Page 142 of The Language of Love

Henry groaned at the sight and prudently closed a hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed as she used her lips and tongue to explore him, taking him a little deeper.

“Don’t try to take too much,” he cautioned in a strained voice. “Mmm, like that,” he praised as she bobbed her head. “Now suck me.”

She shivered at his raw command, her eyes black with passion as they held his gaze, tongue stroking and cheeks hollowing as she tried to coordinate sucking, licking, and pumping.

“Yes,” he hissed. “You’re making me feel so good, Annis.” He used one finger to trace where her slick lips wrapped around his shaft. “So beautiful.”

She scraped him a little, but Henry didn’t care. His Annis was a quick learner and once she forgot to be embarrassed about the wet, sucking sounds such an endeavor created, her motions became more confident.

He carded his fingers through her thick mass of curls, struggling to keep his touch light when what he really wanted was to ride her sweet mouth like a demon.

Instead, he pulsed his hips in a barely perceptible motion, reveling in the sight of his length sliding in and out of her mouth.

He wanted to make it last and last, but all too soon, he had to stop her. Henry didn’t want to spend in her mouth and disgust her. He adored how much she wanted to please him. The last thing he wanted was to destroy her innocent eagerness.

There was another reason he didn’t want to empty in her mouth. Because putting a baby in her belly had become a mania with him. Never before had he wanted a child—or a family—and yet now the idea of a little girl who looked just like her, or a boy who had Henry’s large body but his mother’s fine looks and sunny disposition, had become something he even dreamed about.

There was also the primitive desire to mark her in a way that was plain to the world.

You mean plain to Avington.

Fine, yes! Plain to Avington. He might have Annis’s heart, but at least Henry got to live his life with her and have children together.

Henry was getting far too close to the edge of his self-control, so he laid a hand on her shoulder and stilled her motions before carefully removing his cock from heaven.

Annis’s lips clung to him, her kitten tongue flicking his slit to lure him back.

“You’re not making this easy, darling,” he said through gritted teeth, unspeakably aroused by her desire for him.

“Was I bad at it, Henry?”

“You were incredible,” he assured her, nudging her onto her back as he climbed up onto the bed and spread her thighs. “But I want to be in here.” He pushed a finger between her swollen lips, breaching her tight entrance and fingering her tight channel with deep, vigorous strokes until she was writhing and bucking and drenching him with her pleasure.

Once her body was limp and relaxed, he withdrew his slick digit and licked it clean, smirking at her stunned gaze.

“Henry,” she whispered, her eyes comically huge, her cheeks a brilliant scarlet. “That’s so wicked.”

He grinned and positioned himself between her thighs, sliding his hands beneath her buttocks to lift her and line himself up. And then he entered her with one hard, long stroke.

Her back arched off the bed as she took all of him, her tight sheath flexing hard enough to be painful, but oh what an exquisite pain it was.

Henry angled himself in a way that would give them both pleasure and then proceeded to work her harder than he’d ever done in the past, suddenly desperate to be in her as deeply as he could go.

Annis was like a wild thing as he pumped into her. She scored his chest with her nails, her hips bucking to meet his, her cries echoing loudly in the vast bedchamber.

“Henry!”

Henry surrendered to his own need as she came, pounding her with a flurry of savage thrusts before hilting himself and emptying his balls deep inside her. His body jerked with each spasm of his cock and he filled her with jet after jet of seed. Annis held him tightly as her inner contractions milked him until there was nothing left.

Henry began to roll off her, but she wrapped her legs around him, holding him tight to her body. “Stay,” she whispered. “Lay on me for a little while. I want it, Henry. Please.”

Henry nodded. Just for a minute, no longer, he promised himself.

But he must have dozed for longer than a few minutes because his back was cold when he woke.

“I’m crushing you,” he mumbled groggily, rolling off her.

“No, you’re not,” she wheezed.

Henry wanted nothing more than to spoon her to his chest and sleep.

But that would be a mistake—a grave mistake.

Before he could sit up, she grabbed his upper arm, her fingers digging into the bulge of muscle, her small hand not coming close to spanning his biceps. “Sleep with me tonight.”

The pleading in her eyes did something to his breathing.

“Just for a little while.”

Henry knew he’d regret this decision later, but he nodded. “Let me snuff the candles, first.”

When he came back to bed, she’d pulled back the blankets for him. He’d hardly laid all the way down before her small body pressed against his, her back to his front.

Henry gave a sigh of contentment and ignored the very faint warning voice in his head.

Tomorrow he could deal with the voice.

Tonight, he would sleep with his wife.