My name sounds like a sin coming from his mouth, and I love it, but I’m also feeling feisty myself. “But you stopped,” I point out, and Henry laughs again, but it’s strained.
“I stopped because hearing you ask me if I’d like fucking your face almost made me come, and I’m not coming until you do. Clearly you still don’t believe me when I tell you the effect you have on me,” he says, standing up to move closer to the camera so I can see properly.
There’s a bead of pre-cum on the tip that Henry swipes with his thumb as he wraps his large hand around himself, jerking the thick length once. “I can’t wait to feel you touch me, but the thought of you enjoying it is what makes me lose it. You make me want to lose it, not anyone else,” Henry says, squeezing the head again.
“I want to see you lose control,” I say, and Henry leans back on the bed, his cock twitching as he drags his hand down it.
“Then show me how much you want to see it as you fuck your fingers pretending they’re mine. I’m not coming until you do,” he repeats, and I look away as a twinge of anxiety creeps in because what if I can’t? I mean, what if last time was a fluke? I want to see Henry, but what if—“Regarde-moi,”27 he says, interrupting my thoughts and I exhale softly, dragging my gaze back to him.
“Quoi?”28
“I don’t want you to worry about me. I want you to focus on making yourself feel good, okay?” Henry says softly, reading my mind perfectly.
“Okay,” I agree, lying back to let my hands return to their original positions.
“I’ve laid in that bed probably a hundred times thinking of you being in it,” Henry admits, and I turn in surprise as my core throbs. “Fucking figures the first time you’re coming in it is when I’m out of town,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.
“A hundred times?” I ask, wondering if maybe there’s a chance my hopes of Henry seeing me in a different light are working.
“Probably more.” He tilts his head, his cheeks flushing. I relax a little, swirling my fingers over my clit causing a spark of pleasure to jolt through me. I bite my lip as I slip my fingers back in, curling them to hit the right spot. “That’s it,mon cœur.Make yourself feel good.”
Mon cœur.I want him to call me that forever.
“You’remaking me feel good,” I correct, slowly climbing that hill again.
“Are you still using two?” he asks, and I nod, pumping them again. “Let me see them.”
I hold them out for him to see how slick they are with my arousal, and he grips himself, groaning. “Add another. Let me see how well you take them.”
I push in a third, meeting little resistance from how turned on I am, and I turn my hips to give Henry a center view. “You feel so good.” I moan, dropping my head back to let myself disappear into the pleasure.
“You’re doing great. Pinch your nipple, baby. God, I can’t wait to suck on them. I bet you’d like it if I’d bite them and kiss it better. I wonder what sound would come out of you then?”
My hips move on their own accord, chasing the high as I think of Henry doing those things.“Henry.”
“That’s it. Say my name. Tell me how much you like it when I make you feel good,” Henry says, grunting and I turn slightly to see Henry jerking himself off again. “I’m close. Tell me when, Mirabelle.”
“When,H-Henry,”I gasp out, my climax sweeping over me, but I force my eyes to stay on Henry as his head drops back in raw ecstasy. Mini earthquakes tremor through my body as I watch Henry spill himself all over his abs, and I can’t look away.
“Mira,” he gasps out my name as my breathing hitches.
This might be the most erotic thing I’ve ever done.
Henry’s throat bobs and he smiles tiredly at me through the screen. “I need a second before we talk about what you liked and didn’t like, if that’s okay?” he asks, reaching to grab a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off.
“I need to get cleaned up too,” I say, forcing my jelly legs to hold me as I walk into the bathroom to clean up before returning to Henry’s bed, this time crawling underneath the covers after flipping off the lights so the only illumination in the room is coming from the phone.
“You okay?” he asks, concern knitting his eyebrows as I hold the phone in my hands.
“I’m okay,” I answer, but I’m not sure what to say.
“What did you like?”
It feels like a dumb question when the answer is all of it. I liked all of it. “Well, for one, I never thought I’d describe a dick as a work of art, but yours deserves to be in a museum or something. You’re gorgeous,” I whisper without thinking.
Henry, thankfully, doesn’t call me a weirdo when it’s probably what I deserve. “Thanks, but I’m a little attached to it, so I don’t foresee it being in a museum anytime soon. Just remember that you’re to blame when my ego hits new heights.”
“I’m shocked your ego isn’t sky-high already when you walk around with that in your pants,” I tease, causing Henry to laugh. I think the fact that we can still laugh after phone sex is a testament to how natural a real relationship would be, but I’m aware I’m mildly delusional when it comes to Henry. “Is there normally that much talking during sex? I don’t think Reid ever said anything other than ‘suck it,’ or ‘stick it in your mouth,’ but compared to what just happened, I’m not sure if my baseline is normal.”
