Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Ariana
The scent of garlic and tomato filled the kitchen as I stirred the pasta sauce, reminding me of Sunday dinner during my childhood. The low hum of soft jazz added to the ambience, and for a fleeting second, everything felt...normal.
Henry moved behind me, limping slightly as he collected the ingredients for a salad. His presence pulled at me in ways I couldn’t even begin to understand or explain, considering how I ended up with him in the first place.
But that had been the furthest thing on my mind. Instead, the only thing that had been on my mind was how amazing Henry made me feel.
We’d barely left the bed all day. Hours slipped by in a blur of tangled sheets, breathless moans, and far too many orgasms to count. The only times we did manage to pull ourselves away from each other were when Cato needed to go out or I took a shower.
But Henry even followed me there, where he proceeded to pin me against the wall and slide into me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much sex.
Yet I still craved more.
Even in the kitchen, doing something seemingly mundane and boring as cooking dinner, that same intensity lingered between us.
“You really should be off that ankle,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at him, my mouth watering at how sexy he looked chopping a head of romaine, the veins in his muscles straining. “If you want it to heal faster.”
He stalked toward me, caging me in against the counter. Curving toward me, he feathered his lips against my neck, the roughness of his unshaven jawline jumpstarting my libido. Like the girl needed any help.
“I was able to fuck you several times today,” he murmured in a low, husky voice that made my core clench, a shiver trickling down my spine. “I think I’m doing just fine.”
His teeth nipped at my skin, and it took every ounce of strength I had to remain standing. As it was, the only thing keeping me upright was the counter he had me pinned against.
“Keep that up and I’ll burn our dinner.”
“Is that so?” he mused.
But he didn’t retreat. In fact, he pressed further into me. Bit my neck harder.
At one point in my life, I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror. Hated the reflection that stared back,my body marked and scarred.
That wasn’t the case today. For the first time in years, I didn’t cower as I looked at my naked body. I saw what Henry saw… A survivor. A warrior , as he put it.
And the teeth marks on my neck where he bit me only made me want him more.
“You’re very distracting. Have you already forgotten our agreement?”
“What’s that?” he hummed, skimming his lips down the slope of my neck.
I pushed him back, giving him my most severe look, but I couldn’t fight against the smile that tugged on my lips at how flirtatious he looked right now. So different than the brooding, mysterious man he was when I first came here.
“We were supposed to have a nice, quiet dinner.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”
“Is that right?” I arched a brow.
Nodding, he invaded my space once more.
“And what do you suggest we do instead?” I asked breathily.
“I have a few ideas,” he responded with a wicked grin.
I knew I shouldn’t encourage him. Not if I actually wanted to eat anytime soon. But Henry brought out a side of me I never knew existed. And how could I resist the way he looked at me? So much hunger. So much want.
So much desperation.
“Like what?” I pressed, my lips inching toward his of their own accord.
He curved toward me, his mouth grazing my jawline. His touch was reverent yet possessive, but in a good way. Like he couldn’t stand to go one more second without touching me.
“I’d start by bending you over this counter,” he began, his voice low and rough. “Pulling these panties down and spreading you open.” His hand ghosted up the inside of my thigh. “Just enough to run my fingers through all that wet heat I know is already waiting for me.”
He teased my center over the fabric of my underwear, then pulled back, leaving me a panting bundle of hormones.
“I wouldn’t fuck you yet. Not right away.” His lips twisted, wicked and unhurried. “I’d use my mouth on you first. Have you sit on my face and rub that cunt all over me until you forget your own damn name.”
“Jesus…” I exhaled, heat pooling between my legs. I tightened my fingers around the counter behind me, needing something to ground me when I felt like I was on the verge of catapulting into space.
“And when you’re shaking, when your thighs are clenching and your hips are rolling, I’d stop.”
“That’s just cruel,” I whined.
“Perhaps. But I want you desperate, Ariana.”
“I am desperate,” I murmured, chasing his kiss.
But he retreated, torturing me even more.
“Then I’d fuck you,” he continued. “Slow. Deep. So deep you wouldn’t know where you end and I begin. And when I’m done, when you’re wrung out and shaking, I’d take you again. Just because I can.”
My heart thundered, what little restraint I had left unraveling thread by fragile thread.
“Maybe I’ll lift you onto this counter,” he mused with a waggle of his brow.
“Sink into you while your back arches and your hands claw at my shoulders. And when you come with my name on your lips, I’ll fuck you harder.
So hard you’ll feel me for days. Weeks. Hell, if I had my way, every single one of your thoughts from now until you draw your last breath would be of me and how fucking amazing you took my cock. ”
That was it. My control snapped. I no longer cared about cooking dinner together or sharing a bottle of wine.
All I cared about was Henry putting his words into action.
With hasty movements, I turned off the burner, the flame extinguishing with a hiss that matched the ache igniting between my thighs.
Then I crashed my lips against his.
He caught me instantly, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that tasted like possession. Like a promise. Like a prayer.
His hands slid into my hair, tightening just enough to make me moan against him. He kissed me like I was oxygen and he’d been suffocating. And I kissed him like I didn’t care if I ever breathed anything else again.
“How does that sound to you?” he rasped against my lips.
“Fucking incredible,” I panted, struggling to catch my breath. “But first, there’s something I want to do.”
He cocked his head to the side as a devilish smirk tugged on his lips. “What’s that?”
“Why tell you…,” I began, flirtatiously biting my lower lip, “when I can show you?”
With my eyes trained on his, I slowly dropped to my knees.
The air cracked with tension as I curled my fingers around the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down. His cock sprang free, and my mouth watered at the sight of him.
I wrapped my hand around him and admired how his lips parted, how he fought to hold still.
This was so different from any other time I’d been on my knees. This wasn’t about submission. It wasn’t about reminding me who was in control. Wasn’t about invoking fear.
This was about power. My power. And my god, as I looked at Henry’s face, at his barely restrained need, I’d never felt more powerful.
Licking my lips, I brought my mouth up to him, the air between us thick with need. When I dragged my tongue along his shaft, a guttural moan slipped from his throat.
“Ariana.”
The way he said my name wrecked me. Made me want to do everything in my power to keep hearing him utter my name in that same tone.
I swirled my tongue around his tip before taking him deeper, inch by inch, my pace completely unhurried. As if he were a five-course meal and I planned on savoring every last bite.
He let me lead, tangling his fingers in my hair and massaging my scalp as he rocked his hips with the rhythm I set.
“You should see yourself right now, princess. How damn beautiful you look on your knees with your mouth full of my cock.”
I moaned around him, his praise lighting me up in ways I didn’t expect. I rubbed my thighs together, hoping to dull the ache, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more friction.
I spread my thighs and pushed my panties to the side.
Would he be okay with this? Would he want me to do this?
Just as quickly as the thought came to mind, I pushed it down, reminding myself that Henry wasn’t Victor. I didn’t need Henry’s permission to do anything. If I wanted to touch myself, I was going to touch myself.
I brought a finger to my clit and moved in slow, teasing circles against the swollen nub. I sensed the moment Henry realized what I was doing. A broken curse fell from his lips and his fingers dug deeper into my hair, his hips bucking harder.
“My god, woman. Are you trying to kill me? Touching yourself while sucking my cock? Do you know what a goddamn turn on that is?”
I moaned again as I slid a finger inside me. His grip on my head tightened, and he thrust into my mouth with more force.
I looked up at him, wide-eyed, not afraid.
Empowered .
And then he pulled back.
“Sorry,” he exhaled, his voice ragged. “I shouldn’t?—”
“Put your hands back,” I whispered. “Hold my face and use my mouth.”
His eyes darkened with something primal, possessive, and tender all at once.
“Ariana…”
“I want it,” I assured him. “I want you.”
He let out something between a groan and a roar, and his hands were on me again, bracing my head just the way I asked. He thrust in deep, the tip nudging the back of my throat. I loosened my jaw and breathed in through my nose.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Relax for me. Such a good fucking girl.”
I moaned, the obscene wet sounds of my lips on his dick and the slick slide of my fingers in my cunt pushing me higher and higher until my thighs trembled, my heart raced, and my core clenched.
When he tightened his grasp on my face and hit the back of my throat, that was all it took, an orgasm slamming through me, every inch of me throbbing and shaking.
“Fuck. Ariana,” Henry panted. “I’m going to come.”
He tried to pull out, but I didn’t let him, gripping his hips and giving a subtle shake of my head.
“Goddamn,” he hissed, his pace becoming almost too much before he exploded into my mouth, my name a benediction on his tongue as I swallowed every last drop.
When his aftershocks had subsided, I pulled off him and licked my lips. He tugged me to my feet and slammed his mouth against mine, kissing me like he didn’t care that he could taste himself on my tongue.
Then he murmured, “Panties.”
I tilted my head. “What?”
“Take off your panties,” he instructed.
More than eager to continue this, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and slid them down. Before I could kick them away, he grabbed them, brought them to his face, and inhaled.
“Fucking delicious.”
I pushed out a laugh. “You’re twisted.”
“Oh, princess…” His eyes met mine, dark and full of heat. “You haven’t seen twisted yet.”
He crushed his lips back to mine as he yanked my body against his. It didn’t matter that it had only been a minute since my last orgasm. I ached for more.
“Now I think it’s time for dinner.”
“I’ve certainly worked up an appetite.” I pushed against him and reached for the burner. But he stopped me with a hand around my wrist, slowly shaking his head.
“That’s not the dinner I was thinking about.”
Before I could respond, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me from the kitchen, his limp barely slowing him down.
Setting me onto the dining table, he sank into the chair at the head, his eyes locked on me with unrelenting hunger.
“Now give me something to eat.”
“Yes, sir,” I said as I leaned back and spread my legs for him.
His smirk turned wicked in the seconds before he buried his face between my thighs like a man starved.
And I fed him everything.