“If you want my cock in your mouth, honey, all you have to do is ask,” he fires back, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his sculpted shoulders. He’s wearing nothing except briefs that hug his muscular thighs, the bulge he’s sporting visible through the fabric.

He grabs the plate of cake, breaking off a small piece and bringing it to my mouth. “Open up.”

We’ve done this dance before, in his kitchen with the cookies. We had more clothes on then, and I almost didn’t survive.

Tonight doesn’t bode well for me either.

Like last time, I tilt forward a few inches to get closer to the spoon, my mouth wrapping around the utensil. I swallow the delicious bite, blinking up at Henry though my eyelashes.

He hums. “How does it taste?”

“Delicious. Chocolate cake is one of my favorites.”

“I’m going to need a full list of your dessert preferences ranked in order, one of these days. How are your arms doing?” he asks, bringing another spoonful to my parted mouth.

I greedily eat the bite, shrugging one shoulder. “They’d be better if I could touch you.”

“Bring them down. You did great.”

I blush as the praise fills me up. My limbs relax and I shift into Henry’s lap, arms wrapping around his waist. “What does it say about me if I missed you the minute you were gone? Before I wouldn’t notice if we went three days without speaking or seeing each other. I’m the most independent person in the world. But now? Now… it’s like everything gets darker when you’re not here.” The admission is soft. I’m not afraid to share the truth, but something about saying it tonight makes it more profound. Powerful. Lasting.

Henry buries his face into the crook of my neck. “I missed you, too. With you I feel… complete. Whole. Like something has been missing from my life and I just didn’t know what it was. Until you. I’ve never… I don’t…”

He’s struggling to find the words of a deep confession to me, and I hug him tight, understanding how difficult it is to verbalize a thought like that when you’re so used to being alone. “I know.”

“As much as I love seeing you in this outfit, I think I’d prefer you naked,” he says, playing with the straps of my top.

“Take it off, then,” I dare him. In a flash, he has me on my back, pinned under his weight, the tenderness from his admissions evaporating.