“Oh, I like to hear that. No Sirs or Masters. Just ‘yes, Henry.’” He winked at her as his hand found the fly of his pants and started to work the zipper. “Show me your breasts, Nell. I’ve been thinking about them since the minute you walked into Bill’s office. You walked in and I’ve been hard ever since. I’m going to be gentle, but don’t think for a second that I haven’t been hot for you all day long.”
She let the shirt fall to the bed. He was being honest, and she would do the same. She wasn’t some teenager who didn’t understand the world. She knew how it worked. Despite her deep love of happily ever afters, she knew the most she could hope for was a happily ever now. She did kind of wish that organic cotton bras came in more attractive fashions. Hers was pretty industrial looking.
“Slowly, Nell. Take it off slowly.”
She reached around and managed to unhook it. She was deeply aware that she was awkward, but Henry didn’t seem to mind. And neither did little Henry, and by little Henry she meant big penis. He pushed aside his pants and let his cock pop free. Henry’s cock was large and gorgeous, with a beautiful bulbous head. Thick and purple, it pulsed in his hand as he stroked it up and down. His big hand gripped his dick, running from the base to the bulb as his eyes watched her.
She peeled the bra off slowly, her nipples peaking in the chilly air. She’d been naked plenty of times. Her mother loved it up here at Mountain and Valley. They came up for social hours and parties and Nell never had a single qualm about getting down to her birthday suit, but it felt different now. She felt his eyes on her. Her nipples were hard pebbles. She was going to lose her virginity. She was going to lose her heart. It suddenly hit her that she would love Henry Flanders after this, and he hadn’t promised her anything.
But nothing was certain. Nothing in the whole world. And love was worth the risk. She couldn’t know that he wanted her for anything more than a night. She could only try. She wanted him. She thought she might be able to really care about him. And if he took her without any caring, that was on him, not her.
But not trying would be on her.
She’d waited for so long, but this was the right man.
She let the bra fall away.
Henry’s sigh filled the room. “You are so fucking gorgeous, baby.”
His beautiful dark eyes were sleepy and laser focused on her breasts. She felt them like a hand caressing her. His voice was a deep rich chocolate, and she could hear the approval in it. It ran down her spine, a sweet shiver that went straight to all her girl parts.
“I think you’re lovely, too, Henry.”
A slow smile crossed his face. “You would think that.” His hand ran up and down his thick cock. “Take off your pants. I want to see your pussy.”
Her whole body flushed. How could he just talk that way? He didn’t have a single problem with dirty words. She’d always found them repulsive until they came out of his mouth in that dark voice of his. Her hands moved almost of their own volition, curving under the waist of her undies and pushing them down. She tossed them off the bed, and she was completely naked and open to Henry Flanders’s eyes.
He sighed, the sound a long, wanting brush against her body. “That’s just about perfect, baby. You shave. Why?”
“I don’t like the whole hair thing.” She frowned. She sometimes felt she was in the minority in the protesting world. She knew a couple of very smart women who could probably braid their underarm hair. She’d never seen a lack of grooming as a good protesting measure. “I know it’s weird, but I feel better like this.”
“Oh, you look better like that. If you were mine, I would have you lasered, baby. I don’t want anything between me and my pussy.” His hand just ran up and down his cock, the length of flesh hard and unrelenting. There was a pearly drop at the tip. His hand flicked over it, using it to make his strokes flow more smoothly. She responded to the sight. Her pussy seemed to pulse as though she could feel everything he was doing to his own cock.
It was wrong. She shouldn’t allow some man to tell her what she would do, but she kind of wanted to, and making the decision for herself was the very essence of feminism. She wanted to play with Henry Flanders. She understood what it meant going in, so she wasn’t fooling herself. He was here for a brief time. She could have him while he was here. She wanted any time he could give her.
Maybe it made her pathetic to be willing to take so little, but it also made her human and a woman. Women never knew what they would get going into a relationship. Women just cared and hoped for the best and, when they were really smart, forgave themselves if it all went to hell. That last part was the most important part of all. Forgiveness began at home.
“You look so serious, Nell. This is supposed to be fun.”
“It’s supposed to be sacred.”
His face fell. His hand came away from his cock. She’d said the wrong thing. Silence encroached, and she was deeply aware of just how vulnerable she was.
“You’re right,” he replied slowly. “It’s a sacred thing for a woman like you. I want to be here with you, Nell. I want it more than anything I’ve wanted in a long time, but I don’t know that I can stay here with you and I know damn well I won’t bring you into my world. I feel more for you than I’ve felt for any woman in years, but I won’t take something from you that you would rather wait to give. I’m not a good man, Nell. I’m rather awful, but I promise I’ll take care of you as long as I’m here. I won’t look at another woman. I’ll only think about you. I’ll be yours one hundred percent while I’m here.”
Could she really ask for more? He was being honest. He couldn’t stay and she couldn’t go. She had to stay with her mom. Her mother needed her. They were worlds apart, but they wanted each other. It was so much harder to be honest. He could have promised her to stay or to take her with him, but he’d been brave. He’d tried to set her expectations. He’d been a real man.
“I still want you, Henry, but I’ll be honest with you, too. I can’t go into this telling you that it won’t mean anything to me. It will. I’ll remember you always. You’ll always be my first lover.”
He stood up, and for a second she worried he would run out the door. “I won’t forget you, either, Nell. I know you might not believe me, but you’re different from the other women I’ve had. You’re meaningful. Even when I leave, you should know that I won’t forget you. All you have to do is tell Bill you need me and I’ll come back. I meant what I said. I’ll take care of you, Nell. If you give yourself to me tonight, it means something. It is sacred.”
She couldn’t ask for more than that. “I would like to be with you, Henry. For however long you choose to stay.”
His skin flushed, the first real palpable emotion she’d seen in him. He moved toward her, the most serious look on his face. “I’ll stay as long as I can. I want you to believe that. I really want you, Nell. I think I need you.”
For the first time since they’d begun, she was the aggressor. She put her hand out, grasping his, pulling him toward her. She was going to be with Henry Flanders tonight. She was going to be his lover. “Come and kiss me, please, Henry.”
He needed the politeness. She could see that now. She’d handled him all wrong. People needed different things, and it was wrong to withhold them. Henry needed to be needed. He craved it like a flower needed sunshine. And Nell needed to give. She gave so much, but often to people who didn’t want her there. What would it feel like to give to someone who truly wanted her?
Henry stared at her like she was some indecipherable mystery, but his knee met the bed and his hands found her skin. Warmth spread across her as he filled the space between them. He took her into his arms.
“You’re screwing up all my plans, Nell.” He said the words, but she could feel a smile spread across his lips as he kissed her cheek.
“I don’t mean to.” She didn’t mean to screw up anything, but she really liked the way his arms curled around her. It felt like caring and protection. It utterly disarmed her. She had nothing
to put up between them, no arguments, no talk. What could she say to him besides the obvious?
His forehead nestled against hers. “You might not mean to, but you’re the sweetest bundle of chaos I’ve ever come across. You’re like Pandora. I can’t fucking resist you. I think you might be my downfall.”
His hands came up and cupped her breasts and she couldn’t breathe, much less respond. And, quite frankly, she’d always appreciated the Pandora myth. In Greek mythology, Pandora had been the first woman, their Eve. She’d been the one to bring strife into the world, but also she’d been the one to save hope. Humans were nothing without some struggle. Humans fought and overcame and won. There was nothing without a fight.
Love was a fight. Love was something to work for. She wasn’t as naïve as everyone thought she was. She knew that even with a little luck, real love took work.
She wouldn’t get that from Henry. He would leave, but she could have connection, a momentary bond that could prove that love might happen to her someday. And even if it didn’t, she would know what it felt like because she thought she just might love Henry Flanders and that was a beautiful thing.
His lips found hers. She didn’t hesitate this time. She flowered open beneath him. She let him in, his tongue surging past her lips to find synchronicity with hers. His tongue rubbed, lighting her up. His mouth slanted over hers, his hands twisting her body in a sweetly bossy way.
Her nipples brushed against the light dusting of hair on his muscular chest. They flared, pointing out and becoming ridiculously sensitive. Every touch of his flesh seemed to run along her skin. He pulled her close, sweeping the space between them away, closing all distance. The slightly distracted man he’d been was gone, and now he seemed fully in the moment with her. All doubt washed away. This felt right.
She let her hands wander. He was a deliciously masculine playground. He had muscle after muscle, each one encased in smooth, perfect flesh. She explored his shoulders, so broad and straight. His arms curved, flowing from hard biceps into perfectly curved forearms. His chest was a marvel. He was a mystery, and she so wanted to solve him. She allowed her fingertips to brush his perfectly tight abs.
“Lower, Nell. Touch me.” Henry’s voice sounded slightly strangled. He took off his glasses and tossed them to the side.
He wanted her to touch his penis. She’d sort of kind of touched one before. Well, she’d felt one with undies between them, but she didn’t hesitate. Her hand knew just where it wanted to go. She stroked down his stomach to his penis.
“Touch my cock, Nell.”
His cock. He wasn’t polite. He didn’t just sit there and hope she did what he wanted. There was a sort of joy in that. She knew exactly what he wanted. She looked down between their bodies. His penis—his cock—was standing at attention, practically begging for a pet. Yes, she could please him. She could be enough for him. She let her palm enclose that big cock of his. So hard and yet so soft. Like the man.
“Fuck, that’s it. That feels good, Nell. Yeah. Stroke me.”
The deep timbre of his voice spurred her on. She liked this whole “talking during affection” thing. Before it had been awkward. She hadn’t known where to kiss or touch and she’d just kind of lain back and hoped for the best, but Henry told her what he wanted. He kind of demanded it, and she was happy to comply.
He’d spanked her and ordered her to undress, and he’d fought for her.
She knew it was wrong, but it felt right.
She stroked his cock, her fingers fumbling. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
His face was a mask of arousal. “You won’t hurt me. A cock is solidly built, baby. Stroke me hard. Be rough. I’ll like it. I’m going to be a little rough with you. Not tonight, but later. Later, I’m going to play hard, Nell, but I promise I’ll make you like it. I’ll make you fucking crave it.”
She already craved him, and she hadn’t really had him yet. She gripped his cock harder, but even flexing her hand, she barely managed to close her palm around him.
He hissed slightly. “That’s it. Stroke me. Get me hard and ready to fuck.”
He seemed really hard. She wasn’t sure how much harder he could get, but she was game to try. She let her hand run the full, long length of his cock. She had zero real experience, but he was so lovely. She stared at the cock in her hand, studying it with eager eyes. Numerous anatomy classes hadn’t prepared her for just how pretty it was. A long purple vein throbbed under her palm. He was neatly trimmed, just a hint of hair that led down to his balls. Perfect round globes that sat tight against his body. He was perfect in every way.
“Lie back on the bed and spread your legs for me, Nell.” His voice had taken on that sweet, bossy tone she’d come to associate with his sexual arousal. And his protectiveness. They seemed to go hand in hand.
She let go of his cock. When he got that tone of voice, he meant business. It was the mistake she’d made at her cabin. She hadn’t handled him properly. She could see that now. Henry needed to be in charge of certain things, and when he wasn’t allowed to be, he struggled. He’d wanted to protect her, and she’d chosen to defer to the men she knew. At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do, but Rye Harper had never picked her up and carried her down a hall. He’d never tossed her on a bed and demanded she undress.
She owed something to her lover, no matter how long she’d known him.
It took every ounce of bravery she had, but she spread her legs and let him see her core.
His hands found her ankles, brushing restlessly against them. His chest let loose a long, happy sigh as he stared right at that part of her that seemed to start so many political debates.
“Damn, you’re lovely.” He pressed on her ankles, pushing them up so her knees fell apart and she was fully on display. “I don’t understand how you could possibly be a virgin. How can no man have claimed this?”
“I didn’t want anyone until you.” She wouldn’t hide from him.
“I’m glad, baby.” His hands started a long, slow crawl up her legs, warming her skin everywhere he touched. “Tell me what you’ve done. You’ve kissed, right?”
Not like he kissed her, but she had done something that could be called kissing. “Yes.”
His hands were on her knees, moving to her thighs. “Had you ever touched a cock before? Ever taken one in your mouth?”
Henry liked to talk a lot. He hadn’t seemed that way earlier. When they were in the car, he’d allowed her to talk the whole time. At dinner, he’d interjected a comment here or there, but for the most part, he’d kept her talking. Now he seemed to really want to talk. “No. I mean, I touched one through clothes, but I certainly didn’t do the mouth thing.”
A sexy smile curled up his lips. “I went too far, didn’t I? I went straight from kissing to oral sex. How about second base?”
She shook her head. “Oh, I didn’t play softball. I wasn’t very big into sports.”
A laugh came out of his mouth, and she finally got to see a brilliant smile on his face. It made him younger, lighter, so much more dangerous. His hands came out, and his fingertips lightly brushed her nipples. “I was talking about your breasts, Nell. Have you had a man play with your breasts?”
She felt a grimace cross her face. “Just some groping in college, and I didn’t really like it. He pinched me.”
He moved on the bed, shifting and getting behind her. “Move between my legs.”
Nell felt awkward, but she did as he asked, allowing him to get behind her so his back was to the headboard. She scooted back, not quite sure what he was doing. His arms came out, drawing her toward him so her back was cradled against his chest, his legs surrounding hers. She was suddenly completely wrapped in strong arms and legs, the intimacy piercing in its sweetness. He’d meant what he’d said. He was going to take care of her. She’d spread herself open for him, given him every indication that she was ready for sex, but he hadn’t just jumped on top of her. He was giving her real intimacy. He was making it special.
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He pushed her hair to the side and kissed the nape of her neck, causing her to shiver. “I want to play with your breasts. I want to show you how much I like them, how important they are.”
“I don’t think they’re very sensitive.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” His big hands came up and cupped her breasts. “Your breasts are like all the other parts of your gorgeous body. They need attention.”
His palms moved across her breasts, not groping or grasping but touching and stimulating. She couldn’t help the gasp that came from her chest. His fingers played on her nipples, little touches that made her squirm and then long, gentle squeezes. All the while, his lips played at her neck, kissing and licking. She could feel his erection against the small of her back. He was so hard, but he kept playing with her, making her hot. His ankles caught hers, spreading her legs.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Nell.” He breathed the words against her throat.
“I’m not thinking.” She wasn’t thinking at all. She wasn’t formulating arguments in her head or going through all the things she needed to do. She was just feeling.
“That’s what I want to hear.” His fingers twisted on her nipples.
Nell gasped. Pain flared but it quickly turned to heat that coursed through her veins and made a direct line to her pussy. Her legs moved restlessly against his.
“I think you’re beginning to understand. This is supposed to be good for you. I can make this very good for you.”
It felt really good. It felt spectacular. “Yes, Henry.”
“Trust me, Nell. Put yourself in my care. Let me take care of you.” He pinched her nipples again, his lips on her ear. “Submit to me. Just here in the bedroom. Submit. Tell me I’m the Master here.”
He really was the master. “Yes, Henry.”