Henry went perfectly still.For the first time since I'd met him, i saw a flicker of genuine surprise in his steel gray eyes.It was there and gone in a heartbeat, replaced by something hotter, infinitely more dangerous.His controlled mask slipped, just for a second, and I saw the raw hunger beneath.
It was the most powerful I'd ever felt.
He recovered instantly, his expression smoothing back to its unreadable calm.But his eyes remained locked on mine, intense and focused.
“Is that so?”he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that vibrated straight through me.
“Yeah.”My own confidence was a shaky, brittle thing, but I held his gaze.This was me choosing.Me taking a silver control in his carefully orchestrated game.“Right here.Right now.”
I expected him to say no.To remind me of the rules, the danger, the sheer insanity of it.To put me back in my place.
He didn’t.
He simply nodded, once, a slow, deliberate dip of his chin.“Then do it.”
The command given so coolly, so effortlessly, sent a jolt of pure lightning through my system.My hands trembled as I reached for the knot on my towel.It fell away, pulling at my feet on the dirty tile.I was naked, exposed, in the middle of the room.He was still fully dressed, impeccable.The visual was the most erotic, degrading thing I'd ever experienced.
I dropped to my knees.
The cold of the floor seeped into my skin, a sharp contrast to the fire burning inside me.I looked up at him from my knees, the perspective dizzying.He was a giant, a god in a suit, looking down on me.
He didn’t move.He just watched, his breathing a little deeper than before, the only sign that he was affected.
My fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, the cold metal a shock against my skin.I got it open, then the button of his trousers, the zip of his fly.I pushed the fabric aside.He wasn't wearing boxers.Of course he wasn't.He was already hard, thick and heavy in my hand.The skin was smooth, hot.I could feel the powerful thrum of his pulse against my palm.
I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.
The taste of him was clean, male, uniquely Henry.A low, guttural sound escaped him, I rambled from deep in his chest.It was the first truly uncontrolled sound I'd ever heard him make, and it went straight to my own dick, which was hard and aching between my legs.
I set the rhythm, slow and exploratory at first, then deeper, more sure.I used my tongue, my lips, my hand at the base of him.I wanted to be good at this.I wanted to unravel him.I wanted to make the powerful Henry Emerson lose his fucking mind.
His hand came up and buried itself in my damp hair.It wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either.It was possessive.A firm anchor point as my head bobbed in his lap.His grip tightened, guiding my pace, not harshly, but with an authority that made me moan around him.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with a desire he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore.“On your knees, so eager.”
The words should have shamed me.Instead, they fueled me.I took him deeper, until my eyes watered, until I could feel him at the back of my throat.I was a mess of sensation, the cold floor, the heat of his skin, the taste of him, the sound of his ragged breathing above me.
His control was a thin veneer now.I could feel it in the tension of his thighs, in the way his hips gave a tiny, involuntary trust.I could feel it in the way his fingers tightened almost painfully in my hair.
“Charlie.”My name was a warning and a prayer on his lips.
I redoubled my efforts, hollowing my cheeks, sucking him down like he was the only thing that could keep me alive.I was drunk on it, on the power of reducing this man to this state, on the dizzying danger of what we were doing.
His climax hit suddenly, a sharp intake of breath, and then he was coming down my throat, his body tensing, a low, raw groan tearing from him.I swallowed everything, my own body trembling with the force of his release and a strange, fierce pride.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of our harsh breathing in the empty locker room.
Slowly, gently, he pulled himself from my mouth.His hand stayed in my hair, stroking almost absently.I stayed on my knees, looking up at him, my lips swollen, my mind blissfully blank.
He tucked himself back into his trouser, his movements slightly less precise than usual.He fastened his pants, his eyes never leaving mine.He looked...satisfied.Undone, but in control again.More in control than I'd ever be.
He reached down, his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up to his.His thumb stroked over my bottom lip, wiping away a stray drop of moisture.
“Stand up,” he said, his voice soft but firm.
I rose on unsteady legs, suddenly, acutely aware of my own nakedness.He reached down and picked up my towel, handing it to me.That gesture was oddly courteous, yet it felt like being handed a uniform after an inspection.
As I took it, his phone buzzed in his pocket.He didn't even flinch.He just kept looking at me, his gaze intense.
