“Until I asked you.” It wasn’t a question, but Sophie nodded anyway. Henry wiped some of the tears from her cheek. “And it hurts badly right now?”
She bit her lip, but she could hardly deny it. She’d screamed when she tried to get up. She sighed. “Yes, it hurts badly.” It killed her to admit it to him, but when he asked her a direct question, she didn’t have it in her to lie.
“Stay right here.” He was gone before she could reply. She heard the sound of running water, drawers opening and closing, the clink of glass, and then silence. She frowned, trying to breath through the pain of her knotting muscles, massaging her knee.
She jerked up as the glass door slid open and Henry once more appeared from the terrace, arms laden with various objects. He thrust a glass of wine into her hand. “Here, drink this. It will help you relax.”
“I should probably—”
“Drink the wine.”
She blinked in surprise at his commanding tone and sipped the wine. He set a bottle of aspirin beside her on the end table, near her water bottle. Next to that he set a jar of Tiger Balm. Sophie recognized the distinctive red and gold container. There was one in nearly every room of her apartment.
Henry surprised her again, getting to his knees in front of her. The last item he held was a damp washcloth. He lifted her chin with his left hand, wiping her cheeks with the soft, cool cloth. Sophie sighed at the gentle gesture, and Henry smiled.
“There. Now, let’s have a look at this knee.”
His words sent hot shards of panic into her heart and she clutched her knee with her left hand. “That’s not necessary. Once I have the wine and the aspirin I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
“Sophie,” he said, his deep voice brooking no argument. “Let me see your knee.”
Sophie took a deep breath and moved her hand. She gulped wine, breathing heavily as he inspected the troublesome joint carefully.
Henry smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she breathed, answering automatically as she stared into the lambent ebony of his eyes. Sophie felt his hand lifting the hem of her pants leg, but didn’t care. Or rather, she cared, but she didn’t mind. His knuckles lightly brushed her calf as he raised the loose material up. He pushed it gently over her knee, fingers grazing her inner thigh as he tucked it out of the way. But his eyes never left hers.
He smoothed the fabric, stroking the curve of her thigh, before lowering his gaze. Sophie tensed, sucking in a sharp breath and squeezing her own eyes closed, anticipating the shuttering of that heated gaze, the blank plasticity of his face as he struggled to contain his disgust. Just like Christian had before he left.
She jumped, whimpering, as she felt him trace his fingertip along the side of her kneecap. The scar there wasn’t nearly as terrible as it had been, thick and twisted, before the cosmetic surgery. But it was still white and raised. And the flesh of her thigh, just above the knee, was pale and pitted where the infection had eaten away at her. Her leg looked as if a large beast had taken a bite of it. Which was, in fact, how it had felt at the time.
Sophie knew the knotted muscles would be standing out beneath her skin, writhing like serpents. But Henry’s touch was warm and gentle. He cupped the back of her knee, fingers digging cautiously into the locked tendon there. His thumbs gently massaged the twitching muscles above her kneecap, easing the strain. Sophie groaned.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” Henry murmured. He kept rubbing, firmly but not too hard, until the cramp let up. Sophie let out a long sigh of relief, the tension easing from her shoulders as the pain lessened. Henry’s hands kept working, warm and dry against her skin.
“Henry—”
“Drink your wine, Sophie.”
She did as he said, draining the last of the wine. He smiled at her. The look tugged in her belly, sexy and dark.
“Good. Now, take some of those aspirin.” He was still rubbing. The warmth that had begun at his firm touch was spreading up her thigh, into her belly. She set the wine glass down and twisted off the cap of the aspirin bottle, shaking two of the small white pills into her palm. She tossed them back, sipping from her water bottle to wash them down.
Sophie moved to draw her leg out of his grasp. “For a businessman, you’re pretty good at first aid.”
His hands remained firm on her knee, not letting her up. “I have many talents. Don’t move. I still have to put the salve on.”
“I’ll do that when I get home. So it doesn’t get on my clothes.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she saw the flare of heat in his eyes and knew he was picturing her naked. She was too, only adding him to the scene. They both inhaled sharply, staring at each other for a long, quiet moment.
Sophie was intensely aware of his hands on her bare skin, inches from the apex of her thighs. Kneeling as he was, he was almost eye level with her. She didn’t know if he leaned in, or she did, or they both moved at the same time, but his mouth was only a fraction of an inch from hers. She felt his breath against her lips.
“Sophie,” he murmured.
She licked her lips nervously. “Henry—”
But whatever she had been going to say evaporated as his mouth crashed down on hers.
His lips were flame and hers were tinder. She ignited at his touch. Sophie opened beneath his hungry mouth, whimpering as his tongue teased hers with sensuous strokes. He tasted of the wine they’d had earlier, and something else, some dark spice she couldn’t name. She gripped his shoulders, fingers tightly curling into the fine cotton of his shirt.
Henry sucked at her lower lip, a soft growl in his throat as his strong arms came around her. Just as when they danced, he drew her close against his chest, angling his mouth back over hers. His kisses were hot, wet, voracious, as he returned to her lips again and again, tongues twining erotically.
Sophie ran her hands up the corded muscles of his neck, sliding her fingers into the thick fall of his dark hair. The touch of his mouth on her skin was hotter, more erotic than anything she could have imagined. Her muscles trembled with desire as he dropped little sucking bites along her throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh just above her collarbone sending a cascade of sparks down to the taut peaks of her breasts. She moaned, fingernails scratching against his scalp.
“Henry, please!” She tilted her head back, giving him better access to her throat. She shouldn’t be doing this. There was some reason she should be stopping him. But it seemed very distant and unimportant compared to the throbbing of her heart and the pulsing of her sex.
She felt his fingers curl around the edge of her t-shirt, his knuckles brushing the bare skin of her waist. He lifted his head, bringing his mouth back to hers, running his tongue along the inner satin of her lower lip and nipping it gently. “Raise your arms.”
In Henry’s rich, throaty voice, the words were a welcome command. Sophie obeyed, her eyes locked on his hungry gaze. She trembled as he pulled her shirt up and off, tossing it hastily away, baring her torso. Only the thin white lace of her bra shielded her aching breasts from his eyes.
“Take it off.”
Sophie bit her lip and unhooked her bra, drawing the scrap of lace down her arms and setting it aside.
“Mio Dio, Sophie,” Henry murmured gruffly. His hand rose, cupping one of her small breasts, pinching the taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Sophie whimpered at the spear of pleasure that spiked into her belly. He pressed his mouth to hers again with a kiss that left Sophie shaking.
She closed her eyes as Henry bent his head, crying out in delight as she felt the wet velvet of his tongue flick against her breast, tracing circles around the hard peak before sucking it into his mouth and drawing hard. Sophie’s hands came up, once again tangling in his hair as his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, closing gently over the taut bud.
“Henry!” Sophie writhed beneath his kisses.
Her past lovers had always been gentle, treating her like a delicate porcelain figurine, as if she were breakable. But
not Henry. His touch had an edge of harshness, his words all sounded like commands. Sophie was more turned on than she’d ever been. Whereas she’d sometimes had trouble reaching orgasm before, she was about to come just from the touch of Henry’s mouth.
He drew back from her suddenly, sitting back on his haunches. He was breathing hard, nostrils flaring. Sophie trembled beneath his gaze. He held out a hand.
“Stand up.”
Sophie rose. He’d been kneeling so close, her feet were on either side of his thighs. She looked down, staring at the sight of Henry’s gorgeous mouth mere inches from her tingling sex, needing to bite her lip to keep from moaning.
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Henry leaned forward just a fraction of an inch and pressed a closed mouth kiss against the fabric of her pants, right over her mound. Sophie sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, eyelids fluttering at the fleeting touch.
She felt the brush of his knuckles against her waist as he reached up and curled his fingers beneath the waistband of her yoga pants. Henry kept his eyes on hers as he peeled the soft, stretchy material down her hips slowly. Soon she was stepping out of them.
When she was completely naked except for the thin scrap of her white lace panties and the heels she’d worn to dance in, Henry once again leaned back to study her. After several beats, he wrapped his big hands around her ankles, thumbs stroking tantalizing circles against her skin. Slowly, not breaking their gaze, he slid his palms up her calves.
He paused there, massaging the hard muscles gently. Sophie bit her lip hard as his hands continued upward toward her bad knee. He cupped her there, squeezing them tenderly. His thumb briefly traced the edge of her scar, but he kept sliding upward.
She shuddered in relief. Henry was still staring up at her as if he was going to devour her. When the tips of his thumbs grazed just beneath the edge of her panties, Sophie’s hips jerked spasmodically. Henry smiled.
“You have gorgeous legs, Sophie.”
She shook her head, wordless. “Don’t argue,” he said. “Believe me when I tell you your legs are sexy and beautiful and this,” he bent and pressed a quick kiss to the mangled skin just above her kneecap, “doesn’t change that.”
Hot tears stung the back of her eyes. She swallowed hard. Both because of Henry’s words and the feel of his lips against her thigh. “Thank you,” she managed.
He brushed his open mouth against her thigh again. “No, thank you,” he murmured against her flesh. His tongue came out to swipe over her skin quickly. Sophie moaned. He moved to her other leg and repeated the brief lick along her inner thigh. She clenched her hands into fists, resisting the urge to grab his head and press him against her slick sex.
This was like that first dance, the one at the studio. He was going slow, gauging her reactions, testing her. And just like she had then, she was following his lead breathlessly and completely, ready for whatever direction he took her in next. She relaxed her hands, taking a deep breath.
It caught in her throat as Henry flicked his tongue against her soaking wet panties. Sophie felt the warmth of his tongue as it wriggled against the lips of her sex, pushing against the fabric of her panties. She rocked her hips forward for more.
But Henry pulled back, licking his lips. He dropped his hands from her thighs, once again leaning away from her. She knew what was coming, but the anticipation still made her shudder.
“Remove your panties.”
She should say something. Shouldn't she? This was going too fast, too far. Her body was on fire with desire. She wanted this, but she’d never done anything like it before. He should know that. “Henry—”
“Off, Sophie. Now.”
His words were firm, commanding. It made it so easy. All she had to do was listen to what he said, do what he said, and they’d both get what they wanted. She curled her fingers around the waistband of her panties and began sliding them down. As soon as they reached her knees, she let them fall.
Her panties dropped around her ankles and Sophie stepped out of them. He was still completely clothed, while she stood naked except for her shoes. She lifted one foot. “My shoes—”
“Leave them on.”
She inhaled sharply at the deep, wicked tone to his words. Henry got to his feet quickly, and reached out to trace the line of her jaw, dropping briefly to tweak her nipple before brushing through the soft, dark curls covering her sex.
Sophie trembled, hips twitching. Her slick lips slid against his palm.
“Oh god!” She moaned. He stepped closer, brushing a kiss across her mouth, tongue teasing at the seam of her lips. He didn’t move his hand.
“Lovely Sophie, turn around.”
Her hands curled into fists, but she did as he said, spinning until her back was to him. She gasped as he pressed his whole body against hers. She could feel the hard length of his cock prodding her buttocks and trembled. He nipped her shoulder while his arms came around her. The heavy material of his slacks chafed the backs of her thighs.
“Put your arms around my neck,” he whispered against her lips. She slid her hands into his hair, clinging, and arching her back to press her breasts into his hand. “Mmm, yes. Like that. Now spread your legs for me.”
Again, she obeyed, leaning back against the tall, lean length of his body as she slid her feet farther apart. The rigid length of his erection pressed against the small of her back. Sophie rocked her hips, rubbing herself along his cock. Henry’s hands tightened on her. He ran his fingertips through her dark curls until he found the top of her slit. Sophie whimpered into his mouth as he parted the moist lips of her sex and slid one, then two, fingers inside her.
She bucked against his invading hand, body undulating against his as she chased the contact she so desperately needed. Henry rubbed the base of his palm in wide circles around her clit, his fingers pumping in and out of her clinging pussy. He curled his tongue around hers, sucking. She was so close, her orgasm a tight, glittering star nearly within her reach.
“Oh god!”
Henry plunged his fingers deeper into her, stroking against her slick inner walls. His long thumb pressed her clit hard while his other hand rolled the taut bud of her nipple between his calloused fingers.
Sophie came, moaning as she clamped around his fingers, squeezing rhythmically. All her muscles trembled as pleasure poured through her, hot and sweet as honey. She shuddered in his strong arms, pressing her mouth hard against his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. The tidal wave of sensation seemed to cover her for long minutes while she whimpered and panted.
He was still completely dressed. She was quaking in the aftermath of a truly spectacular orgasm, and Henry hadn’t even removed his watch. It made her feel hot and shivery all over again. He was murmuring to her, low words in another language. She didn’t understand them. She didn’t care. They were rough, sweet, sexy words. He whispered them between the soft kisses he rained down on her shoulders.
“C’è la mia bella ragazza.” He picked her up. Sophie melted into his chest, clutching to his strength. His lean muscles were taut against her skin, even through his shirt.
“I don’t know what that means.”
He nipped her lower lip. “It’s not important.” Henry pivoted, crossing the small sitting room in two strides. He pushed open the door with his foot, carrying her across the threshold into his bedroom. Sophie gasped. The entire wall was windows, looking out over the city.
The bed was massive, a great lake of a bed covered in a dark green blanket. She gave a small cry as Henry tossed her lightly into the center of the vast mattress. Sophie watched as Henry pulled off his shoes and socks and hastily tossed them aside before reaching for his shirt. She reached out, touching the back of his hand.
“Let me?”
His hands dropped. “Do it then. Undress me, Sophie.”
She bit her lip, tugging the shirt from his waistband, keeping her eyes on his face. Sophie opened each button slowly, baring his chest inch by inch. When every button was undo
ne, she pulled his shirt open, shoving it off his wide shoulders and tugging it down his arms.
Henry pulled the sleeves free of his wrists and dropped the shirt. His chest was muscled and lightly furred with dark hair. Beneath the broad expanse, his stomach was flat and hard. She rubbed her palms over his shoulders, down his arms, leaning in to press her mouth against his skin. He tasted of sweat and spice. She traced patterns on his flesh with her tongue, on his neck, his collarbone.
When he drew back his eyes were fierce as coals. “Get on your knees.”
Desire shot through her legs at the sensual fire in the words. Her pussy grew slick and was once again throbbing. She sank to her knees at his feet. Henry stared down at her, touching her cheek. “Finish. Undress me.”
Her hands trembled as she raised them to his belt. She undid the buckle, tugging the length of leather free of its loops and tossing it aside. It was a matter then of only sliding down his zipper and pushing his slacks down off his hips. They slid to his ankles and he kicked them away, leaving him in only his boxers. His erection was practically bursting through the thin fabric.
She bit her lip, slipping her fingers into the waistband and drawing out the hard length of his cock. He was thick and long, the smooth head engorged. Sophie opened her mouth wide and wrapped her lips around the spongy tip, licking at a bead of pre-cum. It was salty and slick. Henry hissed as she took him into her mouth, sliding her lips down his shaft. Tasting him like this, pleasuring him like this, intensified Sophie’s own desire. The glide of his silken skin against her tongue, the salt and male musk flavor of him, the springy hair at the base that tickled against her nose when she fully engulfed him—every sensation only heightened her own arousal.
Sophie stroked him, tongue curling around his shaft. Henry groaned, sliding himself between her lips, shuddering. Again he murmured words she couldn’t understand. She didn’t care. It’s not important, he’d said. It wasn’t.
“Sophie,” he moaned. “Dolce ragazza. Stop.” She pulled off of him, looking up into his smoldering eyes. He stroked her face. “I need to be inside you now.”
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