Page 64

“For whatever it’s worth,” Henry says, emerging from the bathroom with the blessed foil packet. “I’d been avoiding Genevieve before I left the city.”

“I had sex the night before I flew out here,” I blurt out, covering my face with my hands. “The guy I mentioned. Who I was running away from.”

Henry sits down on the edge of the bed. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

“I don’t know, I just thought you should know. I was safe with him too, but for…transparency.”

He nods. “None of this bothers me. Does it bother you?”

I shake my head no. “Did I do enough to kill your boner?” I can see it still in evidence, but I ask all the same.

Henry laughs, scooting back up toward me on the bed. His hand caresses my face. “So beautiful,” he says to me. “Rude, stubborn, perfect.”

My heart swoops, overwhelmed by this moment. Naked with Henry, in his bed, with him looking at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever touched. I feel the word bubbling inside me, desperate to get out.

“I latke you.” I immediately scrunch up my nose, hating myself for not being able to say that damn word.

“What?” he asks sweetly, tucking a loose curl behind my ear.

“I latke you. I want to say the real thing, Henry. I don’t know why I can’t. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. But I need you to know that I do. So, for now, I’m just going to tell you I latke you, but you’ll know what it means.”

Henry looks at me, his eyebrows tented up with emotion. “I latke you too, Norah. So much. It’s okay, I promise. I know this is a lot, and all I want is for you to feel comfortable and safe.”

I kiss him, hard, pushing him flat on his back and climbing over him, my knees framing his hips. He moans as I drag my wetness up and down the length of him, feeling him grow even harder underneath me. Henry grabs for the foil packet, fumbling to tear it open. He takes out the condom, sliding it on in one glorious stroke, and then flips me over onto my back.

Henry kisses me again, long and deep, until I feel my hips arching, aching for contact.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I’m certain if I don’t feel him soon I’ll die. “Yes. Please. I need you.”

He nods, and I see a brief flicker of nervousness cross his face.

“It’s okay,” I say, looking up at him, “I’ve got you too.”

When he pushes into me, my whole world shifts. The gasp I let out is completely involuntary, the fullness of him, perfectly crafted just for me. Henry’s breath catches as his heavy-lidded eyes lift to meet mine, saying more than any of the words I can’t put together right now, too absorbed by the feeling of him inside me.

Bracing himself over me, Henry’s forehead drops to mine, his body moving so slowly it feels like sweet torture. I run my hands through his hair, kissing him, feeling the flex of his shoulders as he holds up his torso.

“Fuck, Norah, you feel so good.” It comes out choppy, overwhelmed, and I’m right there with him.

I rock against him as he thrusts deeper into me, our rhythm becoming more frantic, desperate. His lips roam around my neck, my throat, my breasts, but never straying too long from my mouth. My whole body feels electric, or on fire, my mind unable to discern much of anything besides the mounting pressure inside me.

Henry leans down, wrapping his arms around me, his face buried in my wild hair, driving deeper into me. My fingers dig into his arms, losing myself in the delicious feeling of his body, his weight on top of me, pressed together everywhere we can be. His hand slides under my ass, tilting me up slightly to him, the change in angle making us both ragged. I start to weave my hand down, to just above the spot where we’re joined, my clit throbbing with need, but Henry realizes what’s happening and grabs my wrist, pulling it above my head. I let out a whimper, first in frustration, but then he rocks against me, hitting exactly where I need him. My back curves up to meet him as he drops featherlight kisses on my jaw, my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead.

He lets go of my wrist, his fingers lacing between mine, and he rolls us over so I’m now on top of him. I sit up, arching against him, my hips circling in a figure eight, and I know I can’t last much longer. His eyes are hungry, messy, and I feel him throbbing inside me.

One hand grinds my hips against him, his other thumb circling the point that will undo me. “Come with me, Norah.”

My name on his tongue topples me over the edge. My hands fall to his chest, pressing into him as my whole body shivers. He groans, and I can tell he’s unraveling with me, muscles flexing, breath haggard, eyes never leaving mine as we descend together into bliss. As the waves rocking through us subside, he pulls me down flush against him, our chests rising sharply, breaths that won’t steady. His mouth falls to mine, the gentlest brush of his lips.

“Fuck, Norah,” he says against my lips with a smile of disbelief, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing I am.

I’ve had great sex before, but it was nothing compared to that. That felt like more than just sex. It was something else entirely. Emotional, transcendent, him.

“I know,” I say with a shaky laugh.

“I can’t believe we could have been doing that all this time. My God.”