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Henley is in my bed, lying on his side, the blankets pooled around his waist.
He’s here.
His eyes fixed on me.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
He gives me a slow sexy smile, the kind that sends shivers down my spine. “Get in here.”
He flicks the blanket back, revealing his naked, muscular body. My eyes roam down his hardened torso and then come to rest on his large erection.
My sex flutters.
“Been helping yourself while you wait for me?” I murmur as I look at it, engorged and angry, ready to blow.
His eyes darken, and he gives himself a slow hard stroke. I see the shimmer of pre-ejaculate on his tip in the filtered light. “Maybe . . .” He strokes himself again, hard, long, and slow.
I clench, arousal filtering through my system.
The moonlight catches the muscles in his arm as he strokes it again. With his dark eyes locked on mine, he speeds up, pumping himself. His hips rising to get a deeper connection.
My breath catches as I watch him.
So fucking hot.
“Get over here,” he growls.
I drop the towel and walk to the bed. He rolls on his side and lifts one of my legs onto the bed, his tongue lifting to lick me there.
Oh . . .
My hands go to his hair as he pulls me apart with his thumbs, his tongue licking me deep, his teeth grazing my clitoris.
Goose bumps scatter up my spine, and he throws me onto the bed, his strong hands on my inner thighs holding my legs open wide. His tongue takes no prisoners as he licks me deeply, sucking, moaning into me as if this is the best thing he’s ever done. As if he will die if I don’t come on his tongue.
I begin to writhe beneath him. His cock hangs heavily between his legs as he goes down on me. The sound of his slurps of my arousal, hearing his moans of ecstasy . . . feeling the want in the room between us.
Every cell is on fire.
Damn, if this isn’t the best homecoming of all time.
I reach for his erection, and he pulls it out of my hand. “I don’t need any help tonight, angel. I’m going to blow from the taste of you.” With my eyes fixed on the pre-ejaculate dripping from his end, I clench hard.
Oh . . .
My back arches from the bed. “Hen.” My hands fist his hair as I begin to ride his face.
The need to orgasm takes me over.
The burn of his stubble, his strong tongue, teeth grazing. And then he slides three thick fingers into my sex, and I shudder as I come hard.
He pumps me hard and fast, working every cry out of me, the muscles in his shoulders contracting.
I pant, gasping for breath. And then he keeps licking . . . cleaning me up. His face glistens with my orgasm. His dark eyes hold mine. “I need more.”
I stare at him in the filtered light, at a loss for words. For the first time since we met . . . I wonder if I can handle him. I’ve never met someone so virile. This is primal mating in its ultimate form.
Henley James was born to fuck, his body unlike any I have ever known.
