"I've made such a mess of things," I whisper, staring out over where I last saw Henry. Angie rubs my hand, seated beside me on the veranda. "I thought... I thought I could still be friends with him. I never thought-"
"Arnold was drunk, Mia. It's a rare occasion to see him like that... I never have."
I nod, looking down at my legs. "Henry must be so angry with me."
"Not you... no. I'm sure he's angry with himself."
I look at her, blinking. "Why?"
"Because Henry is a good man... he will find truth in Arnold's words." She sighs, taking ahold of my hand, looking radiant in the light. "I never told you... but I used to sleep with Arnold, it was a very casual thing. But for a time, I thought I loved him."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask after the initial embarrassment begins to wear off. I shake my head apologetically. I had imagined that to be the case when I first saw them together but since she pushed us together so much, I figured it was my imagination.
She smiles. "Because I wanted you to have a chance to be happy. I saw you and Henry first at Kensington and then at that gala... when you sang that song for him- you were mad for him. And I knew Arnie was mad for you... I never thought Henry could love the way he does now. When we were at the wedding, Royce was with him and Henry- was devastated, Mia. Like a man who knew he was making the biggest mistake of his life."
Oh, Henry. I feel emotional as tears begin to build at the corners of my eyes.
"He went to his brother and told him that he would not give up his heart for him. And he left I suppose, to get to you."
"We've cost each other so much," I whisper, wiping beneath my eyes as the tears fall down my cheeks.
"But you're happy."
I nod, sighing happily. "I am. He is. It was like a dream on that island, completely alone with no one but each other... I was so worried to come here, out in the open."
"The world is a harsh place. Royce and I have dealt with that fact for over five years now. In the beginning, I thought I'd never get through all the gossip surrounding him. I hate that... I began to resent him. It wasn't until I got sick with pneumonia and Royce literally stayed by my side the entire time, taking care of me that I realized resenting my situation would only destroy my- our- only chance for happiness. You and Henry will be fine, I promise. Just give this time. It's only been a few months."
"I know... He wants to give me so much," I confess. "He is so giving and I'm not sure what I can offer in return... except my love?"
"That's all he wants," she whispers, chuckling softly. "That's something he's never had... something he'll never tire of. Someone to love him for being the man he is, not the prince."
I smile, humming. Speaking to her is surprisingly therapeutic.
"I'm glad you came, despite everything... I wish you didn't have to leave in the morning."
She squeezes my hand once more. "We'll see one another soon, I'm sure of it."
...
Over an hour later, I'm closing my creamy satin robe, preparing to go downstairs to find Henry when the bedroom door opens. Henry walks in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Standing in the middle of the room, frozen, I wait trying to decipher his mood.
I expect him to speak but he doesn't. He walks to the closet, removing his shirt.
"Henry, I'm sorry," I utter, uncomfortably after a moment too long of silence.
He discards his shirt into the laundry. "It's fine. I'm fine," is all he says, before disappearing into the bathroom. I close my eyes, sighing with regret when the door shuts behind him. Damn it.
I'm contemplating my next move, whether it's to the bed or through that door carefully, when it opens, swinging wide. Still in only his slacks, Henry charges from the small room angrily and doesn't stop until his hands are fisting into my hair passionately, his mouth crushing to mine, roughly. Whoa. I fall back a step, gasping against his lips. His tongue is driven, demanding- completely intoxicating. He pulls back with a gasp, but doesn't go even a few inches from my face. His eyes are hard, full of fury, yet I can also see the pain, the wanting. I can see everything. All of his emotions and boy, it's intimidating.
"You are mine, Mia," he snaps. "Mine. No one else's."
I nod. "You know this."
"He kissed you," he breathes, as if he's still in disbelief. "Without your consent... I still want to kill him."
"Be with me," I answer, running my hands over his chest, nervously. "Let us forget everything."
My fingers spread over his throat into his soft hair. He inhales deeply as I pull his head back and his own fingers slacken, falling down to his sides. His eyes, still angry, stare at me as I gaze at his features, unable to find a single flaw. I press up against him, leaning down to graze my lips over his throat slowly, letting my tongue glide along his skin.
"Fuck," he breathes and I feel his posture slacken. He's hard as a rock against me already. I pull back enough to look at him as I press my free hand against his tight pants.
"His words mean nothing," I whisper. "They mean nothing to me. There's no where I'd rather be than here."
He moans and gains movement into his arms, which quickly reach for my robe. Our fingers seem to work into double time from there as we tear each others clothes off. Literally, what is remaining of my nightgown drops onto the floor beside his clothing.
He clasps my breast, taking over quickly as we move backwards towards the bed. I fall back and he climbs above me, devouring my mouth deeply. I moan as his lips begin to trail down over my jaw, covering the length of my heaving torso until his tongue is tickling my navel. I feel my body shiver as his hands grip my thighs, pulling them open.
Unable to help it, my eyes roll backward into my skull when his tongue slowly glides through my sex, tasting my evident arousal. My fingers find their way into his unruly hair, pulling without reservation as his mouth closes over my clitoris, suckling gently.
"F-fuck," I gasp, as if to myself while my hips unabashedly grind upwards into his mouth, desperately. He inserts two fingers into me, spreading me open to him, thrusting them deep, on a mission to give me the fastest orgasm of my life. It's working. His fingers twist and turn, reaching the spot inside of me that immediately has me crying out, begging him not to stop. Despite my pulling, he is determined and undeterred.
He means to make me forget there is anyone under this roof but him. And he's done it. As I cry out, trembling violently as I'm pushed over the top, I can hardly remember my own name. He doesn't stop until I'm pushing him away, too sensitive to touch.
"Henry," I hum, euphorically. This definitely wasn't the way I expected this night to go. But I'm damn glad for it. My arms thrust forward, clasping his shoulders as he moves up to my face. His lips are warm and wet against mine, and taste like me. His hand travels down over my side, over my hip before I feel him effortlessly push me over onto my stomach.
I land with a thud, hands spread out onto the bed beside my head. I smile, feeling him come above me from behind, teeth grazing my shoulder as he thrusts into me, hard. My fingers clench the cover tightly, pulling as he grasps my hips with one hand, resting his other hand over mine.
"You're going to come," he whispers by my ear heatedly, "all night. You're going to feel my cock, my tongue inside of you all night because we belong together and no damn person can tell me otherwise."
I shiver, having never heard him like this before. My teeth grind together, and I tilt my face back enough to try and look at him. His eyes are dilated and fierce, sweat running slowly down over his large chest as he drives into me with vigor. I've never seen anything more magnificent.
"There's no one but you," I utter, spurring him on. He leans forward, taking my lips with force before we break apart gasping. I turn my face back towards the bed, moaning as he drives into me deep, so deep. I can hardly breathe sometimes.
He withdraws from me within seconds, leaving me deprived before he turns me once again, pulling me up onto him. I move quickly, desperately onto his lap, straddling him. Our foreheads meet, his arms wrapped around my back tightly as I sink onto him, taking his cock to the hilt.
"Oh fuck," I moan as my head drops back, my arms wrapped around his shoulder. His tongue runs over my exposed throat, making every hair on my body stand on edge. "You're so good. So good," I praise.
"I love you," he whispers against my neck as I begin to move up and down, building a rhythm with his help. The sound of his pleasured moans make me tremble, wanting to make this last as long as I can.
"I love you too," I answer, wishing he could know how much.
We move against one another, completely caught up in each others touch. Suddenly, he grasps my face, looking up at me, his large blue eyes so much clearer than before.
"I'm in love with you," he repeats, with emphasis. He says it like it's the first time I've ever heard him say it. It feels like the first time, somehow. I don't know how he does it. I clasp his face, so we're but inches apart.
"I'm in love with you, Henry."
We kiss softly, briefly before I clasp his arms, beginning to move again, so close to ecstasy I can almost taste it. But he shakes his head, running his hands down my back slowly, exploring.
"I want to make love to you now," he whispers, nuzzling his nose against my cheek gently. I close my eyes, falling into his slow pace with ease, giving into the love he's exuding now. Somehow, the angry man I fell into bed with is gone, replaced by the man that left his country for me. The Henry I love more than anything.
We come undone together silently, grips tight, bodies tense, mouths barely touching. I open my eyes slowly, coming back to reality at the same time he does. We stare for a long time, our hands running over our sensitive skin.
We bare our souls, then.