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Henry
Henry marched up to the colonial home, determined to set things right with Victoria. With the shades drawn, the house was in total darkness. He placed his finger onto the doorbell, pressing down firmly, and waited.
Nothing—not even a peep.
Victoria had to be in there. Didn’t she? A pang of jealousy tore through him at the idea of her accepting a date with another man. He rubbed his ice-cold hands together before shoving them back into his coat pockets and then shifted his weight from foot to foot, a chill seeping deep into his bones.
Peering over his shoulder, he squinted into the darkness. The last thing he needed was for a well-meaning neighbor to call the police. Confident that no one watched, Henry picked up the door knocker, bringing it down solidly against the wooden door.
More silence.
Henry swore under his breath. Aggressively, he rapped the door knocker against the wooden barrier for a second time. The wind battered against his back, billowing into the opening around his coat’s neckline. Henry lifted its collar and buttoned it tight around his neck.
Why did the woman have to be so damn stubborn? Hand fisted, he pounded on the door. “Open the door, Victoria. We need to talk,” he bellowed. Damn the woman! If he remained on her doorstep much longer, he was bound to freeze to death.
Suddenly, he heard a low rustling sound come from behind the door. He held his breath, listening to what sounded like the shuffle of feet. A chain rattled followed by a shrill squeak. The door ajar, Victoria peeked through its slight crack. “Go away,” she commanded.
“It’s five bloody degrees out here,” he hissed.
“And your point is?”
Henry’s mouth dropped at her heartlessness. “I’d like to have a civilized conversation with you. Preferably, inside where it’s warm. I’d rather not die of hypothermia while I explain what happened. Also, I’d like to speak to more than the one side of your face that isn’t hidden behind the door.”
Nose pressed to the door, Victoria narrowed an eye on him. “Well, that’s your problem not mine. I’m sure Ms. Carrington would be more than happy to keep you warm.”
“Don’t be jealous,” Henry said, more than a little pleased to know she’d been perturbed about seeing him with Helen.
An unladylike snort released from her throat. “Go home,” Victoria said and slammed the door.
Henry ripped his hands from his coat pockets and pounded on the door. “I’m warning you, Victoria. I’m not leaving until you open this door. You can’t avoid me forever.”
“It won’t be my fault if you freeze to death,” her high-pitch voice shrieked from the other side of the door.
“You asked for this.” Henry balled each of his hands into a fist, slamming them repeatedly against the door.
Abruptly, the door swung open. Thrown off balance, Henry careened through the open doorway and into the living room.
“Are you dense? I told you that I don’t want to talk to you,” Victoria spat, her hands clenched at her sides.
Regaining his balance, he turned toward her and gaped. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Nipples puckered beneath a full-length satin nightgown, they taunted him with their divine peaks. Long, golden hair flowed loosely down her back, a few stray curls lying over one of the thin straps that graced her shoulders. Her hazel eyes, an intriguing shade of olive green sprinkled with amber flecks, blazed with fury.
“What are you thinking about answering the door dressed like that?” Henry snatched the neatly folded blanket from the recliner and forced it around Victoria’s shoulders. “Do you have a death wish? It’s freezing out there.”
“How dare you come to my home unannounced and act like some sort of Neanderthal?” Victoria threw her head back, her chin jutted forward in defiance. “I’d just settled into my bed when I was rudely interrupted by your brutishness.”
Henry shrugged out of his coat, placed it neatly on the arm of a recliner, and then took the liberty of sinking onto one of the couch’s plush cushions.
“Hey, don’t get too comfortable. I didn’t invite you in.” Victoria scooped his coat up and threw it at him.
Heedless of her anger, Henry patted the vacant cushion beside him. “I thought we were going to have a heart-to-heart. It would be so much more enjoyable if we were both comfortable, but if you wish to remain standing, that’s your prerogative.”
“You...you...heathen,” Victoria spat. “You’re crazy if you think I am interested in hearing anything you could possibly have to say.”
I could get drunk on her beauty.
She pulled the woolen blanket tighter to her chest, the slight quiver in her voice betraying her nervousness. “Stop looking at me like that,” she demanded.
“I can’t,” Henry answered truthfully. “You steal my breath away every time I look at you.”
She blushed, her porcelain skin appearing to have been kissed in crimson.
His voice was lower now, huskier. “When you’re near, my heart nearly thumps out of my chest. My cock hardens, aching with a need only you can fill.” Henry rose from the couch and prowled toward her. “I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t sleep. And it’s all because of you.” Towering over her, he ran a fingertip over her plump bottom lip. “How do you do it?” Henry asked incredulously.
Victoria stared up at him, her eyes wide as if in wonder.
“You’ve no idea how you make me feel,” Henry rasped. “Do you?”
She shook her head slowly.
“You make me feel like a boy,” he said and moved his fingers to a curl that lay over her shoulder, rolling it between his fingertips. “Horny as hell. Awkward and unsure as if I were a virgin.” His lips curved into a wistful smile. “You give me a million reasons to dare to believe I might have a second chance at happiness.”
Victoria averted her gaze from his.
“Don’t turn away from me,” Henry said and cupped her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. Tenderly, he stroked her cheek. “You have no idea what a temptress you are.”
“Stop,” Victoria said, placing her palm over his broad chest. His pulse thrummed beneath her splayed fingers, his virility evidenced beneath her touch. “Don’t say things like that. You shouldn’t look at me like you do. Or touch me in a way that makes me feel like I’m—” Suddenly, she stopped speaking and stepped from his embrace. Her nightgown flowed around her as she moved across the floor. One hand clenched the edges of the blanket to her chest, while her other covered her lips as if they’d been burned by what she was about to confess.
“Like you’re what?” he asked eagerly.
Indecision reflected in her eyes as she studied him.
In two long strides Henry reached her. “Tell me,” he asked, unable to disguise the desperation filling his request.
“Henry—” Victoria whispered, her voice laced with fragility.
Closing his eyes, Henry took a deep breath. “Please,” he pleaded.
The word rushed from her lips on a single breath: “Desirable.”
Henry’s hand flew to the base of her neck, his fingers plunging into the thick mass of golden hair. Fisting it between his fingers, he pulled gently to force Victoria’s neck to arch. He slammed his mouth down over hers, his dick instantly growing hard.
Groaning, Victoria reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Satisfaction washed over him as the blanket immediately dropped into a heap at her feet. Snaking his arms around Victoria’s back, he crushed her to his chest and hoisted her from the floor. “Wrap your legs around me,” he panted, breaking the kiss.
She clung to him as she complied to his demand. “Don’t stop kissing me,” she commanded, her lips capturing his. Wildly, their tongues lashed in and out, swirling in frenzied lust.
Cupping Victoria’s ass securely within his palms, he carried her across the room and lowered her onto the couch. She squirmed in anticipation, his cock twitching beneath the confines of his pants as he adjusted her squarely onto his lap and then reclined back.
Victoria worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ve never done this before—on top, I mean,” she said softly as his fingers ran up and down each of the legs positioned next to each side of his.
“I’ll teach you,” he answered and brushed his lips to hers. His palms glided down the underside of each breast, moving lower to trace his fingertips over her hips. He fisted the silky satin and hiked the rippling material up to her waist.
Her lips slightly parted, she moaned, lolling her neck to the side. Henry’s attention turned to the delicate flesh beneath her ear, brushing kisses over the soft skin. Slipping a finger beneath the nightgown’s thin strap, he shoved it from her shoulder and beneath one breast.
Fingers splayed, Victoria snaked her arms over his shoulders. “Touch me,” she breathed. Instantly, his tongue flicked out, licking and sucking her nipple.
A golden halo sheathed his face as she lay her head to his, her hair blanketing him. He ripped the fabric from her other breast, exposing it to his artful ministration, and thrust his groin against her womanhood.
“Henry—” she groaned. “I’m so wet.”
“Goldilocks,” Henry rasped. “I want you dripping for me.”
“Please—I need to be touched,” she cried and ripped her arms from Henry’s shoulders. Hastily, she fisted each side of her satin nightgown between her fingers, pulling it to her waist and then over her head, discarding it onto the floor. She moved her hand down to her mound. “Oh...God,” she moaned as her finger circled over her clit, her neck arching back as she touched herself.
“Fuck me,” Henry hissed.
“That’s the plan,” she groaned as her fingers skimmed lower to rub up and down between her folds. “I’m just a little busy right now.”
Henry released a deep chuckle. “I thought you said you’ve never done this before.”
“I...I haven’t.” Victoria’s breathing shallowed as she gyrated her hips.
Henry licked his lips. “You’re a natural,” he said, nearly salivating as one of Victoria’s hands cupped her breast, her fingertips rolling over a puckered nipple while with her other hand, she stroked up and down her pussy. Throbbing and uncomfortably swollen, Henry watched mesmerizingly as his goddess pleasured herself. “You’re the fucking sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
Her arousal soaked his crotch. “So greedy,” he said, moving to capture her hand.
A small whimper of protest came from Victoria’s lips.
“It’s not nice not to share.” Henry sucked her finger into his mouth, licking every drop of the sticky residue from its tip. “You taste divine.”
Passion flickered in her eyes, a coy smile curving her lips. “I think it’s time for my lesson, Mr. Santana,” she said.
“My pleasure,” Henry answered and attempted to unbutton his pants.
She pushed his hand out of the away, her small fingers moving to the bulge in his crotch. Fumbling with the button of his pants, she breathed a sigh of relief as it gave way. Urgently, she tugged the zipper down. Lifting slightly, Henry helped her shove his pants and underwear to his ankles. Cupping his shaft between her fingers, Victoria started to stroke him up and down.
A guttural sound emitted from deep within his chest. “I can’t wait any longer.” He started to reach down for his pants to retrieve a condom.
“Have you been tested?” Victoria flushed, her words coming out in a rush.
Holy shit!
Reclining back against the couch, he studied her, the frenzy of the previous moment lost as he felt her shiver. “Yes, right before I left Miami,” he finally answered, his voice lowering when he added, “You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m clean.”
“Me, too. I was tested right after David and I broke up.”
Henry’s heart seized. Victoria was opening up, lowering her guard to be vulnerable. Don’t fuck this up, he kept thinking as she continued to say, “I’m not the kind of woman who sleeps around,” Victoria said, a slight tremor in her voice. “I’m not easy.”
Henry cupped her chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing Victoria to look at him. “You think I don’t know that?” he asked, trying to rein in his anger that she’d even consider for a moment that he’d think so little of her.
Flushing, her hazel eyes bore into his. “David was the only one,” she admitted softly. “I saved myself for the man I was going to marry, and I thought—”
“Shh,” Henry murmured. “I don’t take a minute I’m with you for granted.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he gently brushed his lips over hers and then pulled back to cup her face between his palms. “I want you, Victoria Hathaway. Anyway I can have you. With or without a condom—you call the shots.”
Henry heard her intake of breath and watched as she closed her eyes as if looking at him would hinder the weight of his words. “I want you—all of you,” she said softly as her eyes fluttered open. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. A deep moan escaped from her as Henry clutched her to him, his tongue delving into her mouth. “No condom,” she panted, breaking the kiss.
“You’re sure?” Henry asked.
“Yes,” she said and pushed down harder, her wet folds sliding over the head of his cock.
“Fuck, Goldilocks,” Henry rasped. “I can’t wait much longer.”
“I don’t want you to.” Victoria reached down, grasping his cock with her hands, and guided him to the opening of her channel.
“Go on,” Henry said deeply.
“Help me,” Victoria whispered.
Without another word, his fingers clamped over hers as his other hand secured her hip. He thrust into her, a high-pitched cry coming from Victoria as he pushed her down to take him to the hilt. “So fucking tight,” Henry growled as her vaginal walls clenched around him.
Eyes hooded, Victoria rode astride him, meeting him thrust for thrust as Henry bucked beneath her. Heavy and swollen, her breasts bounced up and down. Henry reached up, cupping each of the round globes in his hand as she tossed her head back, her hair cascading down the length of her back.
Legs trembling, she violently quaked around him, screaming as her warm juices gushed over him. She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as Henry galloped toward bliss. His teeth clenched and he shuddered, flooding Victoria with his release.
Victoria
The grandfather clock chimed as if to mock her. It was the witching hour—the time of night where the supernatural had been rumored to come to life. Naked, Victoria lay within its snare, Henry’s arm draped lazily over her shoulder. Lips slightly parted, his breaths were shallow and deep. How content—peaceful—he looked as he slept. Victoria smoothed her palm over his sculpted pecs, stroking the sparse, dark hairs that shadowed his nipples. Soft to the touch, the hairs glided smoothly between her thumb and forefinger. Resting her chin atop her hand, she watched as he slept, transfixed by his otherworldliness. Henrique Santana was truly magnificent.
Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. Lost in her thoughts of admiration, she’d not been prepared for Henry’s sinfully long, dark lashes to flutter open. “Hi,” she whispered.
“I must have fallen asleep,” he said groggily.
“We both did.”
“Just a few more minutes. Then I promise to get up,” Henry said, closing his eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
An eyelid cracked open. “You don’t?”
“No,” Victoria brushed her lips over his chest, sucking his taut nipple into her mouth.
Henry moaned. “I like the way you touch me,” he breathed. His arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her tighter against him. “Did I die and go to heaven?”
She giggled softly. “Oh, you’re very much alive,” she said, a sly smile forming over her lips. Proving her point, she cupped his swollen shaft, stroking up and down the velvety smooth member.
Henry stretched his arms above his head. Groaning low and deep, he lolled his head onto his forearms, his eyes remaining closed, and smiled. Inhaling deeply, he expelled a ragged breath. “Ms. Hathaway, you’re one wickedly wonderful woman.”