Page 61 of Beautiful Trauma

“You want me to slide my dick inside you for the sake of science?” Henry asked. “Or is relinquishing your control to me part of yourgrand gesture?” Henry slid his fingers down to tease the tightly trimmed curls at the base of my cock—his fingertips just grazing my thickening flesh.

“Both?” I replied breathlessly, pushing my ass against him more.

Henry licked a path up my neck then bit down on my earlobe. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Please, Henry,” I whimpered. “Make it better.”

And he did. His hands alternated between loving caresses and teasing touches as he worshipped my body. Henry only separated from me long enough to retrieve the lube and condoms from the bedside table drawer. I hated the chill that washed over my body during his brief absence, but he chased it away when he pressed his hot flesh up against mine once more.

“You’re mine, Ezra. I need to hear you say it,” Henry growled in my ear when he slid the first lubed finger inside me.

I gasped from both the intrusion and the possessiveness I heard in his voice. “Is that how I sound?”

“Like you could rip the limbs off anyone who dares touch me?” Henry asked. “Yes, that’s how you sound.”

God, it was true. Something about Henry triggered those primal urges deep inside me, and I acted on instinct instead of intellect. My need for Henry to belong to me sometimes frightened me. I’d been in love before, but my feelings for Henry were so much more intense, which increased the potential for devastating heartbreak. The stronger you loved, the deeper it hurt when everything exploded in your face.

Needing to steer myself away from morose thoughts that only made my head pound harder, I said, “At least I don’t pee on your leg.”

Henry’s finger stilled inside me then retreated. “You think that’s funny?” he whispered.

“A little b—Oh!” I gasped when Henry inserted two fingers inside my tight clench and pegged my prostate. “Baby, that’s no way to discourage me.”

“What if I finger your ass until you’re nearly on the edge of orgasm then remember I have to be at work in twenty minutes?”

“I’m sorry,” I said in a rush. “I take it back.”

Henry’s laughter rumbled through his chest, vibrating both of us. “That’s more like it.”

He took his time stretching me open before suiting up. “Need you now,” I moaned when I didn’t think I could take any more. Instead of rolling me to my back, Henry maintained our spoon position, bending my top leg up a little higher than the bottom for better access.

“Nice and easy,” Henry whispered, pressing his cock against my entrance. It was only his second time topping, but Henry entered me with the smooth confidence of a practiced lover. Love did that to a person, and our bodies recognized our bond even if we never exchanged the words out loud.

“Yesss,” I whimpered, fisting the pillow. The slow, slick glide in and out while Henry anchored me to him with a tight grip on my hip was pure perfection.

“Lazy morning sex for the win,” Henry said before nipping at the sensitive flesh beneath my ear.

“Won’t last long. Need your lips,” I gritted. Turning my head, I gripped Henry’s hair and pulled him to me for a hot, wet kiss.

Henry slid his hand from my hip up to tease my nipples while caressing my overly sensitized rim with a finger from his other hand, sending my pleasure sensors into overload. I released my grip on Henry’s hair to fist my cock.

Henry broke our kiss. “Huh-uh,” he said, knocking my hand away. “I’m in charge of your pleasure.” Henry wrapped his fist tightly around the base of my cock, and I returned my hand to his hair, tugging the messy strands while whimpering against his lips. “You ready to come?”

“Please.”

“Maybe,” Henry said.

Dirty words, teasing touches, and the hottest kiss followed. I’d taught Henry many ways to please me, and he used all of them to rip the orgasm right from me, leaving me a shaking, spurting mess of a man. God, I loved what he did to me.

“That was the grandest of gestures,” Henry said, lightly smacking my ass while easing his spent dick from inside me. “How about a science report. Do you feel better?”

“You have to ask?” I inquired, gesturing to my impersonation of a limp noodle draped across my bed.

Henry groaned. “I have to get up and get ready for work.” He dropped a kiss on my shoulder then moved to get off the bed.

“Wait. Don’t go yet. I have a grand gesture for you.”

“Again? So much for Jess’s joke about your recovery time,” Henry teased. “I would much rather lounge around in bed with you all day, but it’s not a fantasy I can fulfill today.”