Page 56

"Yeah? You gonna read me a bedtime story?" I tease, but my breath catches when he moves closer, his weight shifting the mattress.

"Not exactly what I had in mind." His voice drops lower as he leans in, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Henry..." His name comes out half-warning, half-plea.

"Just relax." His mouth trails down my neck, leaving a path of heat that spreads through my body. "Let me take care of you."

His fingers slide under my t-shirt, tracing patterns on my skin that make me shiver.

But then his hand moves lower, slipping beneath the waistband of my shorts. His fingers find me already wet, and I can't help the gasp that escapes me when he starts circling my clit.

"Fuck," I whisper, my hips rising instinctively to meet his touch.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against my neck, his fingers pausing.

I nod, unable to form words as he resumes those slow, deliberate circles. My eyes flutter closed as pleasure builds, hot and insistent.

"You're so beautiful," he says, his voice rough with desire as he watches my reactions. "So fucking perfect."

His fingers move faster, and I grab his arm, not to stop him but to anchor myself as everything inside me tightens and builds.

Henry's fingers slide deeper inside me, making me gasp. The rhythm he sets is maddening—just slow enough to build tension but not fast enough to push me over the edge.

"Please," I whisper, my voice breaking as he adds another finger, stretching me in the most delicious way.

"Please what?" His breath is hot against my ear, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me what you need, Monica."

I buck my hips against his hand, desperate for more friction. "Faster... I need—fuck!"

My words dissolve into a moan as his thumb circles my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. His fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes my vision blur.

"Like this?" he asks, knowing damn well what he's doing to me.

"Yes," I pant, clutching at his shoulders. "God, yes."

Henry's mouth finds my neck, teeth grazing my skin before he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. The slight pain mixed with pleasure makes me arch against him, my good leg squirming from the delicious sensation.

His fingers move faster now, his thumb applying just the right pressure to my clit. I'm trembling, teetering on the edge, my body wound so tight I might shatter.

"Henry," I gasp, digging my nails into his back. "Don't stop."

He groans against my neck, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through me. "I won't. I've got you."

The pressure builds and builds until I can't take it anymore. I'm begging incoherently now, my hips moving desperately against his hand, chasing the release I need so badly.

The pressure inside me finally shatters, and I come apart completely, crying out Henry's name as waves of pleasurecrash through me. My body trembles uncontrollably as I clench around his fingers, my release coating his hand. The orgasm feels endless, each aftershock making me gasp and shudder.

"That's it, baby," Henry murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Let go for me."

When I finally catch my breath, I open my eyes to find him watching me with an intensity that makes my heart race all over again. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth. He sucks them clean, his eyes darkening with satisfaction.

"Fuck, you taste incredible," he groans. "Sweet and perfect."

I feel my body flush with heat, but I can't look away. There's something primal about watching him taste me that makes desire pool low in my belly again.

"I'm sorry I can't fuck you properly," he says, leaning down to kiss me softly. "Not with your ankle like this. But I promise, the minute you're healed enough..." His voice trails off as his hand slides up my thigh again.

"The minute I'm healed enough, what?" I challenge, already addicted to his touch. My body hums with anticipation, eager for whatever he's about to promise me.