Page 46 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

When we get to my bedroom, he gently places me on the bed, then peels off the T-shirt I was sleeping in.

It leaves me bare except for my panties.

They’re nothing special—pastel cotton, plain old everyday underwear.

Yet, Henry stares at my body in a way that makes me feel like I’m everything he wants.

He gently pushes me back to lie on the bed and crawls over me.

“You’re so beautiful, tiger. So, so gorgeous.

” His fingers are now barely touching my nipples, but it’s driving me wild, and I arch my back in response.

I groan when he pulls his hands away and lifts his shirt over his head.

Seeing his lean, sculpted chest makes me want my mouth on it.

I don’t get a chance, though, because he’s off the bed before I can move.

I’m disappointed at first, but then I realize he’s taking his pants and boxer briefs off. I can’t tear my eyes from him.

“I like how you’re looking at me, Matilda.”

He takes his large hand and wraps it around his hard cock, stroking it a few times. A moan escapes me. The desire to have him in my mouth consumes me.I roll toward the edge of the bed and take what I want.

I love the feel of the smooth flesh as it slides between my lips, and I take him as far into my throat as I’m able. A deep moan escapes him. He lets me repeat this a few times, then pulls back and tilts my head to peer up at him.

“That’s amazing, baby. But if you keep doing that, I’m going to come down your pretty throat.” He runs his fingers along the front of my throat as he says it.“As much as I’m dying to do that, there’s too much else I want to do to you to let that happen this soon.”

With that, Henry lays me back on the bed and follows to lie next to me.

At first, we kiss while our hands roam over each other’s bodies.

He shifts a little, and his hard length presses against my core, eliciting a whimper.

I’m dying for him to be inside me. I feel his smile against my mouth, and then he pulls away from my lips to trail kisses down my neck, working his way to my collarbone.

When he makes it to my breasts, he cups one in his hand, and his warm lips wrap around my nipple on the other side.

It drives me wild as his tongue swirls along the sensitive skin.

When he bites down slightly—which he knows I love—he groans in response to my hips bucking up, trying to get more of him touching more of me.

He pulls his mouth away and fixes his gaze on me. It’s heated.

“Are you ready for me, Matilda? Wet for me?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Holding himself up over me with one arm, he reaches down between my legs with the other hand.

When his finger slides between my folds, he moans loudly.

“Fuck. You’re s oaked.”

He uses the tip of a finger to trace my clit. I’m dying as I wait for him to enter me.

“Henry, please. Now.”

A sexy smile crosses his face as he maintains our eye contact. He moves his hand to his cock and guides it to my entrance. I press my head into the pillows and look at the ceiling as he fills me. God, it’s perfect having him inside me again.

“Eyes on me, Matilda.” It’s a command, but his tone is soft… loving. My heart skips a beat. This, right here between us, is just physical, I remind myself. My eyes moisten as the thought makes me sad.

He stills.

“Matilda, what’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”

“No,” I whisper. “I’m fine. Please move, Henry. You’re killing me. Please.”

He leans down and kisses me. It’s filled with tenderness and affection. I lift my hips to encourage him, and a low chuckle escapes him. He pulls away from my mouth and fixes his gaze on me.

“Eyes stay on me, baby. I want to see the pleasure in your eyes.”

Jesus. This man and his words.

He begins moving now. Not fast, but rhythmic and deep. I swear I feel every ridge, every vein, as he moves. I love the way he stretches me with his cock.

We stare into each other’s eyes for the next several minutes as he glides over the sensitive flesh inside me.

Without a doubt, this time is different.

I’ve never felt this way before. I should say or do something to turn what’s happening back into plain sex, but I can’t.

I don’t want to, either. Just this once, I promise that part of my brain that’s trying to warn me to shut this down, and I push those thoughts to the back of my mind.

Tonight, it’s obvious Henry Aron is more than my friend with benefits.

He’s the man I’m finally acknowledging I feel more for, as terrified as I am to admit it.

He’s the man who makes me want more than a quiet life, single, protected from the hurt love can bring.

He’s the man who isn’t fucking me. No, for the first time in my life, I know what the difference is between fucking and making love.

Because right now, Henry is making love to me.

It’s that realization that does me in, and my upper body arches as my lower body trembles with waves of pleasure.

“Christ, Matilda. That’s beautiful,” he whispers, right before his hot release fills me.