42. Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Two
Kat
“Iordered you some more tea, just in case,” he mentioned from somewhere above my head.
My ear was on his chest again—one arm and one leg draped across him like he was my own personal couch and pillow all in one.
My knee was bent, my thigh high up on his.
My—his—t-shirt had ridden up above my hips, but I didn’t bother to pull it down. It seemed a bit moot at this point.
“Thank you,” I said. That sounded wonderful, actually. He rubbed my back, then moved to stroking my hair, then started drawing tiny shapes on the side of my neck. It tickled, and I giggled.
“You are petting me, sir. Am I that jumpy and fragile?” I asked teasingly. He laughed but didn’t stop.
“It’s habit, I’m sorry. I can’t stop touching you, love. But also, yeah maybe. A little?” he asked, wincing slightly. I glared up at him, but then softened it a little. He wasn’t wrong.
“I’m not going anywhere, Henry. Okay? You don’t need to hang on,” I joked back. He kissed my hair and kept right on stroking me.
“Yeah, I do, beautiful,” he said quietly. Fine, then.
I shifted my hips, done with this conversation and knowing how to change the subject quickly.
The shirt slid up even more, and Henry’s hand gravitated as if by magic to my bare skin.
A whisper of a touch over my lower back, skipping over my lacy thong, running to palm my entire ass cheek.
His skin was hot against the cold expanse of my butt and hip, and I pushed into it slightly. He groaned.
He ran one finger under the lace of my thong and groaned again.
“You’re driving me crazy, love,” he murmured. I glanced up at him.
“Hmm?” I asked. He snapped the lace ever so slightly against my hip.
“These tiny black lacy things are driving me crazy, Kat,” he sighed. I shrugged.
“All my underwear are like this. It’s not like my lingerie,” I argued. He chuckled.
“Then your lingerie may very well ki-make me lose my mind,” he whispered. I heard what he almost said. I was grateful he didn’t say it, even as a joke. He remembered what happened the other night, and I was starting to realize he remembered everything about me.
It felt strange.
Even as I remembered every little thing about him.
“Well, when that day comes, I’ll make sure they give you the nicest room in the mental hospital, okay?” I teased. His hand stilled on my hip.
“When that day comes?” he asked, sounding uncertain again. I shrugged. It had slipped out. But I did, in fact, want that day to come. And I didn’t want to think about the fact that it SHOULDN’T come.
I slid up his body slightly to whisper in his ear.
“Red lace. Black satin. Some see-through mesh in the best of places. Empty triangles of fabric framing my tits. Silk ribbons holding everything together in a bow. Know anyone who’d like to unwrap me?”
He moved so quickly I didn’t even follow it.
He rolled toward me, gathering me in his arms with his face an inch from mine.
He had the shirt I was wearing pushed up to just under my boobs, and he froze a millisecond before covering my mouth with his.
He growled at me, clearly frustrated. But he dipped down to kiss my neck instead.
Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed down my neck and my brain twitched. I shifted my leg higher up on his hip, opening myself up to him in more ways than one. His hand slipped under the shirt, finding my breast immediately, thumbing my nipple like he had an air tag attached to it.
I moaned, arching my back and shoving my breast wantonly into his palm. I didn’t care. I didn’t care anymore, I just wanted him to keep doing-
THAT. Keep doing that right there. He was alternating tugging, flicking, twisting, and every move shot straight between my legs. I’d been drenched since I took his cock into my mouth, but now it was reaching an alarming level.
He was watching my face so very closely. I knew he was gauging which specific motions made my eyelids flutter closed, noises fall from my lips, or twitches come from my hips.
The answer was all of them.
I was suddenly flat on my back, the shirt fully pushed up over my tits, his mouth covering the previously feeling-left-out nipple, his hand still working the other one. I had lost all control of the noises falling from my mouth, but I knew they were obscene.
I was just starting to wonder if I was capable of coming just from nipple play when he started kissing his way further down my stomach. Chest heaving at the thought of where he was headed, I still stopped him.
My brain had twitched again, and not in a good way. It was utterly ridiculous, but having him down there seemed too far away.
Utterly absurd.
“Is this not okay, Kat?” he asked softly sliding back up to meet my eye. I slipped my fingers through his hair, loving how soft it was.
“It would be. Like, it is. I just. It’s not. I…” I trailed off lamely. He looked confused. I pressed that crease between his eyebrows gently away.
“I’m totally okay with the thought of all the things you want to do with your tongue.
I’ve dreamed about the things you could absolutely do with your tongue.
You are a stubborn man and that means so, so many good things for me.
But right now, tonight, I am feeling… odd.
I need you up here. With me. That’s… too far away…
” I trailed off again, blushing. I knew how wildly insane I sounded.
But he just kissed the tip of my nose.
“I can stay here with you. Because guess what, love? This stubborn man literally uses his hands for a living. I think we can work with those, no?” he asked quietly, sliding his entire hand under the waist of my thong.
He grabbed my ass, pulling on the cheek slightly.
It allowed cool air to hit between my legs in an obscene way, making me shudder as it hit my soaked thong.
He dipped his head back down to my nipple, showing me there were certainly things he could still do with his mouth. He grinned up at me, pulling my thigh up over his hip. This pressed my soaked center against his hard length and we both groaned.
“Bloody Christ, that was a mistake,” he uttered softly, but not letting me go. Instead, he rotated his hips into me and moaned again.
But a determined look crossed his face.
“I’d been about to say that I’d thought orgasms through nipple stimulation were a myth.
But I’m thinking I may be able to make something of the sort happen with these beautiful tits,” he murmured, palming both of them together.
Pushing up and together with those big, warm hands, running his thumbs simultaneously over my nipples.
My head fell back, and I felt my hips rock into him of their own volition.
This man was going to kill me.
“But then again, maybe we’ll do that later. I think you want something else right now, and who am I to say no to the most beautiful girl on the planet?” he continued, not even fully talking to me. He may have been talking to my boobs.
“I’ll come back to you later,” he said, definitely talking to my boobs this time. I giggled, but it turned into another moan when his hand returned to the waist of my thong. He traced under it lightly all the way from the back to the front, but then ducked out of them. I pouted.
But it fell away as he pushed my knee up and away from his hip, pressing my foot firmly to the bed. The angle and bend had me wildly open and exposed for him, and from the serious look on his face, that didn’t escape his notice.
He slid his hand up my thigh, over my hip, and finally, FINALLY, traced the other scrap of lace down, down, right where I wanted him. I moaned, rolling my hips and pushing my wet pussy into his hand.
I didn’t recognize myself right now.
All I could think of was his touch.
His mouth.
His abs.
His cock.
I wanted all of it. And I wanted it now.
“Holy hell, baby. You’re soaked for me,” he whispered, sounding almost reverent. Almost surprised? A soft, breathy laugh slipped past my lips.
“Henry, you look at me for more than a half a second, and I’m wet for you.
No matter where we are or who we’re with.
You’ve got to know that,” I admitted. Why, I couldn’t say.
I shouldn’t have. Every single fucking thing I said tonight told him so much more than I’d planned. So much more than he needed to know.
He pulled the soaked fabric out and away, just looking at my exposed skin. He took a deep breath, pulling himself back under control. Even as I lost all of mine.
Because he simply held the fabric to one side with the hand pinned to the bed.
Passed one swipe of his thumb over my clit, making my hips jerk. That sexy mouth spread into a dangerous smile.
That was the last conscious thought I had, though.
Because he chose that moment to slide one strong, wonderful finger inside me, hooking upward in a way that made my eyes roll back.
And that was that, it seemed.
“Henry,” I panted. He ignored me, too busy being utterly fascinated with leaving marks with his mouth all over my chest that might still be there in the morning. All while his right hand never stopped moving between my legs.
“Henry, wait. I don’t think… I’m not sure,” I tried again, even as my back arched off the bed, pushing my boob further into his mouth. While my hips rocked into his hand in a rhythm only they knew. I heard him chuckle against my skin.
“Kat. Baby girl. You have said that before, more than once, and I’ve proven you wrong. And you are currently clenching down on my finger the same way you clench down on my cock right before you explode. Now shush. Be a good girl and come for me,” he murmured into my cleavage.
I moaned at his words. Fuck did I want to be a good girl for him. Only for him. I wanted to be HIS good girl. But I couldn’t…quite…
He slid a second finger into me and my hips bucked. I cried out involuntarily, and when his thumb landed back on my clit and his fingers curled, I forgot where I was.
I forgot who I was.
I forgot my damn name.
But I remembered his.
“Fuck, Henry!”
He chuckled.
“One.”