Chapter 21

Twenty-One

J ane

“You can let go of the headboard, baby,” he says.

I forgot I was still hanging on.

“I need your hands on me. I need your arms around me, Jane.”

How did I end up with the sexiest, sweetest, most beautifully dirty-minded soul in existence?

I let go and reach down, helping him off with his boxers. I hadn’t gotten a good look at his cock when we screwed on top of the giant pumpkin yesterday. It’s perfect and lovely, just like my Henry. I run my hands over the soft skin, gently squeezing the hard length. A small bead of precum appears. Henry sees me lick my lips and try to clean it for him, but he threads his fingers through my hair to hold me still.

“No. Not tonight. That’s all going inside your pussy, do you hear me?”

I blink and smile at him shyly, certainly more demurely than I would outside the bedroom. In here, with him, my body wants him to control me because I trust him implicitly. He’s proven himself to be a good man. The best man. The man I love.

He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me onto his lap. I guide his cock to where it needs to go while he goes back to caressing and kissing my breasts.

“I want to be buried so deep inside you that I lose myself,” he rasps.

I seat myself around him, slide him in where he belongs. My muscles grip him so damn tight. He fits so perfectly, feels so good, we each might lose ourselves in the other.

“I never want to stop touching you as long as I live, sweetheart.”

I close my eyes and revel in his caresses while I move against him, pulling him in, then gripping him hard as I let him slide out. Every thrust is pure joy. Every touch, every kiss is heaven.

“Open your eyes and look down, Jane.”

When I do, I see what’s happening. I see the place where he ends and I begin, and I never want us to break apart.

Henry roars out his release, filling me with his warmth. We hold each other until he finishes, until I milk out every drop.

We ease back onto the mattress together, breathless, filled, but not entirely satisfied. He doesn’t know it but we’re going to do that again. A lot. Every night.

“We’re going to make a baby,” I say.

“Damn right,” he says, kissing my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, and my lips, then pulling me in close and tight. No matter how close, it’s never close enough.

“I love you so much, Henry.”

He reaches over to cup my face, then brushes my hair away. “You’re my angel that I’ve been waiting for my whole life, and I can’t wait to see how much better life can get with my Jane and our babies in it.”