Page 77 of Painted Truths

Those damn tears just won’t quit, my lower lids growing heavy with a barely contained torrent.

“And lastly, Peaches… you’re not a fling, so get that out of your beautiful head. We’re together now.” His words are plain, his tone cursory, his eyes unrelenting on my own.

“I’ve waited two years to claim you, but I’ve waited my entire life to meet you. No one will come between us, you understand me? No one. I promise you that.”

Fat, salty tears flow down both cheeks at his final words, but the sincerity in his green depths tells me this is it; this is real.

A concoction of relief, fulfilment, and utter happiness overtakes me as I exhale a long breath, allowing the tears to just fall.

“I—I’m sorry, Henry. I—I jumped to conclusions. I—"

He moves up along the mattress to take me in his strong arms, wrapping me in tightly as though to shield me from all wrongs. It feels like belonging, a feeling I’m not altogether sure I have felt anywhere else.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, baby. Not a damn thing.”

We sit quietly wrapped up in each other, listening to each other’s breaths and drinking deeply of each other’s essence until I feel Henry’s hard cock pressed against my leg.

The thought that merely holding my body in such a non-sexual manner could turn him on so obviously makes me clench my sex in longing.

“Is that a gun in your pocket…?”

The deep rumbling chuckle from within his chest where my head rests sets me off too, until I look up into his absurdly handsome face. We make eye contact, and all laughter stops abruptly.

His nostrils flare as his green eyes darken, the golden flecks disappearing entirely. Then suddenly, his mouth crashes to mine, taking it in an unforgiving, harsh kiss that is more a claiming than a kindness.

My arms reach up to wrap around his neck while my legs open shamelessly, allowing him to settle firmly between my thighs, forcing my dress to ride up and expose my white satin knickers. His jean-clad hardness grinds against the thin protection of my panties, hitting my quivering clit so delightfully I can’t contain the moan of unbound lust that tumbles from my plundered mouth.

When he removes his exquisitely heavy mass from my body, I cry out, reaching for him, desperate to keep him close. Momentarily fearful that he will leave me in this most agonisingly blissful state, I find he has slid down my body, pushing my dress higher to expose my almost concave stomach. He smirks smugly while unbuttoning his pants, allowing his mouth-wateringly rock-hard cock to spring free.

Laving kisses on my exposed belly, I writhe against his open-mouthed assault while silently begging him to descend lower.

I push down the anxious nerves that scream, I should be embarrassed to allow Henry to see me like this—so blatantly bared to his eyes. Like never before with another living soul.

And I can’t help but send up a silent prayer of thanks to the girls for ensuring all of my parts are as McHottie-ready as they could possibly be.

My knees wobble slightly as nerves start to kick in, but they don’t have time to take hold as Henry continues his world-altering assault.

His finger slips along my inner thigh as a flood of desire drenches my already soaked entrance before meeting the satiny placket of my panties. I inhale sharply as he gently tugs them to one side to run his finger along my slit, from my opening right up to my throbbing clit.

Circling my wetness several times, he stops his onslaught of kisses to my stomach to meet my eyes, his pupils blown so wide I can’t see any colour at all.

“So fucking wet for me, Peaches. You’re dripping down my fingers, and I’ve barely touched you. Yet.”

His final words are a growl, both a threat and a vow, as I feel my desire flow heedlessly from my core.

Slipping a finger inside, I hiss at his intrusion before jerking my hips forward, seeking more of this delectable brand of torture.

Sliding another finger inside to join the first, I feel myself stretching to accommodate him, sucking him further inside my greedy pussy as I throw my head back in utter abandon.

“So tight, Peach. Fuuuuuck! You’re beyond my wildest dreams.” His words are hoarse and filled with a need as great as my own.

This man.

Removing his fingers and earning him a desperate howl of disapproval from me, he shimmies my panties down my legs, tossing them to one side before moving down until his shoulders are between my thighs, his face right against my centre before looking at me, eyes on mine.

“I don’t ever return the favour, Peach, but Jesus Christ, if I don’t taste you now, I’ll fucking die.”

Without waiting for a response, his mouth covers my exposed pussy in an open-mouthed kiss, like the ones he’s given my mouth, but oh-so-much more jaw-dropping.