Chapter 3 Maren #2
He groans and captures my mouth again, and this kiss is filthy—all tongue and teeth and raw need. He's on me again, spinning me around and walking me backward until my knees hit the mattress. We tumble down together, and his weight settling over me feels like coming home.
"This shirt needs to come off," he says, already pushing it up.
I help him pull it over my head, and when he sees me bare beneath it, he swears under his breath.
He lowers his head and takes one into his mouth, and I arch off the bed with a cry.
His tongue works over the sensitive peak while his hand kneads the other breast, and the dual sensation has me writhing beneath him.
"You like that?" he asks, switching to the other side.
"Yes! Fuck!"
"Good. Because I'm going to spend a lot of time on these." He sucks hard, and I gasp. "Gonna mark you up so you remember who you belong to."
The possessiveness in his voice makes me clench with need. "Henry, please—"
"You want my hand in your panties?" He traces the edge of the fabric, so close to where I need him. "Want my fingers inside you?"
"Yes, god, yes—"
He yanks my panties down my legs and tosses them aside, then spreads my thighs wide. "Look at you. Already so wet for me."
I'm too turned on to be embarrassed. "Please—"
"Shh. I've got you." He slides one finger through my folds, and I whimper. "Fuck, you're soaked. This all for me?" He circles my clit slowly, watching my face. "That's my girl. Gonna make you feel so good."
When he slides two fingers inside me, I cry out and arch into his hand. He works me, using his fingers to hit that spot inside me while his thumb works my clit.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Ride my hand. Show me how much you want it."
I'm already close, pleasure coiling tight in my belly, but then he stops. I make a sound of protest, and he grins wickedly.
"Not yet. I want to taste you first."
He settles between my thighs, and the first swipe of his tongue has me gasping. He licks me slowly, thoroughly, like he's savoring every taste.
"So fucking sweet," he groans against me. "I could do this for hours."
His tongue circles my clit, then he sucks it into his mouth, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle my scream. He pulls back immediately.
"No." He catches my wrist and pins it beside my head. "I want to hear you. Want to hear every sound you make when I'm making you come."
"But Lilliana—"
"Is all the way in the main house with white noise on. She can't hear anything. So be as loud as you want." He emphasizes his point by sucking hard on my clit.
I cry out, loud and shameless, and he makes a satisfied sound.
"That's better." He goes back to work with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue working me over while his fingers pump in and out. "Come for me, Maren. Want to feel you fall apart on my tongue."
The filthy words combined with the perfect rhythm of his mouth push me over the edge. I come with a sharp cry, my thighs clamping around his head as waves of pleasure crash through me.
He doesn't stop. He works me through it and keeps going, building me right back up until I'm trembling and oversensitive and desperate.
"Good girl," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to my inner thigh. "So good for me."
When he crawls back up my body, I can taste myself on his mouth when he kisses me. It should be dirty, wrong, but it just makes me want him more.
"I need you inside me," I tell him. "Right now."
"Demanding." But he's already standing to strip off his jeans. "I like it."
When he shoves down his boxer briefs and I see him fully naked: thick and hard and heavy between his legs, my mouth goes dry. He's big. Really big.
He catches me staring and smirks. "Like what you see?"
"Very much." I spread my legs wider in invitation. "Come here."
He settles between my thighs, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance. "Tell me if it's too much."
"It won't be." I wrap my legs around his hips. "I can take it."
He pushes in slowly, and the stretch is intense but so good.
"Fuck," he grits out. "You feel incredible. So tight and wet and perfect."
"Move," I beg. "Please move."
He starts slow, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, and the drag of his cock against my walls is exquisite.
"Faster," I gasp. "Harder. I'm not going to break."
"You sure about that?" But he picks up the pace, driving into me with deep, hard thrusts that have me moaning on every stroke. "Because I want to fuck you hard enough to make you forget your own name."
"Do it," I challenge. "Make me forget."
Something feral crosses his face, and then he's really fucking me—hard and fast and relentless. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with our combined moans and gasps.
"Is this what you wanted?" he growls. "Wanted me to fuck you like this?"
"Yes! Don't stop!"
He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, and I see stars. He's so deep like this, hitting spots inside me I didn't know existed.
"Touch yourself," he commands. "Play with your clit while I fuck you."
I slide my hand between us and circle my clit, and the added stimulation has me spiraling fast.
"That's it. Make yourself come on my cock. Want to feel you squeeze me."
His words combined with the relentless pace push me over the edge. I come with a scream, clenching hard around him, and he curses and fucks me through it.
"My turn," he growls, and then he's pulling out and flipping me onto my stomach. "On your knees."
I scramble into position, and he enters me from behind in one hard thrust. This angle is even deeper, and I cry out at the intensity.
"That's my good girl," he murmurs, one hand gripping my hip while the other presses between my shoulder blades, pushing my chest down to the mattress. "Taking me so well."
He fucks me hard and fast, the new angle letting him go even deeper. I'm boneless, overwhelmed with sensation, and when his hand slides around to rub my clit, I can't believe I have another orgasm in me.
But I do. It builds fast and breaks over me like a tsunami, and I'm sobbing into the pillow as I come.
He follows seconds later with a harsh groan, his hips stuttering as he spills inside me. He stays buried deep for a long moment, both of us trembling and breathing hard.
Finally, he pulls out gently and collapses beside me, immediately pulling me into his arms.
"Holy fuck," I manage.
His laugh is breathless. He presses a kiss to my temple. "You okay? I wasn't too rough?"
"You were perfect." I curl into his side. "I'm definitely going to feel you tomorrow, though."
"Good." His hand trails possessively over my hip. "I want you thinking about this. About me."
"I don't think I could stop if I tried."
We lie there in comfortable silence for a while, just holding each other. Eventually, he speaks.
"I love you," he says quietly. "I know it's fast, but I do. I'm in love with you, Maren."
My heart swells. "I love you too. I have for months."
"Good." He pulls me closer. "Because you're mine now. And I don't share."
The possessiveness in his voice makes me feel warm and wanted and safe.
"I need to go back," he says reluctantly. "Finish setting out presents."
"Want help?"
He looks surprised, then pleased. "Yeah. I'd like that."
We get dressed, slip out into the cold night air and cross to the main house together. The Christmas tree lights are still on in the living room, casting everything in a warm glow, and I can see the stack of wrapped presents waiting to be arranged.
This is real. This is happening.
We head inside, hand in hand, ready to make Christmas magic.