Finding You, Looking for Me: A Henry Cavill FanFic

Part 26: You've Made Your Bed...

I sipped on my Irish cream and coffee. I was wearing his dark green sweatshirt, a pair of black cotton panties, and an exhausted, yet satisfied expression. A delightful ache pulsed through my body. My eyes fixated on our bedroom window, watching the trees and shrubs sway in the wind.

I heard Henry humming a tune to himself while he puttered about the kitchen. I imagined he was feeling quite self-satisfied. Our day had consisted of sex—and not much else. The sound of his voice from only moments before, echoed in my mind as I sat in our bed, nested within our blankets.

"I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop," he had hissed into my ear. But I never begged him to stop. I moaned, screamed, cried, begged for forgiveness, professed my unending love for him, and prayed to God aloud that he never left me, all while he fucked me relentlessly.

"I love you," I whispered to Henry—he couldn't hear me and I was alone in the bedroom, but I wanted to say it aloud.

"Tell me!" he demanded. He held the back of my head down onto his hardness. I gagged, tears streaming down my face. He held my head there, while I watched him with big eyes, kneeling at his feet with him pushed far back into my throat. His blue eyes burned with contempt. "Tell me, Sarah."

I blinked and tried to speak, nothing coherent coming out due to him blocking my windpipe.

"Try harder, Sarah!"

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled. He thrust himself further into my throat—gagging me in the process.

I shook the thoughts away. We had never had sex like that before. It was as if he was punishing me or rather humiliating me—like he thought I had humiliated him. I felt filthy. But it felt so good.

My phone rang on the bedside table. It was a private number. I had been receiving private phone calls regularly since the day after my indiscretion. I pressed the red button and ignored the call again.

I heard Henry approaching the bedroom. He padded into the room on bare feet, wearing a black t-shirt, with gym shorts on. His hair was wild—I had spent the day writhing beneath him, my hands pulling at his hair. He had a fork in his hand, with some tasty looking morsel speared to it.

"You have to try this," he told me excitedly. Without hesitating, I let out an "Ahhh!" and he immediately thrust the fork into my open mouth. I chewed on a tender piece of beef, closing my eyes and reveling in its deliciousness. "Right?" he nodded, smiling.

"Mmmm," I cooed. "That's amazing. Did you make that yourself?" I asked him.

He leaned close to my face, smiling and nodding enthusiastically. "Yes," he told me, sounding very proud of himself.

I grabbed both sides of his face and planted a kiss on his lips. "You're the most talented man on earth, baby," I told him.

"Yeah?"

I nodded at him, excitedly. "Oh, definitely. Your talents have me sore and barely able to walk today. And you can cook." I smiled widely, laughing at my own joke.

He laughed, too. "Barely able to walk?" he asked. "Well then, I'll need to work harder next time."

My phone began to ring again. I pulled away and reached for the bedside table. It was another private call—I declined it.

"Who was that?" Henry asked me.

I shook my head. "Private number," I shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're going to find yourself in hot water again, my love."