When It's Love (21 page)

I wake up to the feeling of Henry nuzzling his face into mine under the pillow.

“How can you breathe under there?” he whispers.

“What time is it?” I murmur still half asleep. Then with a start I toss the pillow aside and sit up, realizing I fell asleep instead of returning to Christmas dinner.

“Shit, Henry,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”

“No worries. It’s almost midnight. I was going to let you sleep through the night, but I want my Christmas gift before the day is over,” Henry murmurs.

“The offer doesn’t expire until the end of Christmas day,” I say sardonically. “Any news on my apartment? I’m worried about Tiny and Little.”

“An officer called Mayor Ryan. Everything is fine. There was no car on the street and they checked the front door of your building and even went inside to check your apartment. No signs of a break-in.”

“Thank God,” I say, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

“They did find one thing, though,” Henry says, as he reaches over to stroke my hair. “There was a note with your name on it sticking out of your mailbox. The officer didn’t think it looked suspicious, but he took it down to the station just in case.”

“Fuck,” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “Why is this happening? Why can’t he leave me alone?”

“Let’s forget about it tonight,” Henry says adamantly. “My dad said he’ll ask Connor to drive over to the station and pick it up for you after Christmas. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” I say. “Why suffer today when you can suffer tomorrow?”

“Little Miss Rumpled Sydney who sleeps in her clothes, I’m going to see that you suffer today, but in a good way,” Henry says provocatively and reaches for me.

“But first you need to have the dessert that you missed. And then we have to exchange gifts.”

“You’ve already gotten me way too many gifts, but dessert sounds nice,” I say eyeing the tray of goods on the vanity table. “In other words, bring on the chocolate,” I declare. Henry has brought up a bottle of Champagne, two glasses, two small bottles of Evian water, and a gigantic box of Godiva truffles.

“The Ryans brought the chocolate as a gift and my mother, of course, doesn’t want the temptation around her. So, it’s all ours,” Henry says. He walks over to the vanity table, brings the gold box of chocolates to the bed, and sets it down beside me. “There are 165 truffles in here,” he brags. “Want to try to finish the box tonight?”

“Let’s start with one,” I say giggling as I reach toward the box.

“Hold on,” Henry says capturing my hand playfully. “First you have to take off your sweater. You’re not getting something for nothing.”

I oblige, enjoying the look of want that flickers in Henry’s eyes as soon as he sees me in the black lace bra he bought for me at Oui. He chooses a truffle from the box and brings it to my lips. “Lick it,” he says. Again, I do as I’m told.

“Do you know what flavor it is?” Henry asks slyly.

“Chocolate!” I say.

“Don’t toy with me, baby, or you won’t get your truffle.”

“I need another lick,” I say in a hush, and Henry brings the candy to my lips. His fingertips are in my mouth and I close my lips around them, sucking the chocolate in as I do. It’s melting in my mouth and I can taste liqueur in the center.

“I think there’s orange liqueur in the middle,” I say.

Henry leans over and puts his lips on mine. My unresisting mouth opens and in an instant I feel his tongue exploring mine. “I think you’re right,” he says. “Want to try another one?”

I nod, feeling a rush of yearning in my core. “This time you feed me,” Henry says. All I can do is nod again. Henry’s penetrating eyes are hypnotizing me. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed staring at me. “You better go drink some water first,” he says. “I can’t have you getting dehydrated. We haven’t even gotten to the Champagne yet.”

I sip from my water bottle and when I’m done Henry says, “I think you should take off your panties for me.”

The way Henry is looking at me – captivated and ravenous – makes my stomach flutter. I reach under my skirt, tug on my thong, and it falls down my legs. I like undressing for Henry, I like it when he tells me what to do, and I love the arousal that comes with the thought of giving myself to him. My body is responding fast beneath his enraptured gaze. My nipples are stiff and longing to be touched, my breath quickens with anticipation, and my mind discards all thoughts except for one: I want Henry inside of me.

Henry’s eyes darken to a deeper blue as they bore into me. “You’re the most beautiful thing on earth, Sydney,” he says as his eyes slowly scan my body. “Do you have any idea how much this intimacy with you means to me?”

I smile shyly, dumbstruck by his sweetness, and equally floored by his ability to go from hardcore to tenderness from one sentence to the next.

“Turn around for me, Sydney” Henry says.

Unhurriedly, I turn, craning by neck to watch Henry over my shoulder until my back almost faces him. “How’s this?” I say.

“Perfect,” he says. “Now I want you to hike up your skirt and bend over so I can admire your hot pussy from behind.”

Part of me is blushing at his orders, but the other part of me is soaking wet. And I know wet is going to win this round.

I strain to take one better look at Henry, making sure he’s serious about this. His earnest eyes, radiating affection, admiration, and lust, lock on mine. I feel so wanted, even coveted. I’ve been close to Henry long enough to know how unserious he is about the disposable babes he sleeps with, so I recognize that with me he’s really different now.

When my back is turned completely to Henry and I can no longer see him, I leisurely raise my skirt until the hem is at the edge of my cheeks. Then, with a racing heartbeat, I begin to bend forward, arching my back, and pushing my ass out seductively as I do. As I’m bent over, aching, ready, and expecting to be taken from behind (I told you he’d choose B or D!), I hear a familiar little click and I know what it is: the camera on Henry’s iPhone.

“What are you doing, Henry?” I ask startled. I stay where I am and don’t cover up, but I feel exposed now, and not in the good sense. I feel defenseless.

“This pic is for
me
,” he says with a harsh edge in his voice, completely incompatible with everything else he’s said to me in the last few minutes, and utterly contrary to the look in his eyes.

I swallow hard, not sure why he’s bringing up a reference to Professor Sparling at this time. But I’m not particularly capable of thinking now because I’m fully uncovered and hotter than hell, and I really don’t want to ruin the moment.

Henry is now standing right there behind me. He’s breathing loudly, and though he isn’t touching me, my skin is tingling with anticipation. Then it happens: I feel him expertly slip a finger inside of me without having come in contact with any other inch of my body. “Oh God,” I yelp as hot sparks rush through my entire being.

“You feel amazing, Syd,” he says calmly moving his finger inside me, circling slowly as if he has all the time in the world to tease me, torment me, listen to me moan and plead for more. Henry pulls his finger out just as I begin to build, tells me to stand up, positions himself in front of me, and pushes his finger into my mouth. “You taste amazing, too, right?”

I can’t believe how sexy Henry is, and I can’t find any words so I nod and lean into him, tipping my head up for a kiss. Henry takes my head in his hands and rests his prodding lips against mine. My mouth opens instinctively in response and his tongue glides in to meet mine.
Oh God can this man kiss!
As Henry’s hands slip down my back and onto my bare behind, I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The kiss ends when Henry breaks away to say, “Sydney, baby, I want you so much.”

I step back and admire the way the soft light in the room picks up his blond highlights. He looks striking, and the spark of determination in his eye tells me that I have a long night of dirty fucking ahead of me. I smile, pleased with the thought.

“Don’t get all smiley on me,” Henry says. “You can’t forget you have to feed me truffles. You have to be topless, though, when you feed me chocolates. Obviously.”

Henry reaches up to my shoulders and gradually pushes the straps of my bra down my arms. I’m looking down at my breasts becoming more visible inch by inch, but Henry puts a hand under my chin and tips it up. “Don’t take your eyes off me,” he says. Then, he stares into my eyes as he runs his hands from my shoulders down to my breasts. His thumbs circle my nipples and I cry out as he pinches my left nipple and rolls it between his fingers. He runs his other hand down my middle, over the hitched up skirt and lower until his long, agile fingers are looping around my clit. With one of his hands twisting my nipple, the other rubbing around my clit, and his eyes on mine, watching my pupils expand, seeing my eyelids flutter at his touch, feeling my desperation for him … I feel possessed.

I’m whimpering and breathing heavily, reduced to mindlessness and steered only by the scorching sensations in my body. Oh Henry, I call out falling into him as my legs go limp. He stops his pleasing torture fast enough to catch me with his body and wrap his arms around me. Henry eases me over to the bed, grabs a truffle, places it in my palm and says, “I hope you didn’t forget about my dessert.” He lies down on his back, his head propped up by pillows. I straddle his middle and slip the chocolate into his mouth. The sight of his lips parting sends shivers through my body. He reaches up to caress my breasts as he rolls the candy around in his mouth, letting it dissolve slowly on his tongue. I lean forward to kiss him. “Caramel?” I ask, trying to guess the flavor of his truffle. “Mmmm,” he says. “I think so. Very sweet. But not nearly as sweet as looking up at you.” His hand is on my flower, palming it, sliding his fingers all the way back to my anus, which tightens at his touch. I’ve never been touched there before and the surprise of something new – and decadent - jolts me and makes me even wetter with anticipation. Henry massages me gently then grabs my ass and squeezes. “I love your ass, baby,” he groans.

Henry sits up quickly and slides me off the bed with him. “Now!” he demands, as if he can’t bear another minute of our erotic ride. My heart thumps and my hands reach for his waist. I feel his erection pushing against the luxurious fabric of his pants. I unzip his pants, pushing them down along with his boxer briefs and letting them both fall to his ankles. Seeing how masculine and strong he looks, I can’t stop myself from bending over, desperate to take him in my mouth and taste his power. I cup his balls and lick the length of him from the bottom up. “Oh, Sydney,” he calls out, and my body tenses at the sound of passion in his voice. He pulls me back up into a kiss, that’s as deep as an ocean. Then he reaches down to his pants and pulls a condom out of his pocket. He tears the packet open, hands me the gluey thing, and I quickly roll it over his impressive length, barely finishing before he spins my body around so my back is leaning against his chest, and his erection is pressing against me. He reaches around my right hip to place his fingers on me and –
oh my God
– in me, again. I push back onto his hand as my body aches for more and just as I do he pulls his hand out, and bends me forward onto the bed. My face and breasts rest on the fluffy duvet and my backside sticks out, bare and awaiting. Henry holds my hips. “Are you ready, baby?” he asks.

My reply is a frantic moan as I open my legs wider. Then I feel it, the blossoming ache when he fills me, splits me, grinds into me, and conquers my entire being so that all I know in this world is the rhythm of his thrusting. Henry holds onto my hips as he blazes into me deeper and faster. My muscles clench, my body stiffens, and I begin to wildly stutter Henry’s name over and over again. I’m grasping the duvet cover, clawing it, tearing at it as I lose myself to the glorious pounding inside me. I try to hold back, but there’s no escaping the throbbing tension that’s carrying me away. I’m spiraling out of control, floating away like a balloon in the sky, higher, higher, and higher until pleasure spikes and I shatter around Henry, screaming out his name. Henry tightens his grip on my hips and slams into me again, groaning loudly as he finds his release and nuzzling his face against the back of my neck before he collapses on top of me. Still throbbing, the only thing I can think is, Yes, Henry. This is definitely the best Christmas ever.

And it gets even better when Henry rolls over to face me and rubs his hand down my cheek. “That was a glorious gift,” he says. “Now it’s your turn to receive something. Please reach under the pillow.”

“You’ve already given me the clothes from
Oui
and the coat,” I say, feeling as though it would be inappropriate for him to give me anything else.

“Those are things I would have gotten for you if you were nothing more than my friend. They’re not romantic and I can’t let Christmas go by without giving you something worthy.”

Henry’s sweetness fills my heart. I reach under the weighty down pillow, both nervously and eagerly, until my fingers find a small box wrapped in what feels like a satin bow. When I pull it out, I see that I am correct – it is indeed a box with a bow, but it’s not just any old box. It’s from Tiffany. I’m astounded. “Henry,” I say softly. “I know whatever is inside this box is magnificent, but it’s too much. You shouldn’t give me something so expensive.”