Blurred Lines - Henry Cavill

Part 1

Henry especifically told (Y/N) that he didn't do relationships. But lines get blurred. And crossed.

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As soon as I laid my eyes on him for the first time, I was hooked. Henry's intense blue eyes captivated me as no others ever did. His tall and thick stature, the way he carried himself, it oozed confidence and charm. I was immediately and irredeemably drawn to him.

And apparently it was mutual.

He warned me when we first started this arrangement. He warned me that he was no good in relationships, that he didn't do them and he made it abundantly clear that I shouldn't expect one. Because it would not happen.

At the beginning, we would just meet up and fuck. Fuck each other mercilessly. Fuck each other like we never fucked before. That's how he always was... intense. He'd ravage my body every single time. Worshipping every inch of it. After sex, he was always sweet and caring, but he never stayed longer. So, I didn't either. I knew my place.

It went on for months and months.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked me out. Not on date. Just out. It looked like a date, but he never labeled it, and I, knowing him the way I did, just knew that it wasn't meant like that.

I had to believe that. I couldn't let my mind even acknowledge the smallest possibility of being something more there. It'd ruin me.

That day, he took me to the beach. We talked and ate some snacks as we sat on a blanket, the waves crashing down on the sand a few feet ahead of us. We came back to his house, and we fucked.

A few days later, he invited me out again. This time, we went hiking. Once we reached the highest spot in the hill, I stood there taking in the beautiful view. Unexpectedly, he stepped in front of me and cradled my face in his hands gently. He quietly stared down at me for a minute, and it seemed like he was lost in thought, having an internal struggle. Suddenly, he snapped out of it and kissed me.

Yes. He kissed me. As in only a gentle, loving kiss. Not a desperate kiss trying to initiate sex. It was just a kiss.

When he pulled back, he stared at me, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I was mad blushing, I couldn't control it. I felt so weird, I didn't know what to do or say, or even think. My mind was all over the place.

Apparently he didn't have anything to say either. He pressed a light kiss to my forehead before he took my hand in his and stepped to my side, turning to face the landscape just as I was doing before. Then, we came back to his house, and we fucked. Again.

Yesterday, he asked me out again, and weirdly told me to wear a leather jacket, "maybe some jeans" - his own words - and comfy shoes. When I got to his home, he was waiting outside for me. Leaning against his red motorcycle, he was holding two helmets: his, and another one, that I assumed was mine. I shot him a confused smile as I took the helmet from him, and he limited to inform me that we were going for a drive.

The sun was about to start setting down, when he pulled over and turned the engine off. He offered me his hand for support as I got off the motorcycle, getting off after me and taking off his helmet. Meanwhile, I was struggling with mine, so he sighed and got closer, gently helping me take it out.

Once again, we found ourselves staring at each other intensely. And I was, yet again, a blushing mess. I had a feeling he loved having that effect on me, but he hid his emotions so well. It was almost impossible to figure him out.

Without warning, he captured my lips in between his. He pecked my lips softly, but when I responded to his kiss, he lost it. He pulled me closer, hooking an arm around my waist, and cupped my cheek with his rough hand. The kiss grew hotter, needier. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth, making me gasp in both surprise and excitement.