He looks at me, and even though it’s dark, I see him so clearly.
It hits me then, sudden and bright and terrifying, how much I love him.
It’s crazy.
How did I think I could live without him in my life?
But if he doesn’t feel the same way…
He must, though. He had decided to come to me before the accident. I was the one he wanted when he woke in the hospital.
But those thoughts drift away until only feeling remains.
He stands, lifting me with him, and I wrap my legs around his waist. The room tips. He walks to the couch and lays me down, making sure my head is rested on a pillow.
He leans over me.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, but the way he says it—low and fierce—makes it clear he’s not going to.
I’m good with that.
This is the Henry I know and love, the one who takes, and when he takes, he gives me what I need.
“I won’t,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.”
Our clothes disappear. I’m not sure how. I don’t care.
All I want is Henry. His mouth on me. His body on top of me, freeing me from the nightmares, the demons.
When I arch into him, he catches me with his body, with his hands, with his groans that unravel something stubborn and knotted inside me.
He’s all tension and heat, and when I push, he gives with a restraint that feels like power offered, not taken.
He kisses me like he wants to memorize me. I kiss him like I want to reverse every terrible thing my body ever learned about fear.
The room falls away. The house, the night, the past… All gone. There is only us together, the way he speeds up when I gasp, the way I pull him closer when I need more. It’s frantic and tender at the same time, and I can’t get enough.
When I grasp his erection in my fist, he inhales sharply.
“Fuck, Tabitha.”
“I want you in my mouth.”
“I’d be an idiot to say no.” He moves up, sitting, and I kneel between his legs.
His cock is big and beautiful, jutting out from his dark-blond bush and marbled with two purple veins. I slide my thumb over the head, massaging it lightly, swirling the pre-come over him.
“Damn,” he grits out.
“Good?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
His voice is ragged, breathless. He thrusts a hand through his hair, eyes wild and focused intently on me.
I grin up at him, teasing. “Then I guess I should keep going.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m leaning forward and sliding my tongue over the head of his cock. His sharp intake of breath is music to my ears.
