW FAVORITE MEAL
HENSON
I’ve never been one to lose control. Not in the boardroom, and definitely not when it comes to women. But Amira is different. She’s fire and restraint wrapped in a package that tests every ounce of my discipline.
Right now, I’m on the edge of a cliff. She doesn’t even realize the power she has—the way her lips part when she’s nervous, the slight tremble in her fingers when I touch her.
I see the war brewing inside her. Amira wants to pull away, to run, but she’s still here, leaning into me.
That’s all the invitation I need.
Her skin is warm beneath my palm. Soft. She just looks at me, her dark eyes wide and searching, like she’s trying to decide whether to trust me or to bolt.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, giving her another out.
She doesn’t say a damn word.
I close the distance, my lips brushing against hers. Not demanding—not yet. I give her a moment to pull back, to tell me this isn’t what she wants.
But Amira leans in, and the spark between us ignites into a wildfire.
Her hands find their way to my chest, palms pressing firmly against me. Her fingers curl, dragging across the fabric of my shirt, sending shivers down my spine.
The room fades away. All I can focus on is Amira—her scent, the heat radiating from her body, and the soft, breathless sounds she makes as our kiss deepens.
Her mouth opens for me, and I take full advantage, teasing with slow strokes of my tongue. She gasps against me and grips my shoulders as if she can’t get close enough. I angle my head to deepen the kiss, drinking in every whimper and sigh.
Her teeth graze my bottom lip, and I let out a low growl. My hand tangles in her hair and I pull, exposing more of that tempting neck, letting me devour her the way I’ve been craving to. She presses against me, our bodies molding together, and the heat between us turns unbearable.
Amira scrapes her nails lightly along the back of my neck, and it sends a bolt of electricity straight through me.
She’s bold and tentative all at once, testing the waters while pushing me to the edge of my control.
I pull her flush against me, and she lets out a needy whimper that nearly undoes me.
“Henson,” she breathes, voice trembling, and the sound of my name sends a rush of heat to my cock.
I slide my hands over the curve of her hips and lift her off the couch.
Fuck, she’s so small—so easy to move, to hold, to completely consume. The size of her only makes me want to ruin her more.
Amira’s legs wrap around my waist instinctively, and she clings to me, breath hitching when my mouth finds the hollow at the base of her throat.
I carry her across the room, settling us against the nearest wall. The way her body melts into mine, and how I could probably hold her with one arm if I wanted, drives me insane.
Then, my lips move back to Amira’s. This kiss is harder, more demanding.
I can’t get enough.
Her hips shift, and the friction is maddening, pulling a curse from me. “Fuck, Mira. What are you doing to me?”
She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, cheeks flushed.
“Tell me to fucking stop,” I almost beg between kisses, though the words feel like a lie. Stopping now would kill me. But I have to say it, because I don’t want her to regret this.
Her eyes are dark, filled with heat. “I don’t want you to stop.”
I carry her to my bedroom, her legs still wrapped around me, her lips finding mine again as we move.
When we reach the bed, I lay her down carefully, but there’s nothing gentle about the way I touch her, our bodies pressed against each other.
Amira’s hands are everywhere—on my chest, my shoulders, my back. She’s pulling me closer, urging me on, and I let myself get lost in her. My hands roam over her curves, memorizing the way her body responds to every touch, every kiss.
“You’re going to ruin me, Mira,” I murmur against her lips. “And I’ll let you. Gladly.”
I pull down her tank top, exposing her perfect tits, and pinch a nipple between my fingers. Amira’s back arches off the bed, her exhales coming out shallow. She’s almost ready for me.
I lower my mouth to her breast and suck on the pebbled nipple, twirling my tongue around it.
She whimpers, fingers tangling in my hair. My lips trail lower, down the curve of her stomach, where I let my teeth scrape the skin.
“I want to take my time with you.” My hands slide under her shirt, pushing it up to expose her bare skin. “I want to kiss every inch of you, make you come so hard you forget your own name.” I continue to kiss down her body as her breath hitches.
“Tell me, baby,” I coax, my voice dripping with heat as I lean back just enough to meet her eyes. “Tell me how bad you want it. Say the words, Mira.”
“I want you. I want everything.”
“That’s my girl.”
My mouth brushes over every inch of exposed skin, savoring her shivers.
When I reach the waistband of her pants, I don’t have the patience to be gentle.
I yank them down, stopping just low enough to reveal her plump pussy, the thong’s fabric completely swallowed by her curves.
A perfect heart-shaped wet spot darkens the front, and it makes my cock throb painfully.
“Mira, Mira, Mira,” I taunt in a slow drawl.
“All this time, you pretended not to want me.” I tug her pants off the rest of the way and part her legs roughly, exposing her to my hungry gaze.
“But deep down, you were dying for me to touch you.” I press my thumb over her mound, right where her clit is hidden. She jolts and lets out a soft gasp.
I chuckle low and slide my hand between us, teasing her through her damp panties. “I want to feel you trembling. Hear you beg for it like a desperate little girl.”
Amira lets out a shaky moan, her hips rolling toward my hand. In one swift motion, I grab the fragile scrap of fabric and rip it clean off, leaving her bare before me.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” I continue as I bring my lips to her inner thigh. “About what you’d sound like begging for me. About how your body would feel under me, on top of me—hell, in any way I can have you.”
“Henson,” she whines. “Please.”
“There it is. Say it again, baby girl.” I move higher, almost at her sweet spot, teasing her until she’s squirming.
“Fuck, Henson. Please. Please just put me out of my misery.” And it’s my undoing.
Amira clutches at the sheets, her breath coming in ragged gasps as I finally give her what she’s been yearning for. And as her cries fill the room, I know I’ll never get enough.
Fuck.
I press my lips over her clit, sucking the swollen nub into my mouth. “You taste so good,” I growl, my hands gripping her ass as I lift her off the mattress. I need more.
I devour her like I’ve never eaten pussy before—and if I’m being honest, I’ve never tasted one quite this sweet. It’s fucking perfect, delectable, my new favorite fucking meal.
“You’re going to come for me, Mira.” I continue my ministrations on her cunt. “Then, I’m going to make you mine with my cock.”