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Suddenly I’m rolling onto my back, my grip of Henry lost as he fits himself between my legs, resting his elbows on either side of my pillow to cage me in with his arms. I inhale that heavenly cologne as he fits his face into the crook of my neck to lay a trail of kisses along my jawline.
This is the Henry Wolf of the early days. The seemingly cold, volatile rich bastard who intimidated me like no one else, who took me where and when he wanted, with no apologies but full of passion.
He’s going to punish me for what he just saw, but in a way that I’ll enjoy.
Henry latches on to my favorite spot halfway down my neck, his tongue stroking back and forth, his teeth grazing occasionally.
“Kiss me right now,” Henry whispers, but he doesn’t wait for me to act before his fingers weave through my hair and he guides my mouth to his, to deliver a surprisingly hot and hard kiss.
“Every square inch of this body is mine and only mine from this day forward, you understand?” “Every square inch. Yours and only yours.” I run the tip of my tongue over the outside curve of his ear, and feel him shudder beneath me. “I love you more than you could possibly ever understand.”
But I prefer you just like this.” My hot-blooded, foul-mouthed, depraved man who knows how to make me feel like no one else. Who has shown me a kind of love that I can’t live without.
