Chapter 18
THAT PERFECT LITTLE ITCH
AMIRA
I’m so screwed.
Like, heart-sinking, stomach-flipping, brain-short-circuiting screwed.
Henson is chewing his way into my chest like a worm in an apple, completely uninvited. And the worst part? I don’t even want to stop it. I can feel myself sinking.
I don’t know how this is happening, especially when my last relationship ended in a spectacular emotional dumpster fire not that long ago.
Years of compromise and quiet resentment, of being asked to tone down or shrink or smooth the edges of who I am until I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.
I swore I was done with letting people in and trying to belong in someone else’s version of acceptable.
Yet here I am, sitting in a car next to a man who makes my skin buzz and my thoughts melt, wondering what it is about him that keeps breaking through.
Maybe it’s the way he listens and doesn’t flinch when I get honest. Or maybe it’s because something in his voice scratches that perfect little itch in my brain every time he says my name.
After dinner, Henson drives me home. The radio is low. The windows are fogged. My heart beats a little too fast.
“Want to come in?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
We don’t say much as we step inside the cottage. I toss my coat over the back of a chair and kick off my boots. He shrugs out of his own jacket, loosening the collar of his shirt.
“I’m gonna make tea,” I murmur, heading into the kitchen.
He follows, leaning against the opposite counter while I move around the small space as if we’ve done this many times before. As if I’m not vibrating under my skin.
I fill the kettle and flick it on, pulling down two mugs, avoiding his gaze like that’ll help me pretend my hands aren’t shaking.
I sit on the counter, and Henson steps between my legs.
His palms rest on my thighs, thumbs sweeping gently along the fabric of my dress.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all night.” He leans in to kiss me. I melt.
It starts soft, gentle—but it doesn’t stay that way. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. My fingers thread through his hair, tugging him to me, my back arching into his chest like my body needs more of him just to function.
His hands slide beneath the hem of my dress, dragging up the sides of my waist, taking the last bits of my self-control with them. I moan into his mouth. He growls into mine.
He grabs my hips, lifts me clean off the counter, and carries me down the hallway, our drinks forgotten.
In the bedroom, he throws me onto the bed, and I bounce on the mattress, my hair spilling across the pillows.
Henson’s chest rises and falls, eyes dark and locked on me. “Don’t move.”
He’s already walking away, opening drawers, checking closets. A man on a mission.
“What are you looking for?”
He glances at me over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin that’s all wicked heat.
“You’ll see.”
He rifles through my drawers with far too much confidence for someone who doesn’t live here anymore, then pauses, slowly turning something over in his hands.
My silky black scarf.
He moves to the edge of the bed, that grin curving into something hungrier.
“Take off your dress and put your arms above your head.”
I freeze. My body thrums. My legs squeeze together instinctually.
“Henson—”
“Amira,” he scolds, and I immediately slip off my dress and lift my arms, wrists crossing over the headboard.
“Choose a safe word, baby.”
I swallow hard. “Billionaire.”
Henson chuckles. The mattress dips as he climbs up beside me, tying the scarf tight. The fabric presses firm against my skin, and when I test it, it holds.
“Good girl.”
The praise wrecks me.
He leans down and kisses me before pulling back and lifting something else into my line of sight.
My sleep mask.
Oh, God.
“You trust me?”
I nod.
“Words, Mira.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I trust you.”
He slips the mask over my eyes, plunging the room into velvet black. My senses sharpen instantly—every sound, every brush of air, every shift on the mattress amplified.
I feel his mouth on my neck first. Hot, open kisses that trail down, nipping just beneath my collarbone.
Then he moves lower, snapping off my bra.
The second his mouth wraps around one of my nipples, I gasp, my back arching, toes curling, every nerve lighting up at once. The scrape of his teeth, the swirl of his tongue, the way he sucks is too much, yet not enough.
He palms my other breast, fingers rolling over the hardened peak, teasing in perfect rhythm with his mouth.
“God. Henson.” I strain against the scarf above me.
He hums low, the vibration along my skin making my thighs clench.
“I could spend hours here,” he murmurs between licks, his voice rough. “You’re so fucking responsive.”
I whimper, squirming beneath him, blind and burning and already soaked.
Henson switches to the other breast, his mouth dragging across my skin. When he sucks again—harder this time—I cry out, my hips lifting off the bed.
“Stay still,” he growls, pinning me to the mattress with one hand. “Or I’ll tie your legs next.”
A helpless moan slips from my lips.
I might be in trouble.
The way his mouth moves over me makes it impossible to not move. My hips lift and twist, searching for relief that he keeps just out of reach.
“Tsk.” Henson pulls back. “What did I say, Temptress?”
“I can’t help it,” I pant, chest heaving beneath the blindfold. “You’re driving me crazy.”
He shifts off the bed, and for a second I think maybe he’s letting it go.
Until I hear him open the closet.
“Henson. What are you doing?”
A beat. A rustle.
“You had your chance to behave.”
The mattress dips again and something soft brushes against my ankles. I realize too late what he’s doing.
“Henson—wait—”
“If you can’t handle it, you know what to say.”
I freeze.
Billionaire.
I don’t say it.
He gently parts my legs and fastens what feels like a silk robe belt around one ankle, looping it through the lower post of the footboard, then does the same with the other.
The stretch of my thighs has me trembling. I’m fully exposed.
When Henson climbs back over me, sliding his palms up the insides of my bound thighs, I swear I feel every molecule in the air shift.
“Better,” he says, and his mouth is on me again.
Then there’s the soft scrape of a drawer opening, followed by a dark chuckle.
My stomach drops. “What… what did you just find?”
No answer.
Instead, I hear a buzzing sound.
Oh. My. God.
“Henson.” My voice is half plea, half warning. “Put that back.”
A laugh, full of wicked delight. “Oh, Temptress. You’ve been holding out on me.”
My face is on fire. “Do not use that—”
“But you already look so pretty, all tied up for me,” he whispers, the sound of the vibrator getting closer. “It’d be a shame not to give you a little extra… help.”
“Henson, I swear to God—”
He presses a kiss to my inner thigh and his voice drops. “You can always say the word.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out—because I don’t want him to stop.
I want him to ruin me like the heartbreaker I know he is.
Henson hums, pleased by my silence. Then I feel the tip of the toy graze my entrance, featherlight, teasing, and my entire body locks up.
“Let’s see how many times I can make you come before you start begging me to stop.” He slowly drags it up to my clit.
Lightning strikes straight through my spine. I jerk in the restraints, thighs trying to close, but they can’t.
“Already squirming? You going to come for me?”
“I—Henson—” I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. My brain is short-circuiting.
He licks a slow line up my inner thigh. “Use your words, or I’ll keep going until you forget how.”
Henson moves the vibrator lower, circling my entrance, letting me feel the pulse, and then he slides it inside me.
I cry out, head thrown back, chest heaving. “Oh my God—”
“Oh, you like that.” He chuckles darkly, his mouth already descending between my legs again. He licks me while the toy vibrates inside me, his tongue swirling over my clit, sucking relentlessly.
I scream as I come, writhing against the bonds—but he doesn’t stop. Henson keeps licking, groaning and sucking, like he’s addicted to every sound I make.
“That’s my good little Temptress. You’re so fucking wet. You love being used like this.” I whimper, and he adds, “I could keep you like this. Tied up, stuffed full, dripping for me while I make you come over and over until your voice is gone.”
Pressure builds again in my core. My thighs tremble, vision swimming behind the blindfold.
“Henson, please—”
He grunts, licking harder, fingers gripping my hips as if holding me down for dear life.
“You’re doing so fucking good.”
The second orgasm crashes into me so violently I scream again, tears slipping from under the mask.
Henson still doesn’t stop.
I’m soaked, trembling, on the brink of madness. My body can’t take any more, but it wants to.
My voice is hoarse, a broken sob of pleasure. “Please, I can’t—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His words are pure command now. “You can take one more for me. And you will.”
He drives the vibrator deeper, tongue back on my clit, fast and ruthless—and my entire body explodes. A final, brutal orgasm tears through me, my cries ragged, limbs twitching in the restraints.
“Good fucking girl. You’re so perfect.”
After another gentle lick, Henson climbs onto the bed and gently unties my ankles, then my arms. As soon as he loosens the scarf and gathers me in his arms, I collapse into him.
“Got you, baby.” Henson kisses the crown of my head. “You okay?”
I nod weakly as he takes my mask off slowly. My eyes are swollen and full of tears.
Henson brings one hand to my face and strokes his thumb along my cheek, catching a drop before it falls.
“You did so good for me, baby. I’ll only ever make you cry like this,” he whispers, voice tight with promise. “Tears of pleasure. From being taken care of. That’s all you get with me. You hear me?”
My lips tremble and another tear slips free.
I should be scared of how easy it is to trust him, to fall into him like this. But I’m not, when he’s the only anchor I want.
Henson leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Give me a chance. Say yes to me, Amira.”
For the first time in a long time, I feel wanted—without conditions. Safe without having to earn it. Henson has managed to ruin every one of my defenses.
My lips part. “Yes. Okay.”