“You did that to me,” I said, breaking off to gasp when he curled his finger inside me, rubbing against my G-spot. More arousal soaked his hand. “You’re so good at getting me off, Henry.”
His eyes flashed, and his finger slid from me, leaving me moaning with disappointment. Henry smirked, bringing his glistening finger to his mouth.
“My favourite flavour,” he murmured, licking and sucking my arousal from his finger. My pussy pulsed at the sight, but his eyes stayed locked on my face. “I need more of that sweet pussy, Catnip. I need it all over my face. I want to still be tasting you in the morning.”
I barely had time to react to his filthy, hot words before he was spreading my legs wider and dipping his mouth to my entrance.
“Jesus!” I panted as his tongue slipped into me, swirling and licking and devouring me. And fuck, I was so close again already, but he wasn’t going to give me any relief, not when he was enjoying himself so much.
He thrust his tongue in and out, then slipped it up to flick at my piercing, grazing my clit with his teeth until I was practically levitating off the bed, gasping and breathless and hovering on the edge of bliss.
Back and forth between my entrance and my clit, teasing me. I knew I was dripping, could feel it slipping between my cheeks and pooling on the bed beneath me—what he wasn’t drinking up, anyway.
“Henry … please!” I begged, rocking closer, desperate for the relief of orgasm.
With a grunt, he pressed his palm to my abdomen, holding medown on the bed. The weight of his hand, the feeling of being forced to stay still, the constant, wild sensation of his tongue … everywhere …
I came in a screaming, wet rush, muscles spasming with the violence of my orgasm. He continued to taste, to savour, laving gentle licks from my entrance to my over-sensitised clit and then back again, catching every pulse of arousal that leaked from me.
“Need you inside me,” I whispered, my throat scratchy from my screams. “Please, Hubby.”
“Anything you want,” he breathed, his chin dripping, eyes almost black, his glasses smeared with my orgasm. He tugged them off and tossed them onto the bedside table. He struggled out of his pyjamas, the light hitting the sculpted planes of his chest and his cock as it sprang free.
I gripped the front of his shirt, ready to pull him over me again, but he shook his head, tugging it off.
“I don’t want anything between us,” he murmured, pressing my legs apart and fitting his hips between them. “No clothes. No rules. No secrets.”
I swallowed back the pang of guilt, giving him a mute nod. And then he was notching his cock to my entrance, leaning closer and finding my mouth. I tasted myself on his tongue as he slid inside me.
Perfection. I ran my hands up his back, dragging my nails against his warm skin. His muscles moved under my fingers as he slowly filled me, pulling back, then pushing deeper again.
“That feels so good,” I whispered against the stubble on his cheek, forgetting my split second of shame in the feel of his perfect cock. “You make me feel so … oh … so fucking good, Hubby.”
A strangled sound erupted from his throat, and he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes piercing.
“When you say things like that, Catnip … I struggle not to come immediately,” he admitted roughly.
I grinned up at him. “Does someone have a teeny-weeny praise kink?”
He made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat, thrusting his hips with more force than before, and any teasing I’d planned was ripped from me with the feel of him, deep in me, hitting spots that no one else had managed.
“Perhaps I do … but only when it comes to you,” he rumbled, pulling out slowly then thrusting again. A cry tore from my throat.
“Then be my good boy and make me come again.” I needn’t have begged him; I was already climbing towards another peak as he found a rhythm and leaned in to take my mouth again.
“Let go, Ri,” he mumbled against my lips, lifting my butt and hitting me in a new way that sent lightning bolting outwards, searing my limbs as my orgasm crashed through me. I cried into his mouth, riding the pulsing waves of pleasure as his thrusts became erratic. His mouth moved frantically down my jaw, nipping at the skin just under my ear as he let go himself, filling me as he sucked a bruise into my throat.
His thrusts slowed, sweat dripping from his curls onto my chest when he pulled back to gaze down at me, flushed and panting and the most perfect person I’d ever had looming over me post-orgasm.
“Thank you …” I breathed, reaching up to smooth his damp curls away from his eyes. His expression was bewildered, which made me giggle.
“Thank you for reminding me just what that talented cock of yours can do.”
The cock in question pulsed inside me again, and I squeaked, realising how tender I was from the thorough fucking he’d just given me.
“You needed a reminder?” he asked, tugging some sweaty hair off my face and tucking it behind my ear. “Every moment of that night is etched into my memory with perfect clarity.”
“Henry …”
