“What are you doing?”
Henry frowned at me as we stood on the sidewalk outside my apartment building. “Coming up with you.”
The Town Car drove smoothly away. A trickle of fear, anxiety, and nerves mixed with the need to throw myself at Henry, to seek comfort in him with the added benefit of taking what Penelope Lexington didn’t want me to have.
Yet my anxiety and self-derision were stronger in that moment, and after all the time I’d spent fighting to feel good about myself, self-directed anger started to brew. Because I should have listened to Joe.
And since I couldn’t take it out on myself, I knew I’d take it out on Henry.
“Just go.” I gestured toward the departing car. “Call him back.” Turning on my heel, I climbed up the stairs to my door.
He climbed up the stairs right behind me.
My blood turned hot; agitation made me want to curl my toes inside my shoes, and the feelings stirring inside of me were so overwhelming, my hands shook as I tried to get the key in the door.
A small sigh sounded at my ear and suddenly his hands covered mine, pulling the keys out of my hold. I immediately stepped back, watching in mounting irritation as he let us into the building.
I tensed as he put his hand on my back, guiding me upstairs.
My throat felt hot, tight, swollen with words that I was trying to choke down. Hurtful words, hateful words. Words that would make him feel as badly as I was feeling.
“I told you to leave,” I bit out, trying to stop him from coming into the apartment.
But looking up into his face, I could see I wasn’t the only one struggling to hold on to a temper. Henry pushed inside, locking the door behind me, and I suddenly hated him for forcing me into this confrontation.
“I need to apologize,” he said to my back as I hurried into my sitting room. My shoulders hunched to my neck at the words. I couldn’t look at him.
What did he want me to say? That it was okay?
Because it wasn’t.
No one, no matter what, should have to be subjected to what that woman said to me.
Henry’s mother!
He was in Cloud Cuckoo Land if he thought this, whatever this was between us, could ever work out when his mother thought so little of me.
“Just go,” I snapped, not looking at him.
“No,” he said, his tone stern. “Not until you turn around and look at me.”
I shot him a glare over my shoulder. “Satisfied? Now leave.”
Instead of leaving, he studied my face, softening as if he understood what was going on behind my fury.
But he didn’t understand.
“I cannot apologize enough for what my mother said to you. Frankly, right now I’m ashamed I share DNA with the woman. That was the reason I was avoiding her. She’s… bad with the women I date normally, even the ones she’s set me up with. No one is good enough. Usually, it’s merely irritating, but I didn’t want to subject you to her. And if I had known how goddamn low she’d sink tonight, I never would’ve put you in that situation.”
I heard his words, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel the anger and worry in them that I’d later remember. In that moment, all I saw were the flowers peeking over the top of the trash can behind him. Flowers that had arrived at my apartment earlier that afternoon. Flowers that meant he’d found my home address. Flowers that taunted me, saying, “You can’t be angry at Penelope Lexington when you know she’d feel smug with satisfaction if she ever discovered the truth.” She’d feel vindicated in her opinion of me.
Worse would be how Henry would react if he knew the truth. How he’d never look at me the same way again. He’d never look at me in that way that was getting under my skin, becoming an addiction, despite all the defenses I’d tried to put up against him.
A chill shivered down my spine.
“Nadia, what can I do? What—”
“If you’re not going to leave,” I turned around to fully face him, “then we might as well get this over with.”
Henry watched with narrowed eyes as I threw my purse on the couch and then removed my earrings. “What are you doing?”
Cold, toneless, I reminded him, “Our arrangement is almost over. A deal is a deal.”
“A deal is a deal?” The muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes flashing. “You’re going to fuck me like some martyr?”
“Well, I’d prefer it if you leave but I don’t welch on a deal.”
“Nadia, don’t hide from me.” I could hear the barely contained fury beneath his words and in a twisted way, I reveled in it. I wanted his anger. I wanted to force him to walk away and walk away for good. “Talk to me.”
I scoffed. “Why do you keep trying to make this more than it is? You wanted to slum it with the local weather girl. I wanted to get laid because it’s been a while. You just happened to be there and I’ve heard you’re good. That’s all this ever was. And I’m not one of your uptight society princesses who needs to be assured you want more from me than a dirty fuck.”
“Nadia…”
I didn’t heed the growl of warning in his voice. “Let me make it clearer,” I hissed out, all my rage at myself redirected at him like I knew and feared would happen. “I don’t do relationships with spoiled rich boys who run away from their mommas. I’ll let a rich boy fuck me for the hell of it, but rest assured when I do let someone in long-term, it’ll be a man.”
Not even a second later, Henry crossed the distance between us, one hand tangling into my pinned-up hair, the other around my waist. He yanked me roughly against him before I could blink and slammed his mouth down over mine in a hard, punishing kiss.
And the war that was raging inside of me blazed outward as I pushed my hands against his chest, trying to get away, while my tongue danced with his with no thought to stopping. It wasn’t a dream kiss, soft, sensual, seductive. It was harsh, wet, fast, breathless, just two mouths, two tongues, base need.
Arousal roared through me. I’d never been more aware of my body in my entire life. My breasts were so swollen, so sensitive, it was a pleasure pain. My nipples hard, chafing against the lace of the bra I wore. The tingles between my legs were filled with such heat, the feeling almost burned, like flames and champagne fizz mixed together. Pain winced across my scalp, but knowing it was Henry’s hand tangling tighter through my hair to pull me closer was erotic and thrilling. His other hand, his fingers, bruised my hip he clung to me so hard, forcing me against his body.
And causing the tingles to travel deep low in my belly, pleasure rippling, dampening my underwear with wet heat, was the feel of Henry’s erection digging into my stomach. Suddenly I wasn’t pushing him away anymore but curling my fingers into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and rocking my hips into him.
Our harsh breathing filled my apartment as he broke the punishing kiss to glower at me in barely leashed enraged lust.
My heart raced, fearing he was going to walk away.
What a mass of confusion I was.
Quite abruptly, he pushed me backward and my dress got caught beneath my feet, tripping me. I stumbled against the wall and Henry was on me, pinning me there. His eyes never left mine and I could only stare up at him, panting, expecting, vulnerable and no longer caring because the calls of my body were louder than the calls of my fears.
Our eyes locked, our hot breaths whispering over one another’s lips. My breasts heaved against his chest as he pressed into me. His hands smoothed lightly down my waist and goosebumps woke up along the curves of my chest as I swelled into him.
And then his hands stopped on the sides of my thighs, his fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. He pulled, bunching it, and cool air drifted over my legs, over my thighs, until it was gathered around my waist.
My breath stuttered as he pushed my legs apart with his feet and put his free hand on the inside of my left thigh. Not once did he break eye contact. I trembled, feeling like I was going to combust if he didn’t do something soon. My body jerked as his fingers slipped beneath my underwear and slid easily inside me.
Henry’s eyes darkened at finding me so wet, his features tightening… and then it snapped whatever control he’d forced over himself in the last few minutes. He pulled back, my dress dropping to the floor again, and I trembled harder, staring into his eyes as he ripped off his tuxedo jacket. “Lift your dress,” he demanded as he threw his jacket away.
I fumbled for the skirts, my knees shaking. He stepped back into me, his dress shoes hard and cold against my bare feet as he forced my legs even further apart. His hand gripped under my thigh, jerking my leg up around his hip, while the other unzipped his tuxedo pants.
I gasped at the heat of him throbbing between my legs and watched his blue eyes turn black just before he thrust into me. It burned a little, hurt. He was thick, bigger than I was anticipating. I’d never felt so full, overwhelmed.
But the discomfort melted, replaced with pleasure that tingled down my spine, through my legs, rippling in my belly as he slid out and then pumped back into me.
Our breaths puffed against each other’s lips and I gripped his waist, urging him closer, harder. I wanted more. Everything. Now. I wanted to come. I didn’t want seduction. I wanted him to shatter me. Immediately.
As if he felt my urgency or shared it, Henry picked up his pace. My head flew back against the wall, his bent, buried in my neck, breaking our eye contact.
And he fucked me.
There was no other word for it. It was hard, fast, angry.
It took barely any time for the tension inside of me to spiral higher, higher toward the cliff edge. Then suddenly I was at the peak, and with one more hard drive into me, he pushed me over the top and I was flying and exploding at the same time.
A cry, almost a scream, tore out of me as my eyes rolled back inside my head. I’d never experienced anything like it—wave after wave of deep, hard pleasure rolling through me. And each strong ripple clenched around Henry’s dick, the sensation goddamn glorious.
His long, guttural groan sounded in my ear and his grip on my thigh tightened to biting and painful as he came. His hips jerked against me as his wet heat released inside of me.
Our harsh breathing seemed to echo around the room as Henry slumped into me. He let go of my thigh and my muscles were too loose, too languid to hold it up. My leg dropped heavily to the floor, my skirts held up only by Henry’s body against mine.
As my heart beat fast against my ribs, reality began to sink in, and he throbbed inside of me.
Inside of me.
A thought brought a shower of cold over me.
We hadn’t used a condom. I was on the pill but that didn’t mean we shouldn’t have used a condom, especially considering how many women this man had slept with!
“Henry…” I pushed against him.
He reluctantly lifted his head from my shoulder and stared at me, looking somewhat shell shocked.
“We didn’t use a condom.”
It took a minute for my words to sink in. “You’re not on the pill?”
“I am,” I hurried to assure him. “But we should have used protection.”
The fact that we didn’t shocked the hell out of me. I’d never been so consumed with desire before that I’d forgotten about something as important as the condom.
Relief lit up his eyes. “I’m clean.” He squeezed my waist. “I’m clean.”
“You know for sure?”
“I get tested every three months. My last check was two days before we met. I haven’t been with anyone since we met.”
I let out a shaky breath, my own relief great. “I’m clean too.”
His answer was to kiss me. Softly, sweetly. A complete contrast to the angry sex we’d had.
Guilt suffused me. “Henry.”
“God,” he groaned, grinding against me. “I love when you say my name.”
My breath stuttered, surprise trembling through me as the pleasure started to wave through my lower belly again. Already. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
His eyes locked to mine like he was trying to see down into the depths of my soul. “I take it that means you’ve stopped being pissed?”
“Have you?”
He grinned. “I just came harder than I’ve come in my life. What do you think?”
I laughed. “Men are so easy.”
“Oh, I’m a man again, am I?” he teased.
“I said I was sorry.” I stroked my fingers over his lips, feeling the sudden need to touch and taste him everywhere. “I promised you all night,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with renewed lust. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”
“I will.” He kissed me, his tongue flicking lightly against mine before he pulled back. “But my turn first. I’m going to kiss and suck and lick every inch of you.” His eyes dropped to my breasts and I gasped as he cupped them in his hands and squeezed none too gently. “Starting with these.” He kissed the tops, dipping his tongue into my cleavage and making me clench around his cock that was growing harder inside of me. “You have no idea how many masturbatory fantasies I have had about your gorgeous tits.”
I arched into his hands. “Henry,” I pleaded.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” Quite abruptly, he pulled out of me and wet came with him. He shoved a hand between my legs to feel his cum on me and I swear to God, I’ve never seen a man looked so turned on in my life as he rubbed his seed against my clit.
My fingers bit into his arms. “What are you doing?” I panted.
He didn’t answer but locked eyes with me, watching me gasp and squirm as he plunged two thick fingers in and out of me while he rubbed my clit with his thumb.
Although my orgasm was slower in coming this time, it wasn’t as harsh. It was sweeter, slower, more languorous.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Henry kissed me softly as my skirts fell back to the floor.
Instead of answering, I kissed back, harder, wrapping my arms around his neck so I could feel every inch of him against me. This time our kiss was like a dream kiss—slow, sensual, arousing. I gave everything over to that kiss. I made it the best goddamn kiss I’d ever given. Because if tonight was all we had, I was going to make the most of it.