Page 32 of Entangled
“It’s already mem—”
“Going forward, you’ll compare every dick to mine, so I’m gonna make damn sure you don’t forget me. Let me show you how it feels to fuck a real man instead of a toy.” With his pants down around his ankles, he shuffle-carries me across the room, then settles on one of the kitchen chairs. The nightgown is still bunched around my waist. “Ride me, Princess.”
Being this close, face to face with my arms and legs wrapped around him and his hands tangled in my hair, feels like home. The comfort I’ve never experienced but spent years aching for. In Henry’s arms I’m not a weird, lonely recluse; I’m accepted. Maybe even cared for.
He kisses my neck and shoulders while I ease down onto his cock. Tightening his arms around me, he whispers, “That’s it. Take your time and do what feels good.”
I roll my hips, riding him in a slow grind. It doesn’t hurt anymore, even though he fills me more deeply than I could’ve imagined. But it’s the way his eyes lock with mine, like he can see into my soul, that unravels me.
It’s comforting to feel another person’s warmth and hear their breaths. To be held. That’s the thing about vibrators—they don’t hug you back. This is what I’ve been missing during all my years of solitude. Intimacy. Connection. I blink back the tears threatening to fill my eyes. Now isn’t the time for crying. I don’t want to waste a single second of this closeness.
Reaching between us, Henry massages my clit, making my hips jerk. “You like that?”
“Yes.” I gasp and cling to him.
He slides his other hand to my ass and gives it a squeeze before pulling me deeper into his lap. He rolls his hips, lazily rocking them to meet my downward thrusts. “You feel so good, Rowan.” His moans reignite me as he digs his fingertips into my ass cheeks and picks up his pace. “So fucking good.”
“I want more. I’m ready for the hurricane.”
15
HENRY
Mood Music: “Blow” by Ed Sheeran, Chris Stapleton, & Bruno Mars
She’s notready for a hurricane.
I kiss Rowan slow and deep before pulling back to meet her gaze. “How about a compromise?”
“What do you mean?” Her legs tremble on either side of me from the way I’m rubbing her clit.
I can tell she’s getting close, and I can’t wait to watch her fall apart again.
“Let’s start with a tropical storm.” I rise, lifting her with me, and pivot to face the kitchen table. “We can work our way up to a hurricane.” Without pulling out, I set her on the edge and stand between her legs. “Lie back for me.”
She follows my order and drags her nightgown and bodysuit up to show more skin.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Gripping behind her thighs, I thrust at a leisurely pace. She’s wet, but tight. As much as I want to fuck her into next week, I need to control myself. She’s not ready for that.
Yet.
I still can’t believe she didn’t tell me she was a virgin. I would never have slammed into her so hard. I hope I didn’t hurt her. I focus on her face, watching for any signs of discomfort.
The sheer bliss transforming her features tells me she’s fine now, but I need verbal confirmation.
“Rowan, look at me.” Her eyes meet mine. “Is this too much?”
“Not enough,” she says on a moan, wrapping her legs tighter around me. “Please go harder.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She taps my hand that’s still massaging her clit. “I’m so fucking close.”
Desperate to watch her fall apart again, I double down on my efforts, thrusting in rhythm with my thumb. “Let go, Princess.”
A few more seconds and she spasms around me, wailing my name. I could make this woman come all fucking night. Her body’s grip on my cock is enough to drive me insane.
She grabs my ass and pulls me closer. “Give me more.”
