40. Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty
Kat
Not even five minutes later, I was making that a very hard ask.
But he was doing so very well. I’d gotten his boxers out of my way, freeing him from their constraints.
He stretched farther up his stomach than I remembered, making me gulp.
I shuddered slightly at the memory of him stretching ME, making me feel so deliciously full.
In a way that felt so connected, so RIGHT that the absence was mourned.
I ran the flat of my tongue up the underside of his length, causing his hips to jerk in surprise, a muffled squeak coming from his mouth. I glanced up and found his arm draped over his face, like watching what I was doing to him would be too much.
But I’d told him to watch his movie.
I removed both mouth and hands, glancing up at him in admonishment. He immediately raised his arm and looked down at me, one hundred percent demanding to know why I’d stopped. Birthday brat.
“I told you to watch your movie, Henry,” I whispered.
The smile I received had me reconsidering the use of my mouth instead of other areas of my body.
But there was always time for that after.
I knew he’d always be ready for whatever I wanted.
His body reacted to me in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
I adored it.
He played my game, looking back up to the TV like a good little boy. As much as I enjoyed listening to him, it was quite fun watching him listen to me. I wasn’t sure how it was possible that it still felt like he was in control, but he was.
I adored that, too.
In reward for his good behavior, I sucked the tip into my mouth.
He let out an obscene moan. I smiled as much as I could around a VERY full mouth.
I took him deeper and deeper still, feeling my body respond to the sounds he was making.
Fuck, I loved doing this for him. To him.
Watching him unravel under my mouth and hands.
Watching him accept the devotion he deserved. It was stunning. He was stunning.
Color spread across his chest and up his neck to his cheeks as he groaned my name.
But he kept his eyes on the TV.
Why was that so goddamn hot?
I had been teasing him to a delicious degree for at least two full scenes of the movie, and I could feel him twitching. I hadn’t thought he could get so hard, but I could’ve used it as a weapon by this point. I almost giggled at that utterly absurd thought, but caught myself.
No man wants a woman laughing while his dick’s in her mouth.
I’d choke if I did, anyway.
We’d reached one of those times when his accent thickened beyond his polished exterior, and I was fucking delighted by every filthy word. Every. Single. One.
“Bloody hell, love, you suck my dick so good. Just like that baby girl, fuck,” he groaned. Like I said. Delighted.
I picked up my pace—it was his birthday after all. Edging had its place, and it wasn’t welcome tonight. Birthdays equaled orgasms. Everyone knew that.
I was quite pleased to be receiving the reaction I was, because I wasn’t some sort of snake that could unhinge its jaw.
But I’d done enough to take so very much of him, pushing my limits just to hear him moan.
Tears pricked at my eyes, and I couldn’t help it.
When I shifted to get a better angle, the friction between my legs made me moan around him.
“Fucking CHRIST, Kat,” he growled in response. His hands slipped into my hair, and I knew all pretense of movie-watching was out the window. I glanced up at him, and there was a question in his eyes.
He was still asking, even after I’d begged him to take control the last time I was in this position. I pulled off of him fully, because he seemed to need verbal confirmation.
“Please do, Henry. Please use my mouth. Fuck my mouth. Take what you want,” I begged. His eyes flashed dangerously at me, and I wrapped my lips around him again. His hands tightened in my hair as I started back up where I’d left off.
But this time, there was pressure on my head. Pushing, lifting, pushing again, his hips following the same rhythm. This was everything I had wanted. It was everything I’d hoped it would be, even as I gagged a tiny bit.
Fuck.
Yes.
He did surprise me slightly when he went as deep as he could, then held my head there for just a moment. Then started again. Then held me there again.
And again.
And again.
His pace told me we’d reached the point of no return, and his breathing rose to match it. He was gasping for breath and suddenly-
I wasn’t in the bed anymore.
I wasn’t sure what had happened. Maybe I’d never escaped this concrete prison.
Maybe my mind had fractured and tried to give me some semblance of solace.
But Henry was gasping for breath, hanging from those cuffs.
Henry was gasping for breath on the cement floor just after I’d forced him to start breathing again at all.
Leaning against the rough bark of that tree.
On the rock.
On the gurney.
Gasping. Breathing. Not breathing. Conscious. Unconscious.
I didn’t even realize I’d moved. But I came to with my head in the toilet, every bite I’d eaten in the last few hours—gone. A lot of the alcohol I hadn’t processed yet—gone.
But there were warm hands on my back. Because of course there were. Tears were pouring down my face, for many reasons. I had tried to do one simple thing. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t even do this for him.
I was too broken.
This was why he needed to let me walk away.