Chapter 2

F OR ALL THE TIME that Philomena and Henry had spent together, they had somehow been lucky enough to never even be close to scandal. Although, come to think of it, they weren’t often really and truly alone , alone. There was usually some friend or family member around. Edwin, Philomena’s brother and Henry’s good friend, was often at hand. If not Edwin, then Paulina. And if not family, then someone. Someone. Someone was usually around. Only…that someone was never a someone that was about to find them in a scandalous situation that would warrant a marriage proposal.

“Quick, duck.” Henry dragged her to the floor, coin in hand, to lie hidden behind the desk. Only, he didn’t have time or space to lie beside her. The chair was too close to the window and there was only room for one body to be supine on the floor. The other body—his, to be precise—was on all fours, straddling her. Straddling her fine form which, just to reiterate, was lying delectably beneath his.

There was not enough air for Philomena to breathe. There was not enough blood for Philomena to pump. There were not enough words for Philomena to think.

Henry was inches from her face, his expression half panic, half natural grin, as if he were enjoying this position.

Well, she was not enjoying this position. It was too blazing torturous.

And then the voices that were once behind the door came into the room. And she could tell, without even looking at them, just hearing their giggles—yes, two adults giggling—that they were two besotted fools.

The man’s voice said, “We should be safe in here.” The lock on the door clicked.

“I know you’ll keep me safe anywhere we go.”

Henry peered at Philomena, two blinks closer to a chuckle.

Don’t laugh , she mouthed.

I can’t help it, he mouthed back.

Help it , she replied inaudibly. And she hoped she was giving him her most stern look. Though she didn’t feel stern. She felt…tight. And hot. Heat was starting to traipse across her thighs, where his legs burned into hers. And it wasn’t stopping at her thighs. It was going all the way to her center. To the places only she had ever explored.

There was significantly less talking—or rather, less interpretable talking—and a lot more…groaning. Philomena blinked. Long. Really, she had just closed her eyes. Groaning? What the blazes were they doing?

She knew. She just didn’t want to accept that it was happening six feet away. Even twenty feet away were too few.

A small brush against her shoulder interrupted her long blink.

Henry was mouthing something at her. But instead of being able to read his lips this time, she could only focus on those gentle lips. Lips that had shared silly secrets, notable achievements, and trivial details about his day. Best friend lips, they were. And they were mouthing something again.

Didn’t he realize what he was doing to her? She wanted to scowl at him. Perhaps she had scowled at him because he was leaning down to whisper into her ear whatever he had been trying to say.

“Are you all right?” The words…formed a question he had asked her innumerable times over the years, and yet now they branded her. This time he was so close. His breath was soft and warm. No, that’s how a whisper should have felt. But this one was harsh and hot. It was searing through her. Inch by smoldering inch. And then she was smoking. She was pretty sure of that fact because something was seeping out of her core.

She had been all right, or close enough to it, a moment ago. But now…now she was melting wax.

She was definitely not all right. Not even half all right. So she shook her head. Afraid to speak. Afraid to move her tongue. Truthfully, that was her biggest fear at this point. Her tongue. It was restless and she had no idea why. How could she answer him? No, I’m not all right. I’m being deliciously tormented by my hopes and dreams. They are literally touching me, in so many good ways right now, yet they are still out of reach.

Well, it was that…or, what? What were her options? She shook her head again.

He leaned down to scorch her for a second time. “It’ll be over soon. I promise.” She could feel him smiling. Was he amused? She didn’t care. She focused only on his words.

She wanted to trust him. But…she almost didn’t want him to be right.

***

HENRY WASN’T SURE IF he wanted to be right or wrong about his promise. On the one hand, he didn’t want to be made out to be a liar. On the other hand, well, his other hand was nicely tucked against Philomena’s rib cage. And he couldn’t say he was disappointed about that. In fact, he really only had nice things to say about it.

Really nice things.

And he wanted to whisper some of those really nice things into Philomena’s ear again because when he did, his nose brushed against her cheek. And that was another thing he had really nice things to say about.

“You smell good.” Those were the nice words that popped out first. His chest was pressed against her buxomness. When she heard the words, her sharp intake of breath dragged her heavy bosom up and down his chest, and he could feel her pebbled nipples digging into him. The sensation flared straight to his groin.

Her breathing sped up, and so did the gentle friction against his own nipples. And with each rapid breath, he was rapidly losing his sense of logic. Logic may as well have been a coin from a country that he had yet to find.

“You feel good, too.” Those were the next nice words out of his mouth. Though one could surely argue their niceness on a spectrum of nice and naughty.

“Henry.” His name swelled from her lips.

He had never wished to be staring at her lips more than at that moment, but currently his lips were attached to her ear.

“Henry,” she moaned again.

“Shh …” He didn’t want to quiet her. He wanted…well, he kind of wanted to hear how loud he could get her to be.

But the third time she moaned his name, “Henry,” was a plea.

He couldn’t deny her request. He pressed his throbbing member against her core. When he did so, she lifted her chin and arched her breasts up into the air. By that point, he had to see what he had been missing. And the reward was magnificent. Lifting his head, he found her creamy white mounds pushed into the air, straining at the bodice.

He groaned. “You look so good.”

Her hands gripped his flexed forearms. He wanted them higher. And lower. He couldn’t decide. Everywhere was enough.

The couple in the library were moaning together. The woman let out a squeal. “Harder,” she hissed. Then she commanded, “Deeper. I need you deeper. Uhh…”

The couple’s panting was driving Henry insane. He couldn’t be sure what it was doing to Philomena, but her body was giving him some indication.

He nudged his nose against the top of her bodice, and he felt her tremble. He licked across one delectable white mound and then the other.

“You taste too good, Philomena.”

“Then…keep…licking.” Her panting aroused him further.

If he thought he had been hard before, he was a beam of steel now. His little Philomena asking him for more pushed him over the edge. He leveraged his tongue to get under her bodice in search of her nipple.

One of her hands flew to her breasts, and momentarily he thought she was going to swat him away. Unexpectedly, she pulled down on her dress and pushed up on her breast. So of course he did what any obliging gentleman with a raging erection would do, and he sucked as much of her voluptuous tit into his mouth as he could.

He felt her legs soften, and he rocked into her. Her whimpers clamored into his breeches.

“Pull up your skirts, Mina.” The shock of his words rippled through him and out of her body. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m thinking.” He started to shake his head.

“Do it, Henry. I want it.” Slowly she pulled up her skirts for him.

“I just…I just want you to feel…”

Philomena tilted her head toward the rutting couple, and he chuckled. “Something like that.”

When she nodded, he repositioned himself against her with his breeches as a layer protecting them. If he had found that coin of logic, he would have realized that there was no protection available for what he was about to do.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “But…”

If she didn’t want to do it, he would stop. He’d be damn well disappointed, but he would stop.

“But…don’t stop…this.” She pointed to her exposed breasts.

“I couldn’t stop if I tried.” That was a lie of course but perhaps closer to the truth than he knew.

Still fully clothed, he slowly pushed his throbbing member between her folds. She caught his movement and absorbed him. The heat soaked him even before her wetness could. He was going to have to change after this. The intention was to give her pleasure but within one minute of glorious friction, he realized he wasn’t going to last.

She moaned again.

“I love your sounds.” He thrust against her. “You sound…so…good.” He chuckled unexpectedly. “I need to hear more.” He took her other breast in his mouth, licking, lapping, laving her creamy skin. When he sucked on her, tugging gently, she released a deep moan.

“Shh, my little goddess,” he whispered but then he tugged again. Her fingers dug into his skull as he slid himself up and down her wet cunny.

He could feel her body tightening. There was no explanation for it, but he was desperate to see her face when he made her come. Stealing a glance up at her face with her tit still in his mouth, he saw she was studying him with delight, curiosity, and perhaps even disbelief. He watched her face wince and then go lax.

Her breast in his mouth, her hands in his hair, and her quim folded around him, but it was her onyx eyes that were his undoing. Wetness pooled in his small clothes.

Henry looked down at her gorgeous breasts and then back up to her lips. She had the most luscious peach-colored and heart-shaped lips.

And then he realized that they hadn’t even kissed.