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A faintly audible melody wakes me from my peaceful sleep. The music is slow and almost gloomy, and it evokes feelings in me that stand in odd contrast to the sensations that had a firm hold on me earlier this night. It makes me wonder if the things from my vivid memories really happened or if it was just a dream. I slowly open my eyes to take in my surroundings. It's dark, but I'm undeniably still in Henry's bed. I turn around and find the other side empty. 

When I get up, my pleasantly aching muscles remind me it wasn't just a dream; my intimate encounter with the man who's occupied my thoughts for so long did happen. I stretch and yawn before I grab Henry's shirt from the chair next to the bed and button it up on my way to the source of music. 

I enter the open living area and catch sight of a bare-chested Henry sitting at his piano, which makes my heart skip a couple of beats. A small lamp behind him bathes the corner of the room in a soft glow and makes him look even more beautiful despite the serious expression on his face. He's deep in thought while playing this melancholic piece, and I wonder if our conversation about his dad still bothers him. Suddenly he looks up, and our eyes meet. He stops playing and smiles at me. "Hey, Sweets. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay; don't worry about it. Don't stop playing; that was beautiful." I walk up to him and sit down on the piano stool as he scoots over.  

He leans in with this sexy smile on his lips. "You are beautiful. I love that glow on your face," he whispers before he brushes his mouth over mine, instantly starting another party in my lower abdomen.  

"Why are you up?" I ask him.  

He sighs and lowers his gaze. "I couldn't sleep. You made me think."  

"About your dad?"  

He nods and rests his fingers on the piano keys without moving them.  

I lean against him and turn my head to place a soft kiss on his shoulder. "Please, play some more," I breathe on his skin. "What song was that just now?" 

He buries his nose in my hair and inhales deeply. "Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata," he murmurs. "That was my first favorite song. Playing or listening to it always calms me down." 

He kisses my temple before he resumes playing. I watch how his gifted fingers make the most beautiful yet saddest music. I close my eyes and let the emotions draw me in – the melancholy and the passion. I feel every rise and fall in intensity, and I take in every note, imagining his fingers caressing my body like they caress the piano keys. A small sigh escapes me, and the music stops.

I open my eyes and meet Henry's hungry gaze, but instantly, my gaze drops to his mouth, and I bite my lower lip. With a deep and sexy moan, he puts his hand on my cheek and runs his thumb over my lips. With another sigh, I lean into his touch. A pleasant shiver runs down my spine, and my lower abdomen is already yearning for more.  

Henry runs his other hand up my thigh until he reaches the hem of the shirt. His face comes closer until his mouth is only inches away from mine. He breathes on my lips, "What are you wearing underneath that shirt?"  

A subtle smile plays on my lips. "Why don't you find out?"  

He starts unbuttoning the shirt with the hand that was on my cheek while his other hand lingers on my thigh, sending heatwave after heatwave through my body. I wet my lips in eager anticipation of his kiss, but he just fixates on my mouth. My breathing quickens, and my chest rises high, and with every breath, my breast brushes his hand.  

He keeps unbuttoning the shirt agonizingly slow. When he's finally done, he gets up from the stool and pulls me up with him. He puts his hands on my waist and turns me so that I face him. Slowly he moves his hands up along my sides, under the shirt, and then lets it slide off my shoulders.  

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