No matter how deep his sickness ran, he still felt good to me, and I could never get enough of him. That was the only time we could connect like we used to. I needed to feel that again.
Slowly, Henry pushed and pulled himself in and out. He was watching my face. I bit my lip while I locked eyes with him.
He continued his slow torturous rhythm. I wanted more and more. He knew that I was craving more from him. He just wanted me to tell him.
“More,” I moaned. He smirked and began a quicker pace. Each thrust was harder than the last. I was popping my hips up, trying to get every inch of him.
“More,” I moaned again.
He began a punishing rhythm. His body pounded into mine, pushing us toward the end of the bed. He groaned, and topped it off with that sexy growl that I loved. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down. He gripped onto the end of the mattress, and he pounded himself so hard into me that I cried out, not caring how loud I was. The pain felt so good. I felt like I was releasing some anger and frustration. I wondered if Henry felt like that at times. My body was trembling. Out of nowhere, he stopped and I opened my eyes.
“No, I’m not done…” He slid off to the side of bed.
“Turn over,” he demanded, and I paused. “I said, turn over.” That was not my sweet loving Henry. His eyes were vacant, but I did as instructed. He pulled my hips toward him. “You want more?” he growled in my ear as he leaned over my body.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He pushed my back down with one hand, which tilted my hips just right, and slammed into me. I bit into the blankets, trying to stifle my cries.
“More?” he asked with a quiet growl.
“Yes.” He pulled out and slammed into me again.
“More?” he asked with venom. I looked back at him, and saw the hollowness in his eyes and his jaw was clenched.
“Yes! More. Please, give me more,” I said in frustration. I needed him. I needed to release. He held my hips firm in his hands and began repeatedly slamming into me.
I groaned in pleasure. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted to feel the pain…his pain. I reached down and ran my fingers over myself, enjoying all the sensations that were brewing deeply within.
“Oh, fuck…,” he growled.
He continued his onslaught and my body began to buck wildly under him. I furiously pulsated around him as he continued slamming into me. My body was screaming in agony, but it felt so goddamn good. I grabbed at the blankets again to muffle my cries.
“Fuuuuck…,” he groaned, and then he exploded in me. He stood there for a moment with his sweaty forehead resting on my back. His hands were on the mattress on either side of me with the blanket twisted in his fists as he was trying to catch his breath. Then he fell down on the bed, grabbing me and curling his body around mine.
I lay there in his arms and started to cry.
“Love…I’m sorry.” He tried to soothe me, but it wasn’t working. “I got carried away. I thought you wanted it like that.” His eyes were telling and his facial features had softened. He was baffled. He wiped the tears off my face. “Love, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I did. I wanted to feel some of your pain.” I buried my face into his chest and sobbed. He didn’t know what to say. “I wish I could take it away from you.”
“Jesus Christ, Elaina.” He held me tight, trying to comfort me. I felt his body shake. “I love you so much for saying that, but I never want you to feel my pain. Never.” His voice shook. He grabbed my face and made me look at him. “Do you understand me? Never!” He was angry, and in disbelief that I would do something like that. He held me for a long time before we heard a knock on the door.
“We’ll be out in a few,” I hollered. I sat up, and realized I was bleeding. His face went paler than normal.
“Jesus. I hurt you.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not! I went too far. Shit!” His face shifted from concerned to panic in the snap of a finger. His hands trembled as he jammed them into his hair. He was looking around for something for me to clean up with. He dressed quickly, then ran out into the living room where the supplies were.
When he came back in, his eyes were grayer than before. He handed me tissue and a selection of girly products.
“I’m not sure if this is what you need.” He stood in front of me, and I could see that he was terrified.
“It’s fine. Relax. Just sit and relax.” He sat down on the bed, but he was facing the wall and not me, for which I was thankful. Even though we had shared so much together, I didn’t want him watching me clean up.