Page 98 of Chasing After You
His hazel eyes rove over my face, drinking me in like a fine wine, savoring every note. “Kiss me,” I whisper, a quiet plea for more.
I can feel the calluses of his hand on my cheek, and my breathing is labored as I maintain some of the most intimate eye contact I’ve ever had.“Je vais t’embrasser, mais je veux d’abord te regarder,”36 he says, and I melt.Whatever he wants, that’s what I agreed to.
Henry presses his lips against my forehead, my temple, the tip of my nose. My eyes flutter shut, and he places featherlight kisses on both lids and along the curve of my jaw.
I twist my fingers into the dark hair at the nape of his neck, trying to hide how they’re trembling with need, doing my best to hold still. My heart is betraying me, and I’d be shocked if Henry doesn’t hear it.
And finally, fucking finally, I feel the ghost of his touch brush over my lips.
“Beautiful,” Henry says, hovering. “Absolutely beautiful.”
The next time our lips meet, his control snaps, kissing me.Yes. Controlled Henry is beyond hot, but unrestrained Henry? I’d let him do anything he wanted.
He slides his hands over my ass, smoothly lifting me as I hook my legs around his waist without skipping a beat, my heels digging into his back. I groan, opening my mouth to Henry so his tongue strokes mine.Oh my god.Is this supposed to be as all-consuming as it feels? I pull away as he grips the back of my thighs, wanting to look at Henry.
Henry’s pupils are dilated, his swollen lips glossy from kissing me, and I press my lips again to his cheek. “Let’s go upstairs,” I mumble, angling my head to kiss the sensitive skin of his throat.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he struggles to say, slowly moving toward the stairs. I give Henry a taste of his own medicine, nipping gently at the same spot.
God, is he stupid? I know we don’t have to do anything, but I definitely want to.
“Henry?” I ask, dropping my head further down to kiss the beginnings of his tattoos on his shoulder.
He inhales raggedly, moving toward the stairs. “Yeah?”
“Shut up and let me give you your birthday present,” I say, and Henry starts to take the steps two at a time. I smile, angling my head the right way to press my mouth against the spot where his jaw meets his neck.
We barely get his bedroom door shut behind us before Henry’s lips are on mine, holding me against the door as he grinds his hips against my core in a way that makes my body sing for him.
Being with Henry feels like anything is possible. Everything feels like I’m falling in love all over again for the first time, and I can’t get enough of it. It’s extraordinary in the best way, and I don’t know how anything less than forever could be enough.
He lowers me to the ground, bracing himself over me as we both breathe heavily. He cups my breast covered in detailed lace, his gaze filled with wonder. “Is this my present? You wearing this pretty little outfit for me?” he asks, his fingers toying with the underwire, and I smile. I considered wearing my old Wonder Woman costume, but after taking his fascination with my heels into consideration, I decided to save the outfit for the future in case I need to pull out the big guns as a bargaining chip.
“It’s part of it,” I admit, pressing a hand to his strong chest to move him backward. “Do you like it?”
“I fucking love it,” he says, but I can practically see Henry’s mind spinning until it explodes as I lower myself carefully to my knees.
I unbutton his jeans, never taking my eyes off his as I tug them down over his muscular thighs. God, he’s a work of art. Every part of his body has been carefully honed for football, and it’s a masterpiece. “Step,” I instruct, taking the opportunity to be bold. As much as I enjoy Henry being in charge of these moments, I want to try this for the both of us. I want to make Henry feel as good as he makes me feel.
Henry lets me undress him, following every instruction until he stands in front of me in his birthday suit. His cock is fully erect, the head swollen and glistening with pre-cum as my mouth waters.Holy shit, the camera didn’t exaggerate his size the other night.I grasp the base, pumping a few times as Henry bites his lower lip, watching me. It’s hard, but the skin is soft as I drag my tongue along the vein underneath, a low groan rumbling from Henry as I close my mouth over the tip, swirling my tongue like it’s my favorite flavor of lollipop.
I am so turned on having this control over Henry right now—even while I’m on my knees, it’s electrifying.
“Mirabelle,” he hisses as I bob my head, taking him deeper into my mouth as my hand still wrapped around the length strokes in rhythm. It spurs me on further as my confidence grows, loving how the ecstasy on his face makes me feel. I suck until the need for air is greater than my desire to make Henry feel good, and I make use of the lubrication my spit provides as I take a moment to breathe.
“Does this feel good?”
Henry breathes out, a breathtaking grin forming. “Shit,mon cœur. . . anything you do feels good.”
I feel the ache between my legs intensify, and I understand what Henry means when he says he enjoys making me feel good. “What do you like?” I ask, and Henry’s jaw tightens.
“Spit in your hand—it’ll help your hand move easier,” he says, his eyes gleaming.
That’ll be a first for me, but still, I do it, wrapping my hand around him again.Henry’s right; it is easier.He wraps his hand around mine, tightening my grip before helping me get him off. I lean forward, capturing the sensitive head between my lips to suck as he inhales sharply. “Perfect. You’re fucking perfect, Mira,” Henry says, looking at me through half-lidded eyes, slowing our hands. I feel like I’m glowing from the inside out with the praise. “I wish you could see how pretty you look right now with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock looking like an angel in white.”
I moan, rubbing my thighs together as I grab his thigh for stability so I don’t collapse on the floor. I force more of him into my mouth than before, hitting the back of my throat, and his hips jerk, causing me to pull off, coughing.
“Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry,” he apologizes as I blink back the tears that have formed in my eyes. Henry’s touch is gentle, brushing my hair out of my face as I inhale a few ragged breaths.
