Page 11 of Painted Truths

He chuckles as he unfolds his arms to use his right hand to swipe it out of his eyes once again. His head is bent forward as he looks up at me from under his long lashes.

For the first time, I can see his eyes are stunningly green with the tiniest flecks of gold that seem to sparkle with playfulness as he asks, “Want to volunteer?”

“I’m no barber,” I say, shrugging, “but I could give it a shot. I tend to excel at everything I put my heart and soul into, FYI.”

He pops a brow at me as I continue. “What’s in it for me?”

My heart is beating out of my chest at my sheer audacity. Who am I, and what happened to Olivia Parker? Safe to say that the Josie on my shoulder is still whispering devilish ideas into my ear.

Before I can even blink, he’s crossed the distance between us. I inhale sharply, and its echo rebounds through the empty space.

Taking in what I’m sure is the look of pure shock on my face, Henry raises his hands and places his warm palms on each of my cheekbones. For a moment, we stand just breathing each other’s air. He smells out of this world. Like a mixture of Sunday walks in the forest, my favourite Earl Grey tea, and a scent that is all male and wholly intoxicating.

Running his tongue across his bottom lip, he sucks it into his mouth as though in contemplation before allowing it to pop free.

“I want to try something.”

My heart stalls in my chest at the intimate tone of his words.

I’m not entirely innocent. I’ve sneakily shared several experimental kisses with boys in our circle when opportunities have arisen. Still, I’ve never felt as drawn to another living person as much as the man standing before me.

It’s as though he is the Sun, and, like the planets of our solar system, I am utterly powerless to fight the gravitational pull that surrounds him.

He waits for a beat, and almost as if the words are ripped from deep down inside his throat, he rasps, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Then, without hesitation, his warm, large palm slides around my neck, nestling in the hair at the nape, making the base of my spine light up in delicious tingles before his lips softly press against mine, almost tentatively.

A moan is torn from my chest as he teases my lips with his tongue, and when I part them to allow the sound to escape, he thrusts his tongue inside, running it along my own.

What began as a gentle teasing of each other’s mouths rapidly turns into consuming each other with a voracity I didn’t know was possible. His tongue and lips are soft, in direct contradiction with the kiss itself, which is hard, demanding, and I never want it to stop.

In response to my own unchecked whimpers and moans, Henry’s deep groan sends a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to my innocent sex as he continues his assault on my mouth—and my senses. One hand moves from where it cups my cheek to run along the side of my breast, skimming past my rib cage and finally down to my ass, where he splays his palm underneath.

At his urging, in a perfectly organic move, I lift my legs to wrap them around his waist, locking my heels tightly behind his hips. I can feel his rock-hard erection pulsing right at my core, and instead of following years of ingrained repression, I let my inner desires take flight.

It’s so absolutely unlike me, yet nothing has ever felt more authentic, more right in my whole life.

Without taking his lips from mine or changing the arduous tempo of our kiss, I can feel him moving me across the room until my back is pressed against the cool wall as he grinds his hardness into me, sending red hot flames through my centre. I’m slightly embarrassed to feel a sudden flood of moisture in my panties.

But not nearly enough to stop the torrent of downright carnal madness from seeping into my body and drowning my soul.

Still fully clothed and in an act of utter lunacy, we move together, my body untried but intrinsically knowing what I want, what we both need.

We grind our fully clothed pelvises together in a way that makes my body sing as he plays it so expertly.

Henry rips his mouth from mine, wrenching a gasp of horrified disappointment from my lips at the loss of contact before he reattaches his own to the curve of my neck, his pelvis pressing against me harder than before as my whimpers get louder and more uncontrollable.

Realising his intention, I tilt my head to the side, allowing him to lave hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses from my earlobe to the sensitive flesh where my neck meets my shoulder, nipping and nibbling as he goes until I’m a panting, writhing mess.

Sensation after sensation builds where our sexes meet as I throw my head back against the wall, mouth opening wide in a silent scream.

My mind is whirring at a thousand miles per hour, all manner of thoughts swirling desperately, screaming for acknowledgement, yet I can’t seem to focus on a single one because my entire being has come to life under Henry’s fiery touch.

My body is alight, reaching for something. Something in the distance that feels unobtainable, and I desperately try to chase it, needing more, when Henry licks a path to my ear, resting his lips on my lobe as his breath ghosts across the shell when he whispers, “Let go, Peaches.”

Abruptly, the building sensations in my core reach a peak, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight as I see stars, my body shattering into a million tiny little pieces. As consciousness slowly returns to my body, my eyes flutter open to find his intense green orbs, pupils blown wide, fixed firmly on mine.

For several long moments, we focus solely on one another, an array of thoughts and emotions passing wordlessly between us as though our very souls are speaking to one another without either of us ever uttering a word.