Page 65 of Unpacking Secrets
“You shouldn’t start something if you don’t intend to finish it,” I warned, then covered his lips with my own.
Henry’s hands gripped my hips as I rocked just enough to coax a groan from his throat. Once I released his mouth to raise a brow in challenge, he grinned and rolled us so his long body was stretched over me.
“Oh, I plan to finish it,” he promised, reaching for a condom from the drawer in his nightstand before settling back beside me.
His lips trailed over my skin, gossamer light, finally closing over one peaked nipple as he sank two fingers inside me.
“Henry,” I gasped, needing more.
Needing him.
“Juliet,” he murmured into the crook of my neck, then his fingers moved away, circling my clit one final time before his hips took the place of his hand and he thrust home.
My head fell back on a sigh. Every movement was dreamlike, slow and drowsy in a way that made me feel like we were still only half-awake. The pace he set matched that sleepy haze around us, unhurried even when the depth and stretch of him filling me over and over again had me whimpering into his kiss, shifting my hips to spur him on.
He held out, resisting my attempts as amusement sparked in his eyes. Finally, when I was ready to beg, he nipped at my lower lip and lifted my knee higher, stroking deep inside.
I moaned, arching into every thrust. He rolled my nipple between his fingers until I clenched around his cock, then his hoarse groan melded with mine and he dropped his hand between us, circling his thumb at that same lazy pace.
God, those hands.
The orgasm crashed over me without warning, tightening every muscle in my body until Henry swore aloud and his thrusts grew frantic, each one prolonging the waves of my release. Then, with my name on his lips, he growled into my neck and shuddered through his own while I clung to him with all four of my limbs.
Time became irrelevant when I was with him. I had no idea how many meals we might've missed, whether days had passed or only hours. This boneless contentment was entirely foreign to me—and I was fairly certain I could get used to it without any trouble at all.
At some point later in the morning, I was vaguely aware that Henry had slipped out of bed to let Blue out and give the dog breakfast, but once he was back at my side, I was altogether happy to forget everything but him.
“I think you might be a bad influence,” I said at one point.
He merely smirked in response and countered, “I think maybe you’re the bad influence.”
“Interesting theory.”
It sent an odd thrill through me, realizing that I was having the same intoxicating effect on him that he had on me.
“Since you’ve clearly proven that your knee has recovered,” Henry said with a grin, “I wondered if you wanted to go see my actual favorite place today?”
“Is it as interesting as this?” I asked, pretending to consider as I paused in my exploration of the planes of his chest to lift a brow.
When I remembered he’d mentioned bringing my camera and sketchbook, all pretense evaporated.
“Yes, I do want to see it,” I said eagerly. “Can we stop at the cottage for my stuff?”
Henry grinned at my excitement and kissed me once more before answering.
“Of course. I’ll drop Blue off with Mark while you get dressed.” His eyes landed on where my blouse lay draped over a lampshade. “Assuming you can find all of your clothes.”
While he threw on jeans and a fresh tee, I rose to the challenge, searching the room for undergarments that had been hastily discarded the night before. Henry was gone and back by the time I came downstairs, my clothes rumpled enough that his eyes heated. He handed me a sandwich, which I scarfed down in record time.
I lifted my chin when his broad, knowing smirk sent heat to my cheeks. “What? I worked up an appetite,” I said primly.
He only shook his head and kept on grinning at me as we left the house.
When we reached the cottage, I changed into clean clothes, then shoved my camera and sketchbook into my backpack. After a bare second of hesitation, I discreetly added another change of clothes to the bag, just in case, while Henry checked the backyard again.
I tossed the backpack over my shoulder and returned to the kitchen, watching him through the window. The day was still and silent, without a trace of anything—or anyone—near the cottage.
He smiled at me when he came back in. “Ready to roll?”
