The Randy Romance Novelist(4)
“With me wrapped in a rug?” I asked. I felt disgust on my face.
“Not much into f*cking rugs, so you’re going to have to ditch the threads, love.”
Without giving me an option, Henry grabbed the rug, unraveled me, and tossed it to the side. His hand wrapped around my neck, pulling me into him, where he lowered me gently onto the cold hardwood floor. My back lifted off the ground for a short second before it became accustomed to the temperature.
“You’re so f*cking beautiful; do you know that?” Henry asked, staring me in the eyes. “Every day, I wake up with you in my arms, thanking whoever wants to listen for letting you be mine.”
I was speechless as he cupped my face and slowly entered me, one inch at a time. Taking a deep breath, I adjusted to his size and waited for him to start moving, but he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me, deeply, as if he was starving for my kisses, completely desperate for them. His fingers caressed my cheeks while my hardened nipples danced with his bare chest. The friction only intensified the burn that was starting to build up in the pit of my stomach, that wonderful, all consuming, mind-blowing, life-altering burn.
“I love you so f*cking much,” Henry whispered in my ear, just as he worked his hips, thrusting in and out of me.
My heart felt like it was about to rip out of my chest from the intimacy beaming between Henry and me, from the unbreakable connection we’d formed over the past two months.
Little moans escaped from my lips, a light sheen of sweat broke out over my skin, and my toes started to curl. My impending orgasm started to slowly prepare to rip through my body.
“Fuck,” Henry said in a husky tone, straight into my ear, sending another bout of chills down my body. “You make me lose control.”
Pumping harder, Henry continued to kiss up and down my neck, his body hovering just slightly above mine. I watched his arms flex with his movements, marveling in the way his hard body tightened with each thrust.
“Love, are you going to come? Tell me you’re right there with me. I want to hear you scream my name when I come inside of you.”
Dirty talk pretty much did it for me.
Instead of answering, my eyes immediately closed as my orgasm tore through my body, from the bottom of my toes to the top of my head, pure and utter satisfaction collided in my very core, sending my brain into a fit of black. From a distance, I could hear Henry call out my name in undeniable ecstasy.
There was nothing I enjoyed more than hearing Henry say my name in the throes of passion. I knew he was in love with me, that I was his girl, but there was something about having sex with the love of my life, and pleasing him to the point of completion that put a smile on my face.
I did that; I was able to turn on this sexy man to the point that he lost all self-control.
Sex to me wasn’t just about poking each other with private parts, trying to see who could seek out an orgasm first. Sex, to me, was a moment in time where I could truly share the same space, the same air, with the one person I would bet my entire life on. And, let’s be honest, having my clit scream its little four-inch head off—yes, four inches long—was always a bonus.
Resting his head on my shoulder, Henry breathed out a long sigh before lying down on the floor next to me and cradling my body into his. “See, nothing wrong with missionary, love.”
“I guess not,” I laughed into his shoulder.
His hands lightly ran across my skin as he spoke. “As much as I want to just stay here with you all night, Delaney and Derk are coming over, so we should be good hosts and put some clothes on.”
I was about to answer when our front door opened and Delaney’s voice rang through our apartment. “Hey, hooker, I brought margarita mix; you better have tequila.”
“Shit,” Henry breathed, quickly lifting us both up off the floor.
“Ugh, are you two doing it?” Delaney called out, her voice now booming through the bedroom door.
I was just quick enough to grab the rug that’d once cocooned me off the floor to drape over my body and stand in front of Henry before Delaney walked in. She had zero personal space awareness.
Shaking her head and pointing at our naked bodies, barely covered by a rug, she said, “Should have known. You horn dogs are at it again. The first time was cute when I walked in, Rosie with her pink nipples in the air, shining for all the street youths to see, but the twentieth time is starting to get old.” Delaney looked over at the office chair and then back at us. “Did you try The Titanic?”
Shifting in place, I nodded my head. “Yeah, didn’t work very well.”
“Did Henry plant his feet? That’s important, you have to plant your feet.”
“My feet were planted!” Henry answered, exasperated, hands in the air.
Glancing down, Delaney surveyed Henry’s legs. “Hmm, your calves actually are kind of small. I never noticed that. Derk has some pretty strong calves, so I think that’s why he was so successful.”
“You were able to do The Titanic?” I asked with jealousy.
Delaney leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed. “Of course, it was simple. I Kate Winsleted Derk’s penis like it was my job. And when I came, I screamed, ‘I’m flying.’ It was a raw and emotional moment.”
Derk came jogging up behind Delaney, breathing heavily with an annoyed look on his face. “Seriously, babe, what is your obsession with catching them in the middle of having sex?” Derk took in the scene and shook his head.