Free Disarm by June Gray Page B

salty taste of him, the feel of his velvety skin against my tongue. I had dreamed of doing this very thing to him for months, but the reality was so much better.
    He tensed and pulled away abruptly, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me up and off the bed. He kissed me as he peeled the clothes away from my body with ferocity.
    Then he spun me around and bent me over the bed, and I felt his member nudging at me a second before he slammed into me.
    I gave a shout at the exquisite invasion, at his forceful gesture. This was not a man who wanted gentleness. Henry was a man deprived; he wanted everything all at once and he wasn’t going to be polite about it.
    The thought sent a bolt of excitement through me, the implicit understanding of safety mixed with the promise of danger.
    His fingers wound in my hair and pulled back, twisting my head around so he could kiss me. That simple gesture was so unlike him that it drove me wilder, made me buck against him in an effort to get more of this hungry male.
    In all our years knowing each other, I never would have thought Henry had this in him, this aggressiveness, and, admittedly, it was really turning me on.
    He curled over me and positioned one hand between my legs, his fingers massaging my clit rapidly as he pounded into me from behind. It didn’t take long before I was coming, screaming into the quilt as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, his fingers still moving, wresting every ounce of pleasure out of me. Henry clutched me against his chest and hammered into me one last time before he went rigid, groaning his release against the back of my neck.
    We collapsed on the bed, his mass a pleasant weight on me, like an anchor keeping me in place. But all too soon, he pushed up with his arms and planted kisses on my back as he slowly pulled out.
    When I came back from the bathroom, he was lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head and a satisfied look on his face. He gathered me into his side and let out a long sigh as I wrapped an arm around his waist.
    â€œIt’s good to have you home,” I whispered, my breath ruffling the dark hairs on his chest.
    â€œIt’s good to be home,” he said, kissing my head. “You have no idea how many times I dreamed of doing that to you, pounding you on the bed like that.”
    My face flushed at how uninhibited I had been and how much I had liked it. “What else did you dream about?”
    â€œThat was it,” he said evasively, then jumped out of bed. “Hey, I have gifts for you.” He came back with one duffel bag and started rummaging inside. He laid a few things on the bed and sat down beside it. “Here’s one,” he said, handing me a dark blue rock. “The stone is lapis lazuli and came from a mine in the Badakhshan province of Afghanistan.”
    I flipped the smooth stone over in my palm. “Thank you.”
    â€œIt’s to replace that pebble you gave me before I went off to college,” he said.
    â€œI remember that beach pebble,” I said. “Whatever happened to it?”
    â€œI lost it,” he said, looking abashed. “Or rather, my roommate in college threw it out.”
    I made an indignant noise as he handed me a piece of pink fabric, folded up into a small square. I unfolded what turned out to be a scarf, admiring the intricate gold thread designs, and was surprised to find a small pouch nestled inside. I pulled out a pair of violet-blue earrings and a matching necklace. “Out of the same kind of stone?” I asked, slipping on the teardrop-shaped earrings.
    â€œYes. The vendor told me that Cleopatra’s eye shadow was made out of ground lapis lazuli.” He slipped the necklace around my neck, which was a thick chain with a three-teardrop design. His eyes took me in for a long while before he finally said, “Blue is your color.”
    I smiled. “Like the color of your eyes.” I held his gaze, wishing I