Chapter 16 "I've spent years resisting this, Avery. Resisting you. But fuck, I can't do it anymore." The words barely leave Henry's lips before he yanks me tighter against him, his grip on my hips firm and possessive. My back bows as he pulls us closer together, the hot centers of our laps matching up right along with our chests. My breath comes in pants as the reality that I've finally convinced him hits me, and my head swims with the imaginings of what happens from here. Henry's blue eyes burn a hundred degrees hotter than usual, and, considering he's a man with a smolder that could already kill, that's really saying something. The heat. The tension. The unrelenting, pulsing need that's been burning between us for years. All of it is undeniable now. There's no stopping this. "You can change your mind." His voice drops, low and steady, a whisper of raw, unshakable resolve. He's giving me the choice, making sure I know I have an out, but his grip on me and the way his fingers are tangled in my hair are possessive in a way that screams mine. And hell's bells, it only makes my need for him grow to a level I've never ever experienced with a man. "Any time, no matter how far we go," he continues. "You can always change your mind." He's still a gentleman, still putting me first. And if that weren't already enough to convince me that Henry Callahan is the right choice, the way he's looking at me? The way his body anchors me, protects me, worships me without even touching me yet? It's more than enough. It's everything, and it confirms that he's safe. I should've never run away from whatever this is between us at that Halloween party over four freaking years ago. I mean, Gah, he was the Antonio Banderas to my Catherine Zeta-Jones, and the kiss we shared nearly put me on my ass. All of that should have been a damn sign. I nod, our foreheads brushing, our breaths tangling. "I know. And thank you. Thank you for being everything I already knew you were." His jaw flexes, his grip on me tightening. "Avery." "Kiss me, Henry." He doesn't hesitate. Lacing his fingers into the loose hair at the back of my head, Henry pulls my face toward his until his mouth claims mine. My belly feels firm and buoyant all at once, and my arms ache to wrap around him tighter. I clutch his back as he presses our lips together, my eyes falling closed in sweet surrender as we give ourselves over to the moment completely. I've kissed a million times before. But never like this. Never like this. All the air in my lungs leaves, which is funny, because somehow, I still feel like I can breathe-feel like our connection is what's keeping me alive. Henry's fingers spasm at the back of my head, and I fight to get our mouths even closer, even though I'm fairly certain I'm already swallowing him whole. I moan, and he disconnects our mouths briefly, sucking at the skin of my neck to the point that I know I'm going to have a hickey. He's marking me, and I fucking love it. But also, I can't imagine I taste good after this many days without a full-blown shower, so I try to give him an out. "You don't have to...like...kiss me all over. I'm sure it tastes like dirt and sweat and ocean." "Yeah. Fuck that." His voice is gritty, primal, and he leans back to force my gaze to his. He searches my eyes for a long moment, and then he grips me snugger, pulling us impossibly close together. "If I'm going to have you, I'm going to taste you," he says and leans forward to nip and suck at my neck again. "Every inch, every fucking gorgeous part." He leans back again to lock our gazes. "I don't give a fuck if you're sweaty or salty or dirty." His breath scorches my skin, his lips moving back up, hovering at my ear. "Your skin is still like fucking candy." Holy fucking hell. With a speech like that, far be it for me to disagree. "Well, okay then." "You're mine tonight, Ave." Henry's words are a low growl against my skin, his voice the perfect combination of rough and commanding and sex and sin. His grip tightens on my hips, and his body cages me in, holding me exactly where he wants me-so much so that I can feel the hardness of his cock through his pants pressed firmly against my already throbbing clit. And fuck if I don't love it. A shiver rolls through me, my skin hypersensitive, my nipples straining against the fabric of my shirt. The weather-worn cashmere of my sweater feels suddenly overstimulating, so I lean back enough to pull it off over my head, exposing the tanned skin of my chest, shoulders, and stomach to him. Henry's gaze darkens, his nostrils flaring, his hands sliding up my ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. "Yeah." His voice is pure sin. "I hold my position on this one. Your body is perfect." I smile; I can't help it. I fucking love compliments. I flutter my lashes at him. "Go on." Henry chuckles, his lips curling with amusement, and his eyes flicker up to mine for a split second before he takes my nipple between his lips. His mouth is a comfort I don't expect. I don't know if it's because of the kisses we've shared in the past, but the familiarity is tangible despite the time I've spent avoiding him since that Halloween four years ago. His tongue swirls and teases my sensitive flesh, and I swear, my brain short-circuits. It's the sweetest form of torture, and a gasp tears from my throat as my back arches and presses even closer to his chest. I don't know how he manages it, but with little fuss or even a groan, he gets to his feet without separating our bodies, and I wrap my legs around his waist to cross my ankles at his back. He walks us toward the tent, his movements steady, controlled, strong. I clutch at his shoulders, my fingertips sinking into the ridges of his muscles, my lips seeking out his neck, his jaw, his mouth-wherever I can reach, wherever he'll let me consume him. Henry gently falls to his knees in front of our structure, my position around his waist unchanged. With one hand, he pulls back the flaps of the leaves, and with the other, he braces his movements as he scoots us inside on his knees. I hold on to his neck like a lifeline, kissing at the skin of his now-bearded face. I can't even remember a time in my life when Henry's had a beard, but it doesn't matter; he makes anything look good. Dirt, sweat, several pounds down-he's still the ultimate male specimen. And tonight, he's mine. Using care not to scratch my bare back against the sea grape leaves we have on the floor, Henry adjusts me gently into the middle of the tent and follows me in, the weight of his warm body covering me entirely. All I can see are the care and comfort of his blue eyes. But also, there's a pure fire there that lies beneath his irises, searing into me like they've already decided, tonight, I belong to him. And God, I do. I rub at his dried-out lips with a careful finger, knowing he's been withholding most of the water we collect every day for me. "Thank you for taking care of me, Henry," I whisper into the quiet. There's no music, no TV in the background-nothing to drown out the sound of our excited breaths other than the soft lull of the lapping ocean outside. "It's been an honor and a privilege. And I know that might sound cheesy or-" "No," I cut in before he can walk back the best thing anyone's ever said to me. "It's...unbelievably romantic and, dare I say, perfect for the occasion." Henry's answering smile is captivating, but I can't go another second without feeling his mouth on mine again. Pulling him by the neck, I touch our lips together until he takes control of the kiss, sweeping his tongue into my mouth and running it the length of mine. As it turns out, the toothbrush I tossed into my waist pack on a whim before we left is one of the best boons of the whole ordeal. We've shared it, keeping the hygiene of our mouths up to the point that neither of us even has bad breath. Henry's hands cascade down the bare skin of my sides to my hips and stop, his fingers tugging gently at the now-looser straps of my bikini bottom. I raise my butt to help, and he pulls them down and off, moving his body back enough to get them over my feet and then settling back on top of me. I should feel exposed, but I don't. I feel incredibly, undeniably secure. Nuzzling my neck for a moment and then moving to my chest, Henry kisses my skin like it's porcelain. I can see his lips against me, and yet it feels like I'm watching someone else. Truly, I almost don't recognize myself, I'm so tanned. "You're beautiful, Avery." "You're pretty handsome yourself." Henry chuckles. "I thought you were tired of talking?" "This talking feels different." He nods. "Yeah." Slowly but surely, his mouth works down my body until stopping at the apex of my thighs. My situation is thankfully still pretty situated, given my Brazilian wax right before New Year's, but I have a feeling even if it weren't, Henry wouldn't mind. He's not one of the pompous pricks I normally spend my time running around with; he's a real man. By God, has he proven that over and over since we got here. He teases me with his tongue, and my head lolls back. My shoulders release, sinking into the ground below them, and the burden of everything that's happened over the last week leaves my body in one big rush. "Fuck, Avery. Your pussy is even more incredible than I imagined it would be." "Henry." "Mhmm," he groans. "Say my name again, baby." "Henry." "Fuck yes," he says against me, his tongue working a circle around my clit before flicking my center and sucking. As incredible as this feels, and as much as I'd love to come, what I need the most is to feel him inside me. "Henry, you can eat me out later, I promise. But please, right now, I want you inside me." He looks up at me, his mouth and beard wet from the taste of me, and I nearly swoon at the heat in his eyes. His voice is rough and almost hoarse as he says, "I just realized I don't have a condom." "I don't care." "Avery..." He starts to shake his head, but I cut him off before he can say anything stupid. "I don't," I say, my voice hoarse with need. "Pull out before you come if you want, but I have to feel you inside me." He searches my face, my eyes, and I wait with bated breath for his next move. And I just about shriek in pure, unadulterated excitement and relief when he eventually nods, climbing back over my body and looking me right in the eyes again. There's a burn of power between us and then a flicker of change as he hands it over to me completely. "You're in control. If you tell me to stop, I'll stop." I laugh. "There's no fucking chance I'm telling you to stop." Ignoring me and my rambling, he leans back enough to maneuver himself and shucks his pants and shirt what feels like painfully slowly. His muscles flex, and I find myself mesmerized by the sight of it all. When he removes his boxer briefs, his rigid length standing at attention, a thrill of excitement rolls through me. He's beautiful. Every freaking inch of him, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. "Let me know if it hurts," he whispers, climbing back on top of me now that he's naked. I nod, and his hands find the sides of my face and settle, cradling me with more care than I've ever experienced in my life. Our worlds have narrowed to this moment, and I wouldn't have it any other way. My life at home is noisy; this is comfortable silence. Henry's movements are measured as he lines us up and pushes inside me. He takes his time, taking it inch by inch in an effort to give me time to acclimate. It's an invasion unlike any other, but I'm surprised at my body's willing acceptance and, more than that, greediness. For every little bit he gives, I become desperate for more. When he seats himself fully, my eyes fall closed in contentment. For the first time since we got here, I feel true peace. He kisses one eyelid and then the other, and I rub gently at the skin of his back with my fingernails, breathing in each other. When I'm ready, I test moving my hips to release just a little bit of him before pushing him back inside. It's so delicious, I can't help but moan. Henry sinks his face into my neck and repeats the motion, and my breath stutters. "My God." He nods against my skin, his voice a coarse whisper. "Tell me about it." Little by little, he picks up the tempo into a slow rhythm, and I wrap my limbs so tight around him I'd swear my body is making a bid for absorption. He doesn't seem to mind, even when it makes it more difficult for him to move, and I grab at his face as a pleasure unlike anything I've ever experienced builds inside me. I've orgasmed-plenty-but this feels like a thousand times that. Henry's breathing becomes more and more erratic as his own climax approaches, and I claw at his back and thrust my hips with the desperation to take myself over the cliff before he pulls out. It doesn't take much before I'm tumbling down, my head thrown back and a keening scream filling the silence around us, and Henry disappears, the warm weight of his climax coating my thighs not even a second later. It's messy and animalistic and...the most perfect thing the universe has ever done for me. I know I flit from one thing to another like a leaf in the wind. But when it came time to settle, I landed in just the right spot. I chose Henry. I chose right. And I'll never, ever look back on this night with regret.