Page 115 of Chasing After You
He runs his hands up the backs of my thighs, cupping my ass in his hands.
“You’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks, his voice low, and I shake my head, undoing the buttons of his vest.
“No bra either.” I shift, straddling his waist more freely.
Henry drops his head back against the window, looking at me in amazement. “You are something else.”
“Or I just had high hopes for tonight . . .”
“Would it be presumptuous if I were to say the same?”
“How many things do you think we can check off that list?” I ask, ideas floating through my head, and the predatory gleam that forms in his eyes tells me Henry’s on board. “You could tie me up and have me any way you want. I’m pretty flexible so it could be fun, or you could fuck me in front of a mirror so I can see how perfectly we fit together? I wouldn’t mind practicing my blow job—” Henry silences me by clashing his lips against mine, devouring me with the hunger of a desperate man. Our noses bump as I try to keep up, his hands squeezing my hips, pulling me against him.
Fuck, I can feel how drenched I am.
Call me insane, but I love that Henry doesn’t treat me like I’m made of glass.
My hands are shaking as I fumble with the buttons on his shirt, accidentally scattering a few of them as they pop off. I pull away, unable to stop myself from laughing and Henry’s smile is wide. “I’m not allowed to rip your dress, but you can wreck my shirt?”
“Exactly,” I say, as Henry combs his fingers through my hair, wrapping the long curls around his hand, tipping my head back to expose my neck to him.“I want you.”
This time, his lips are featherlight as they kiss the rapid pulse in my neck, and I shift my hips, grinding against the bulge in his pants. “You have me,” he says, scraping his teeth gently over the sensitive spot, removing the remaining hand on my waist to slide it up the side of my body to the strap of my dress.Fuck. I’m highly aware of every sensation, and a moan slips from my mouth as Henry alternates between sucking and biting at my skin. He chuckles against my collarbone as I shamelessly roll my hips, the seam of his zipper rubbing against my clit as I drag my hands over his powerful shoulders.
“So needy,” he says, exposing my breast, flicking his tongue teasingly over my sensitive nipple. “You’re fucking precious.”
“Fuck.”I gasp, feeling a sharp pinch as he pulls my hair harder, only heightening the pleasure by blowing cool air on my skin.
“Too much?” he asks, lifting his head to check on me. Henry releases his grip, massaging my scalp as my body craves more, and I have never felt more cherished.
“Is that all you got?” I challenge, trusting him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.
“Not even close,mon cœur,” Henry says, while his hand is trailing up my inner thigh.
He drags a finger over my slit, testing to see if I’m ready for him. “Goddamn, you’re soaked.” Henry locks eyes with me as he slowly pushes a finger in me, but it’s not enough. I shift impatiently, and he adds a second, maintaining the agonizing pace as the nerves in my body threaten to skyrocket.
“Please,” I whimper as he swirls his thumb over my clit, pleasure shooting through every single nerve ending in my body.
“Please what?” Henry asks, and my breath hitches as I grab onto his shoulder and the ceiling for balance as I move, seeking more friction.I’m getting close.
The car hits a bump that forces Henry’s fingers deeper into me, and I gasp at the feeling.“More, please,”I moan, and he smiles like the devil, curling his fingers and hitting the right spot that makes my legs quiver as I ride his hand, staring directly into his hazel eyes. He’s watching me intensely, and I fucking love it.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Make a mess on my hand. Tell me how much you like my fingers fucking your needy pussy.”
Henry and his filthy mouth are definitely to blame for the praise kink I’m developing.
I don’t care that the driver can likely hear what we’re doing. I don’t care about anything but the way Henry makes me feel, his thumb increasing the pressure on my bundle of nerves at the same time he adds a third finger, pushing me over the cliff.
Henry covers my mouth with his other hand, smothering the sound of my cry as my hips move erratically as he continues fingering me through my orgasm. “Fuck, you did so good. So fucking good,” he whispers, kissing my forehead as I struggle to catch my breath, wiping his hand on his pant leg.
Henry kisses me sweetly, and at the same time, there’s a knock on the partition.
Oh shit. The car isn’t moving.
“Just a moment,” Henry calls out, and I realize half his chest is exposed because I totally wrecked his shirt.
I slide off his lap, tugging my dress into place. Henry pulls his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, passing it to me as I blink in surprise. “Henry, your shirt makes you look like you’re on the cover of a Regency romance book. You need it more than me.”
He looks down at himself, shaking his head as he shrugs. “I’m fine. Put the jacket on, Mira.”
