I awoke the next morning in the big white bed thoroughly used and alone. Sitting up, I looked around for some sign that Henry was close. The silken sheet slid down my body, revealing the marks he’d put on me. Love bites, my Johnny would’ve called them. Henry had marked me. I’d never allowed Jack or Aaron such liberties. It had been my experience that men, while they didn’t mind a woman’s boldness in bed, never liked to be reminded that they weren’t the only one she gave her affection to.
My cheeks heated at the thought of explaining to my other two gentlemen callers just why I’d allowed a third man to do to me what I’d patently refused them. What did that say about the change Henry had brought over me? Was it me somehow subconsciously allowing myself to be owned by Henry in ways that I’d only ever allowed my Johnny? Did this mean that I no longer wanted to entertain the affections of Aaron and Jack? For surely they’d take one look at me, in my present condition, and refuse to lie with me. The ego of man was a fragile, fragile thing.
I rose from the bed and stretched. Every part of me was sore, especially between my legs. Henry had used me in more ways and more times in one night than I was accustomed to. A delicious thrill raced through me at the remembrance of all the pleasure he’d given me. He had more stamina and comeback than any man I’d even been with, including my Johnny.
The thoughts drifted in like unwelcome ghosts, casting their doubt. Thoughts I’d firmly set aside every time Henry had entered me. He wasn’t here now to chase them away so they lingered and grew roots.
I slid a hand between my legs. Dry. As many times as Henry had taken his pleasure inside of me, I should be full of him upon rising. So full that it should trickle down my legs. But there was nothing. And then I thought of all the times he’d pushed my hands away when I’d tried to touch him, or turned me around so I’d faced away, and how he’d never been nude with me, having worn his pajama bottoms all night.
I ran a hand over the sheets. It was the same. We should’ve soaked the sheets with our combined fluids. My confusion grew until it filled my head, washing shame over me in hot waves. Henry had been good to me. I should be grateful. He paid me handsomely and treated me with care. He gave me unmeasured pleasure with his hands and his mouth and his…
My thoughts stalled. Henry was generously endowed. He’d filled me multiple times. His powerful thrusts brought me to pleasure over and over again. But there was something not quite right about the whole business.
If I’d had no experience I might not have noticed. I could never feign virginity or innocence. I was a fallen woman. A woman men paid to lie with. I knew what I was and the names people used—tart, wanton…whore. I was all of those things and more and yet I wasn’t ashamed. I gave as much as I got. It was an equitable exchange of pleasure. My gentlemen always came back for more. Henry was no exception. Except that he was. What was the protocol in such circumstances?
The bedroom door opened and Henry strode in carrying a tray laden with food. He took in my appearance, his gaze silkily stroking my skin like a touch. He wore a robe over his bare chest and pajama bottoms. I was struck all over again by his handsomeness. He was beautiful, heartbreakingly so.
“Good morning,” he said. “I’ve brought you sustenance.”
The question I’d first posed in his office the day we’d met came flying at me from out of nowhere. “Why am I here? You could have anyone. Why me?”
He set the tray down on top of the piano, rattling the dishes. “This again.”
“I’m not especially beautiful. I’m not as worldly and sophisticated as I once was. I’m a widow, a whore who sells her body to finance her existence. You could be with debutants and starlets. What are you doing with me?”
“I thought we went over this.” He pulled his cigarette case from his robe pocket and lit one, keeping his gaze steady on me. But there was something dark behind his eyes, something that made me lean back in defense.
“You said that your needs are unusual,” I pressed. “What needs? From the things we’ve done, your needs aren’t any different from those of other men. There are some peculiarities—”
“My needs,” he ground out, “are mine to share or not share. Frankly you aren’t in a position to question me. I pay for your body, not your thoughts.”
I flinched at his words. He’d never spoken to me like this before, but then I’d said the same about myself. I shouldn’t be shocked by them. The thoughts about him drifted in again, demanding to be answered. “Is there something the matter with you, some condition you haven’t shared—”
“Silence!” He stubbed out his cigarette on the tray. “On your hands and knees. Now.”
“Henry—”
“If I wanted your mouth, I’d wrap it around my cock. On your knees.”
I started to obey, partly out of fear and partly out of salacious curiosity.
“Turn around,” he said. “Then down. On the floor.”
I did as I was told, presenting Henry with my bare backside. I couldn’t help the shiver that went through me as he knelt behind me and put his hands between my legs.
“You’re wet. Does talking back to me excite you?” He wrapped his fist in my hair and pulled back gently to bring my head up. “Is this what you want?” He ground his erection against my backside. “Have I not given it to you enough?”
“You have. I just… Why can’t I touch you?” I reached a hand between my legs, grazing his member with my fingertips. “I want to touch you, take you in my mouth and pleasure you.”
He reached around me and grasped my wrist, bringing my arm behind my back, but not hurting me. “I’m the one in charge here. I say what happens.”
“I’d understand. I’ve heard of prosthetics—”
He used his size and strength to topple me over onto my back and came down on top of me. His breathing came in harsh, heavy pants. There was something like panic in his expression that made me want to reach out and soothe his brow.
“I thought you were different,” he whispered. “I thought…”
“I am. This?” I pointed to his love bite on my breast. “I’ve only ever allowed my Johnny to mark me, make me his. Only him, and now you.” I took his face in my hands. “I just want to be close to you, to understand you. You had to know I would figure it out eventually. I can’t be the first.”
He laid his head in the crook of my neck. “You’re not demanding money for your silence?”
“Is that what others have done?” It all made sense now. Why he paid me instead of dating the kind of women a man like him would want on his arm. “I’m not like them.”
“I know. I think I knew that from the first moment I met you. I want to be inside you. I want you to come apart under me, screaming my name. But I need you to not question me anymore on this. I need you to not look at me or try to touch me. I need you to pretend…” His voice broke on the last word. “I’m a real man.”
“You are a real man.”
“No. I’m not. But being with you…” He raised his head and looked down at me. “I feel like one.”
“Come inside me.” I pushed my pelvis into his, rubbing against his prosthesis. “Make me feel you. Give me pleasure and let me give it to you. I promise not to look or touch.” I slipped my thumb into his mouth. “Lie with me, Henry. Make me yours once more.”
He pulled back a little, fumbling with the front of his pajama bottoms. His gaze stayed on mine as he pushed into me. I arched up as he filled me, my eyes drifting closed.
“No,” he said. “Look at me. See me.”
“I do see you, Henry. Don’t you get it? I’ve only ever seen you. Not this room, this house, your wealth and status…or your secret. I see only you.”
He thrust into me harder, making me gasp. “I want to see you come. I want you looking at me when I push you over. I want you to know it’s me who can give you this.” He punctuated his point with a grind of his hips that sent me spiraling toward orgasm.
I grasped my breasts in my hands, rolling my nipples. Close. So close.
“That’s it, love,” he coaxed. “Come for me.”
I broke into a thousand pieces under him. He rotated his hips a few more times, rubbing deliciously against me, and then he too found his pleasure, crying out my name. I brought him down and crushed my lips to his. Our mouths met in a mad frenzy, then slowed as the last flickers of ecstasy pulsed through me.
As my heart rate slowed I became aware of several things at once—Henry’s body heavy and warm on top of me, the silkiness of his hair between my fingers, and a sudden unexpected realization. My mind scrambled to wrap around the unwelcome thought.
This was his fantasy and it was my job to fulfill it, I reminded myself. Not question it. I’d already pushed too hard and gone too far. I could’ve lost him. If I didn’t control my wayward thoughts and just live in the illusion, I would lose him. Of this I was certain. So I smiled up at him as he gazed down at me with a satisfied grin on his face. I could almost read his thoughts as he stroked the hair back from my face.
He was becoming so much more to me than either Aaron or Jack had and possibly ever would. I think I knew the moment I met him that he would change my life in much the same way I knew my Johnny would when I’d first met him. Everything Henry had said and done to me in his office that first day came flooding back to me. And I knew. I knew.
Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.
“Hey,” he said in a bit of a panic, thumbing away the wetness. “What’s this? Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t think you could ever do that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m just happy.”
“These are happy tears?” He brought his thumb to his mouth. “They don’t taste like happy tears.”
“They are. I promise.”
He lowered himself so our bodies touched again, resting his weight on his forearms. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Believe this: you’ll always be safe with me. Your secrets are mine. In the short time I’ve known you, we’ve built a connection that goes beyond the physical. I know you feel it too.”
He lowered his head in agreement.
“Whatever your needs are, just know that I can meet them. I want to meet them.”
His gaze flickered up to mine and his lips parted as though he meant to say something, then he pressed them together and gave a brief nod.
“We’ll leave things as they are for however long you want. It’s up to you. I’m happy to go along as we are and equally as happy to take it further.”
“Thank you.” His voice was gruff, his eyes shiny. His gaze roamed my face as though he were looking for something in my expression or trying to read my thoughts, then he shook his head and he was back to the Henry who was in control. He pressed his lips to mine and slid out of me. “I’ve occupied you too much.” I kept my gaze on his face as he adjusted his pajama bottoms. “You must be sore. Come.” He rose and held his hand out to me. “Let’s breakfast and talk of other things.”
He held out a silken robe for me to slip into. It felt like heaven against my skin. “I am hungry.” My stomach chose that moment to heartily agree and I clapped a hand over it in embarrassment.
Laughing, he took my hand and led me to the piano where he’d left our food. “You must maintain your strength. I have lots of plans for you.”