Henry stiffened, very noticeably.

I'd have mistaken him for becoming a mannequin if his hard-on wasn't pressed so firmly against my butt.

And by hard-on… I meant hard.

I pushed further back, and he sucked in a deep breath, muttering a quiet,

‘sweet Jesus’

“Henry, is everything—”

“Don't.” He deadpanned, suddenly.

I froze.

“Don't move, Rosie.”

“Why?” I said, doing the opposite… as I rolled my hips more.

His fingers gripped my waist, holding me in place.

Fuck.

I felt moisture between my thighs.

Didn't he know this was turning me on more?

I glanced at him from over my shoulder, and his eyes met mine.

The intensity behind it...