Chapter 53

53

* H enry's POV*

I wake up with a web of scarlet hair tangled over my face, shining like fire in the morning sun. I'm on my side with Isla tucked into my shoulder, her forehead pressed to my chest. She's such a tiny thing. It makes me worry about tonight. I'm wavering between fear that I'll hurt her and the absolute burning need that's been scorching my insides since the moment I met her. I lightly trace the freckles on her cheek with my thumb, rocked by the realization that I would do anything for this tiny, prickly, snoring creature. And I do mean anything. I push myself up on my elbow, trying not to disturb her. Swinging my legs over, I straddle her calves with my knees as I slowly slide my arm from beneath her. I freeze as she shifts in her sleep, mumbling something, then sighing. She's so fucking beautiful that it makes my heart hurt. I replace my body with a pillow and tuck the covers around her before tiptoeing out of the room.

Today has to be perfect, and every perfect day begins with a good breakfast. At least that's what I'm telling myself right now. I start the coffee first, then rummage around the kitchen, filling my backpack with everything I need before scrawling a quick note for Isla, filling the thermos with coffee, and heading down to the beach.

Forty minutes later, I have a fire going on the sand, and everything is laid out and ready to go. The second I see her silhouette high on the cliff, I put the griddle over the fire, heating it until it's smoking before laying out six strips of bacon. Next, I dip the bread Dylan made the other night into an egg mixture, coating it well before tossing it on the griddle. I don't add the eggs until I flip the bacon and French toast, careful not to overcook them. I'm plating the food just as Isla steps onto the beach.

"Perfect timing," I murmur, grinning up at her as I slide her eggs onto the plate and hand it to her.

"Good morning to you, too." She takes her plate and, not waiting for me to stand, wraps her arms around my neck, burying my face in her breasts. I breathe her in like an absolute maniac, my mouth watering at the thought of pulling one of those perfect nipples into my mouth. She pulls away, takes the fork I hand her, and plops down on the sand, moaning as she takes her first bite.

"You didn't need to do this, but I'm not complaining. You cook a damn good breakfast, Henry."

"I'm glad you think so since I'm going to cook breakfasts for you for the rest of your life." I chuckle as she raises an eyebrow as if she's expecting a proposal right here and now. And hell, maybe I should. It's not like I haven't been thinking about it since I saw her behind the bar last year. No other woman has even crossed my mind since then.

I take her left hand and hold it up to the morning light, admiring the ring that somehow mirrors her personality. "He did good, didn't he?"

"Did you notice the prongs that look like thorns?" she asks, eyes sparkling. I take a closer look, and sure enough, the prongs are sharp little claws clasping a stone the same color as her eyes.

"It couldn't be more perfect, could it?" I pull her hand to my mouth, kissing her ring finger. "Finish up before it gets cold," I say, picking up my plate and taking a gigantic bite. I pour a mug of coffee from the travel thermos, and we share it as we stare out at the waves, the tranquility of the morning muffling everything but right this moment.

"Thank you, Henry," she whispers, the softness of her voice barely breaking the silence. "This is incredibly romantic."

"What's romantic is you and me rolling around on this beach," I mutter under my breath. I grunt as her body slams into me, taking me by surprise. She tries to push me down, but I hold her beneath me, pinning her down with my hips, her wrists locked over her head.

"You're fast," she laughs, chest heaving. I watch the way her shirt stretches across her breasts with every breath, those perky nipples begging for attention.

Her soft 'please' is all the permission I need. I wrench her shirt up to her neck, growling deep in my throat when I realize she doesn't have a bra on.

"God damn it, Isla. You're absolute perfection." The last word is muffled as I close my mouth over the tip of one breast, circling her nipple with my tongue before drawing it in deep. She moans, her body arching, reaching for me, demanding more. I move my way up to her mouth, unable to resist drinking in the sweet moans flowing from her soft lips. She tastes like sunshine and maple syrup, with the slight bitterness of coffee, and I'm obsessed. I grab her chin, coaxing her mouth wider, delving into her heat with rough strokes of my tongue. The second I release her wrists, she wraps her arms around my neck, drawing me closer until I'm sure we'll sink through the sand to the other side of the earth. I groan into her mouth when she starts rocking her hips against mine, the heat between her legs like the Bermuda triangle. I know once I go there, there's no going back.

I can't fucking wait.

"I need to cool down before I combust," I pant, climbing off her, holding my hands out to help her up. She rolls her eyes and pouts, but I'm used to it by now. Staying in control for both of us hasn't been easy. There have been so many times where I've wanted to say fuck it and bury myself nine inches deep. I take a deep breath, willing my cock to settle down .

"Are you okay?" she asks, looking up at me with bright eyes, her cheeks pink, lips swollen from kissing.

"No."

"We could–"

"No, Isla."

She lifts her shirt, flashing her tits, before flipping me the bird and running like her life depends on it. I chase her up a dune and into the grass, tackling her to the ground, and rip off her shorts and panties. My head is buried between her legs before she has time to process what's happening. I groan against her pussy lips. She's already wet and so fucking sweet. The sound of the waves swallow up her cries as I devour her, licking, nipping, and biting until she's a squirming mess. Until her body is straining toward my mouth, every cell yearning for what only I can give her. I push up her shirt, palming her breast, worshipping the only woman I'll ever want for the rest of my life.

"Come for me, baby," I murmur, lapping up her juices before sealing my mouth to her clit and sucking. She scrapes her nails over my scalp, clenching her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer. I slide two fingers deep inside, and she explodes, soft skin and lithe muscle spasming beneath me, around me. I keep up the rhythm and then slowly ease her down, resting my cheek against the soft skin of her inner thigh, breathing hard.

"I could do that forever. I swear to god," I pant, my pulse pounding, demanding more.

"You have me forever if forever is what you want, Henry," she says, licking her lips, her color high in her cheeks.

"If?" I throw my head back and laugh, standing and lifting her into my arms. " If was never part of the equation, baby girl. Do you know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that?" She shrieks as I carry her across the beach and wade into the water, trying to climb my body to escape the waves. Neither of us is ready for the shock of cold water, but I know we both need to cool the fuck off. If I'm not careful today, all of my plans will go to crap, and I'll be buried deep inside her in a gas station bathroom. I only have to stay in control for 12 more hours. I can do this.

I think.