Page 126 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Lyric’s hands danced over his shoulders and the hard expanse of his stomach, trying to find a place to land as he kissed and teased her flesh.

His hands framed the outside of her hips, then pulled her toward the edge of the table, toward him, his heat.

She looped two fingers in his belt loops, pulling him against her, and she gasped as he rolled his hips into her. He was hard, and the bulge between his legs was an unspoken promise Lyric wanted. Tugging at the loops, she shimmied them an inch or two down his hips before he stopped her.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” he explained, and moved her hands to the table.

He curled her fingers around the edge of the table and then drifted his palms to her thighs, tracing designs into her skin.

From the tops of her thighs to her hips, he teased and mapped every inch of her thighs, made the tingle between her legs spark and burn until she parted her lips to rush him.

But at that same moment, he parted her thighs with his hands, the touch molten against her sensitive skin.

She was practically shaking from anticipation, her core soaked and wet, her arousal permeating the air.

Henry’s own scent was stifling, the warm tobacco and gin as intoxicating as the kisses he painted on her thighs.

“I can guess what it is,” she breathed, parting her thighs a little more, making room for him.

From between her thighs, he glanced up with a smirk, and Lyric melted a little more.

He swiveled her on the table, taking a seat on the bench and spreading her out like a goddamned meal. She held her breath, anticipation halting even that most basic function as Henry dipped down. She could only see the crown of his head, the part of his dark hair, but she felt the warm touch of his lips as he mouthed at the spot between her pelvis and thigh.

Close, but not close enough. She edged her hips close to him, and he paused, sharing another stern glance with her. Her fingers tightened over the edge of the table, and she waited, like he apparently wanted her to do.

It figured. He controlled every other aspect of her life, he might as well enjoy the same thing in bed.

Assuming they made it that far if he didn’t fucking—

Lyric’s lips parted on a gasp as he finally flattened his tongue against her. It made her arms go weak, the texture of his tongue slick and soft as he tasted her. Her hands lifted to thread through his curls, but he grabbed them and wrapped them back around the table. Lyric groaned in frustration, but it quickly changed into one of pleasure as he pointed his tongue and flicked it over her clit. The bundle of nerves exploded and sent shards of ecstasy racing through her senses, and she gripped the table harder.

“H-Henry,” Lyric gasped, her head dropping down. She lifted her lids and caught his gaze, the hazel depths alight with determination and arousal, his pupils eclipsing some of the swirling color.

He lifted his head, the light glimmering off the shine on his lips, and he smirked. With one hand placed in the center of her chest, he gently pushed her backwards, and Lyric let herself be spread out on the table.

The heat of his palms warmed her inner thighs as he spread her wide again, and cool air speared her before he eclipsed it with his mouth.

He centered on her clit, pulling pleasure from her very core with every swipe of his tongue. Warmth washed over her like a wave, building until—

Henry stopped, lifting his head, and Lyric picked hers up off the table to glare at him.

“We’re rushed, or else I would be inside you,” he rasped.

Lyric’s breath caught and her body tightened around nothing, as if mourning the loss of the possibility.

“I want to take my time when that finally happens. No rushing, no time limits.” His words skittered across her skin like teases, and she hummed an approval because that was all she was capable of producing in the moment. Words were far from her mind, except his.

“So think of this as a promise for when we have more than half an hour.”

Lyric found her voice. “Okay.”

Henry’s lips curled up, as if amused by her ability to form two syllables, and then he dipped his head down again. He nipped at her thigh before he traveled even lower and held her gaze as his tongue dipped out to tease her right at her core.

Her head fell back as he circled her entrance with his pointed tongue, teasing his promise into every fiber of her being. It felt so good, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he would give her more. Maybe she was greedy, but right then she didn’t care.

He drifted back up, the wet slide of his tongue purely intoxicating. She thought it couldn’t get any better as he learned her desires, her needs and preferences as he experimented, learning what made her cry out and dig her nails into the table.

But then he finally circled her entrance with a digit, the tip of his finger blunt and thick as he spread her arousal. Cries and pleas shamelessly fell from her lips as he teased her, but it was only when she said his name again that he finally entered her. She squeezed around his finger, and he groaned into her, the sound vibrating against her most sensitive nub.