Not that she didn’t know. She knew what the act of coupling entailed, but she hadn’t imaginedneedinganother man’s body like this, the all-consuming ache only he could soothe. How did Henry make the act that had only caused her pain be something she desired so intensely?
“Can I touch you?” Henry asked, his head buried in her neck. “Please?”
Ellie nodded, unable to find words as Henry sat up and undid the tapes of her drawers with an efficiency and skill that momentarily stunned her, before she lifted her hips and allowed him to slide them down her legs, his knuckles brushing her skin of her thighs and calves.
Henry brought his lips to hers, kissing and licking, pressing and exploring as his fingers slipped along her crease. Ellie let out a muffled cry against his mouth, and Henry groaned as he found her center.
“You’re so wet.” His voice was rough, almost dazed as his finger danced around her entrance, gathering her moisture before moving back to the bundle of nerves. “Christ, Ellie, you’re like a dream.”
She bucked her hips against his touch. “I’m ready,” she whispered. “I’m ready for you.”
Henry shook his head. “Not yet. I want you to love every moment of this.”
She blinked, and he was gone. Ellie propped herself up on her elbows to see his hands lifting her skirt up around her waist, then spreading her knees with a gentle push. “Henry, what—”
She nearly screamed aloud when the warmth of his mouth spread against her intimate flesh. Pulling in a shaking breath, she took in the lurid scene. Her breasts spilled out over the top of her corset, and her skirts bunched around her middle. Henry’s dark head moved between her legs in a display so erotic she almost fell apart at the sight.
The sensations rushing through her eliminated all thoughts of modesty, of the ridiculous nature of this scenario. Henry, her Henry, licking and sucking her most private place, drawing pleasure from each touch, driving her towards a dizzying release.
Everything was too much, the sensations growing more and more intense, until she was trembling, moaning, and tossing her head while Henry continued to lavish her with intimate attention. Something inside her twisted and coiled, tighter and tighter until she was certain she would break apart, shatter and never be able to put herself back in one piece.
Henry’s tongue flicked against her center at a dizzying pace. Just when she thought she could take no more, his gaze met hers, his pupils wide and intense. The air between them contained legions; it carried weight and texture, the future and the past, in one tangible moment. A million words were spoken, secrets shared, promises made. A lifetime of what could be. Ellie felt her heart being pulled from her body, as though she no longer was in possession of herself, but was giving a piece of her soul over to her best friend while receiving a piece of him in return.
And then she shattered.
The climax tore through her, light dancing before her eyes as she felt electrified in every pore, every nerve and cell of her body screaming his name. Ellie collapsed back on the bed, trembling and damp with perspiration, and Henry fell beside her, dropping tender kisses along her collarbone as she drifted back to earth.
She felt remarkable, indescribable. Her body was loose and languid with the aftershocks of pleasure. She felt… beautiful? Desirable? Deserving? The concepts were inconceivable to Ellie, and she had difficulty defining what they would feel like if she were to stumble upon them.
Confidence fortified her as she opened her eyes. She and Henry could share a future. He cared for her; perhaps he would fight for her, end his engagement so they could share a life.
She sat up, eager to return to Henry’s arms and help him find the same release, but he was getting to his feet, his back to her.
An icy wave poured over Ellie. “What are you doing?”
Henry tensed and spoke without facing her. “I should go.”
“Go?” Ellie stood, letting her wrinkled skirts fall down. Feeling exposed, she lifted the linen sheet to cover her breasts, crossing her arms across her chest. “Why are you going?”
He sighed and turned to face her. All the heat and desire was gone from his eyes; instead, they were cold, shuttered, devoid of anything. “I don’t think we should keep doing this.”
His words slammed into her, knocking her back a pace. “What—why?” She hated the tremor of insecurity in her voice; she was so practiced at making herself look strong, and Henry had left her open, vulnerable, then attacked when she was weakest.
Damn him.
“It’s a bad idea, El,” he said, shuffling his feet and not meeting her eye. “We’re both going to end up disappointed—”
“Did I do something wrong?” The words rushed from her, and she winced at her need for reassurance.
He released a low chuckle. “No, that’s not it.” Henry’s shoulders drooped and when he met her gaze, the sadness in his eyes took her aback. “We’re getting too comfortable, and I have my life, my future back in London… I can’t stand the idea of losing you as a friend.”
Ellie exhaled on a hiss. “Of course. You’re getting married, and I’m—”Not.“I don’t want to lose you either,” she managed. “As a friend.”
Henry’s head nodded, and he smiled, although it did not reach his eyes. “I’m glad you understand.”
She stood in a daze for quite some time, even after Henry left her room, and the sound of his door closing echoed through her bones. She could only think of that moment, the pure connection swelling between them for the briefest instant, speaking of promise and potential, of something larger existing between them.
But she was wrong. Ellie had allowed herself to dream, to hope anything more dwelled in his heart, and the feelings she had for Henry could be returned.
