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You opened your eyes, stirring at the sound of the door to the hotel suite closing. Kal sat up from his position at your feet, ears immediately alert. He jumped to the floor and issued his, by now, recognisable Henry bark, disappearing.
Stretching, languidly, you yawned and glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. Henry had been to a movie premiere. Sometimes, you went with him, but you’d had a lot of work on recently and you hadn’t been able to find the energy to get dolled up and walk the red carpet. Henry had offered to stay with you, but you’d rather he didn’t let a friend down, especially as you’d already flown over here.
He called your name from the little seating area and you heard the clink of him chucking his keys on the table, the thunk of boots coming off, the muttering as he greeted Kal.
“Sweetheart?”
You sat up in bed, letting the sheets pool around your waist. You were naked, and when Henry appeared in the doorway, you saw his blue, blue eyes go hot at the sight of all that skin on show. He leaned against the doorjamb, bow tie undone and laying on his crisp white shirt, midnight black tuxedo jacket casually open. His hair was ruffled from the evening’s exertions.
“How was the film?” you asked.
A quicksilver grin crossed his face. “It would have been far easier to pay attention if some little minx hadn’t texted me naughty pictures halfway through.”
You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. “I wonder who that could have been.” You imagined him feeling a text come through, checking his phone, smiling at seeing your name. Then a very different reaction when he sees what you’ve sent.
“I think we both know what’s going to happen to you now,” Henry said, his voice dropping an octave, giving his tone a very Geralt feel. You liked that. He slid the bow tie from around his neck and held it out. “Hands, sweetheart.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Kal settle down at the other end of the suite, tail thumping lazily, happy to have both his humans nearby again.
You held out both hands obediently and Henry tied your wrists together with the silky material of the tux’s bow tie. You lay back, hands above your head.
“Well,” you smiled, “look at me.”
“Look at you,” he agreed, his voice a bit raspy, gaze lingering on your naked form.”
“Quite helpless,” you added coyly.
He chuckled, because you were anything but. You could easily have broken the bonds, but you chose not to. Chose to play the game, to submit.
Henry shrugged off his suit jacket and let it fall to the floor. You watched him lazily in the low lamplight from the suite’s seating area. The glow from it kissed his face of planes and angles, highlighted the play of muscle under his white dress shirt.
He was unspeakably gorgeous.
Your mouth watered as he undid one button at a time and you clenched your hands into fists, wanting to touch the dark hair curling on his chest.
“C’mere,” you pleaded.
Henry let the shirt fall from his shoulders. “Do you know how long the second half of the film felt, knowing you were here, naked, waiting for me?”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh.
“It was interminable .”
You did laugh then, and apparently that broke Henry’s patience, because he ended the striptease and quickly divested himself of trousers, underwear and socks, and you had a second to admire the lean, hard lines of his frankly, shit-hot body, before he lay down on top of you, fitting himself perfectly between your legs.
You spread them automatically, sighing in bliss when he lined himself up right there where you needed him-
And then he sat up and smiled at you.
“You cannot be serious,” you moaned.
“Oh sweetheart, I am.” He lay down again, and you tensed in anticipation, but he only lavished butterfly kisses on your stomach, your hips, and the inside of each of your thighs, kissing every single place but where you were wet for him. “I-” he nipped at your inner thigh “had-” then his mouth ghosted over your clit “to wait-” and then he hovered just out of reach “hours.”
“Oh, God,” you groaned, regretting your naughty little texts. Your internal muscles clenched desperately.
“Fortunately,” he continued in that sinful baritone, “I’m in a generous mood.” And he put that clever tongue to good work, drawing the little circles on your clit that drove you to the brink of madness. You bucked against his face as he held your thighs still, feasting on you. You watched his thick, curly thatch of hair, wanting to touch it, but also wanting to trust him. He’d tied you up, after all, he wanted to play this game, and you wanted to let him.
He curled his tongue in just the right way, once, then twice, and your orgasm shot through you like the brightest of fireworks. You sobbed his name as he stroked you through the aftershocks, then he finally, finally, laid his body over yours. You hooked your legs around his hips, anchoring him to you.
“No escape,” you threatened.
But he only laughed, kissing you, and you tasted yourself on his lips. “Because obviously, all I want is to escape my soft, naked wife.”
You smiled against his mouth, sighing his name in the way he loved as he positioned himself, and slid into you, slowly, slowly, until he was sheathed to the hilt. His soft “ fuck , sweetheart” was music to your ears and you broke the bow tie bond to hold him close to you, one hand around his neck and the other sunk deep into his tangle of dark curls.
He thrust into you lazily at first, then faster as he built a good rhythm. Never one to not pull your weight, you lifted your hips to meet his eager thrusts, both of you gasping at the peaking pleasure.
You wanted his hands on your breasts so you took control, rolling your bodies so you sat astride him. The angle pushed him deeper into you, hitting that spot, and you grabbed his hands, filling them with your breasts as he pounded into you, his head thrown back, neck arched, and you looked at his closed eyes and the hard line of his mouth as he neared orgasm, and you had never seen a more beautiful man in your life.
He groaned your name just as you started to convulse around him, and you came together, Henry’s hands gripping your hips hard enough to the leave indentations, and you loved that feeling, the knowing that you were his, and he was yours, and you could weather anything, as long as you were together.
You slid bonelessly down on top of Henry, using his chest as a pillow, one hand lazily stroking his chest hair.
“You like it when I send you dirty texts, then?” you asked, a bit shyly.
Henry huffed, but you heard the smile in his voice when he replied, “Don’t make a habit of it. Have you ever tried to watch a serious, arty film entirely in Swedish, with a hard on?”
You laughed, and he laughed with you, and then he drew the sheet up over you both. The last thing you knew was Kal leaping up to join you on the bed, before the sound of Henry’s heartbeat under your ear lulled you to sleep.