“The marks on your knuckles would disagree.”
“Anyone can have physical strength. There are no gyms for emotional strength. That comes from within. Often built in dark, lonely rooms, where people like you and me spend far too much time alone, reading books or contemplating the meaning of life.”
“You contemplate the meaning of life?” I laid a look of disbelief on him.
“I contemplate a lot of things. Like right now, I’m contemplating how I can make you feel better without touching you, even though I want to trail my fingers all over your skin to make you forget everything that happened, so the only memory you have of this night is the way I made you feel using nothing but my hands. But I can’t do that, because someone else just violated your body, and I’m not about to do the same unless you tell me to.”
A new warmth I didn’t want to control spread over me. “And if I tell you to?”
“I’ll make sure you remember tonight for all the right reasons.”
The very idea of him touching me in any capacity set my heart racing at a dangerous pace. I brought a hand up to his handsome face, never taking my eyes off his as I pushed it through the side of his hair, just the way I’d imagined doing ever since I first laid eyes on him. It felt so soft through my fingers, and Henry’s mouth pressed into a flat line as he swallowed whatever emotion he didn’t want me to see.
We both knew what point we’d reached, and all it was going to take was for one of us to make that very first move, so I roseup on my toes, slid my hand down to his neck, and pulled his forehead down to rest against mine.
“I want you to touch me, Henry,” I whispered. “I want you to make me think of nothing but you for the rest of my days here.”
Our breaths met, the closest we’d ever been, and my body rippled with tension as I waited for his answer.
Henry’s hands found my waist, and within the blink of an eye, he’d spun me around in his arms until my back was flush against his chest, making my hand fall to his strong forearm as he tugged me harder against him.
So hard, I could feel the effect my words had had on him.
He was rock solid beneath his pants, and the feel of it pressed against me had me hitching in a breath.
Henry’s mouth came down to my exposed neck, and he brushed it over the pulse point there, never once kissing my skin, only teasing with those lips of his, making me ache for his touch until it became almost a physical pain in the very pit of my stomach.
“Look out at the ocean,” he ordered quietly as he ran his hands over my stomach, scrunching the material in his grip as though he wanted to tear it from my body in one swift motion. “Think of nothing but what you see in front of you and how my touch feels.”
I was already panting, and he’d barely even started.
“Forget everything but us, Phoebe.”
“Us…”
“Us,” he sighed. “Tell me where I can touch you.”
“Everywhere,” I breathed.
I felt his small, satisfied smile against my neck as he brought one hand up to my breast, and he squeezed it with the perfect amount of pressure, making a small moan climb up my throat. Before long, that hand dipped beneath the low neckline of my dress until his rough palm met my hard nipple, and when herolled it between his finger and thumb, playing with it to the point of a beautiful pain I’d never felt before, I almost lost myself completely.
This.
This is what I’ve been waiting for.
“Your wound up so tight,” he murmured.
“I… I…” Oh, God, I couldn’t speak.
“You like how that feels, don’t you?”
A feeble nod and a breathless whimper were my only responses.
Henry huffed out his amusement, but it was soon followed by an appreciative moan that almost did as much to me as his hands.
My thighs pressed together without instruction while my nipples drowned in the bliss he offered. I pushed my arse back into him, desperate to feel some sort of friction down there from any part of his body, but with one twist of my nipple, my head fell back against his chest with a thud, and I closed my eyes, thinking of only him and his touch.
Of how strong he felt.
