Page 137 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“You can’t tell me you’ve never had a Titanic fantasy. Kate Winslet . . . boobies.”
“Boobies are great, but no fantasies there. Honestly, I just want to make love to you on this floor, right here, right now.”
“With me wrapped in a rug?”
“Not much into fucking 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 fucking 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 lips, 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 in the pit of my stomach, that wonderful, all-consuming, mind-blowing, life-altering burn.
“I love you so fucking much,” Henry whispered in my ear 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 between Henry and me, from the unbreakable connection we’d formed over the past two months.
Little moans escaped my lips, a light sheen of sweat broke out over my skin, and my toes started to curl. My impending orgasm began to slowly 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 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 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.
Resting his head on my shoulder, Henry breathed out a long sigh before lying down 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 against 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 horndogs 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.”
