Chasing After You | 18+ | ✓

40: mirabelle

Henry's lips on mine makes everything from this fucking day fade to background noise. It doesn't feel like we've spent over a month apart. That it's been radio silence since we ran into each other on my last day.

I convey all the hurt and anger I feel pressing my mouth harder against his much softer touch.

I don't want soft and gentle.

I want hard and catastrophic.

Henry and I are an impending disaster waiting to happen.

Or are we a disaster that's already happened?

Is this a bad idea? Probably. Actually, most definitely. But I can't help myself. He's here. He read the article I wrote where I pretty much poured my heart out. I don't care that Henry read it. He was going to read it at some point since there's no way Stacey doesn't publish it. She might ask for a few things to be changed such as telling fans to get over their judgements or root for a different team, but I'm okay with that.

I thread my hands through Henry's hair, pulling on it as he matches my need by pressing me against the wall. Nipping at his lower lip to get him to deepen the kiss further, Henry complies almost like he understands everything I need.

He understands everything except how much I need him in my life. If he understood that, then Henry never would have let me leave. He never would have let me walk out that door without chasing me. He wouldn't have walked away from me that day in the stadium.

I love this man so much that it hurt so much to be apart from him.

I feel tears slip down my cheeks and I feel Henry try to pull away from me, no doubt noticing that I'm crying.

I don't want to cry.

I'm so tired of crying.

I slip my hand down the front of Henry's shorts, wrapping my fingers around the length of him. He thankfully stops trying to pull away from me, moaning into my mouth as I slowly begin to pump my hand.

Henry is threatening to devour me, but I refuse, fighting back to maintain my control. He pulls away, dropping his head to my neck as I increase my speed, brushing my thumb over the pre-cum that helps offer more lubrication.

He presses his lips to my skin, releasing a low moan that puts all my nerves on edge. My heart thunders in my chest.

"Mon cœur," He says, his hips thrusting with my strokes. I tighten my grip and increase the pace for who knows how long until Henry lifts his head and turns it to capture my mouth again, bracing himself on the wall as his body trembles with the beginning of his release.

His eyes are hazy with lust as Henry tries to steady his heavy breathing. His hands move to the bottom of my shirt and I allow him to pull it off of me, his touch skimming over my torso and over the curves of my breasts. He pulls off his own shirt, the defined ridges of his abdomen showing from all his grueling work.

"Tu es belle." You're beautiful.

"Merci." I say, unable to break the eye contact but I do arch into him as he hooks his thumbs on my shorts to push them down into a pile on the ground

"I'm sorry." Henry says as my eyes flutter shut as his hand sneaks beneath my underwear, teasing me where I want him most.

I struggle to get my words out, my senses being overloaded. "I don't want to talk about today."

He kisses the curve of my neck gingerly before removing his fingers to pull me towards the bed, flipping us so he's on top of me. "I'm not talking about today. Do you have condoms in here?" He asks as my body aches for his touch again.