Page 16 of No Strings Attached
“Henson, this is?—”
“Just one night,” he cuts in, reading my thoughts. His hand stops just above my knee, gently stroking my skin. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
“But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
The tension between us is electric, and I can’t think straight. I settle into his touch, craving more, even though my brain is screaming at me to pull back.
And then, without warning, Henson cups my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my jawline. The tenderness of the gesture steals my breath.
“Tell me to stop, Mira,” he whispers, his face inches from mine now. “And I will.”
But I don’t.
5
MY NEW FAVORITE MEAL
HENSON
I’ve never been one to lose control. Not in the boardroom, and definitely not when it comes to women. But Amira is different. She’s fire and restraint wrapped in a package that tests every ounce of my discipline.
Right now, I’m on the edge of a cliff. She doesn’t even realize the power she has—the way her lips part when she’s nervous, the slight tremble in her fingers when I touch her.
I see the war brewing inside her. Amira wants to pull away, to run, but she’s still here, leaning into me.
That’s all the invitation I need.
Her skin is warm beneath my palm. Soft. She just looks at me, her dark eyes wide and searching, like she’s trying to decide whether to trust me or to bolt.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, giving her another out.
She doesn’t say a damn word.
I close the distance, my lips brushing against hers. Not demanding—not yet. I give her a moment to pull back, to tell me this isn’t what she wants.
But Amira leans in, and the spark between us ignites into a wildfire.
Her hands find their way to my chest, palms pressing firmly against me. Her fingers curl, dragging across the fabric of my shirt, sending shivers down my spine.
The room fades away. All I can focus on is Amira—her scent, the heat radiating from her body, and the soft, breathless sounds she makes as our kiss deepens.
Her mouth opens for me, and I take full advantage, teasing with slow strokes of my tongue. She gasps against me and grips my shoulders as if she can’t get close enough. I angle my head to deepen the kiss, drinking in every whimper and sigh.
Her teeth graze my bottom lip, and I let out a low growl. My hand tangles in her hair and I pull, exposing more of that tempting neck, letting me devour her the way I’ve been craving to. She presses against me, our bodies molding together, and the heat between us turns unbearable.
Amira scrapes her nails lightly along the back of my neck, and it sends a bolt of electricity straight through me. She’s bold and tentative all at once, testing the waters while pushing me to the edge of my control. I pull her flush against me, and she lets out a needy whimper that nearly undoes me.
“Henson,” she breathes, voice trembling, and the sound of my name sends a rush of heat to my cock.
I slide my hands over the curve of her hips and lift her off the couch.
Fuck, she’s so small—so easy to move, to hold, to completely consume. The size of her only makes me want to ruin her more.
Amira’s legs wrap around my waist instinctively, and she clings to me, breath hitching when my mouth finds the hollow at the base of her throat.
I carry her across the room, settling us against the nearest wall. The way her body melts into mine, and how I could probably hold her with one arm if I wanted, drives meinsane.
