Chapter 62: Made Up & Claimed on the Sofa

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: Made Up & Claimed on the Sofa

He paused, gently holding Elisha’s hand.

"After our argument yesterday, I called my mother and told her everything. I complained about moving into your house, and honestly, I thought she would take my side. I thought she would understand why I wanted to keep things the way they were and support my decision."

Elisha listened quietly.

"Instead, she really gave me a piece of her mind," Henry said, a faint, embarrassed smile appearing on his face. "She told me I was being ridiculous and asked how I could agree to marry you but refuse to live with my own husband. She reminded me that she had moved in with my father when they got married, so she couldn’t understand why I was making such a big deal out of it."

Henry paused, his fingers gently tightening around Elisha’s hand.

"She said a lot to me, babe. She even told me that if I couldn’t accept moving in with you, then maybe we should call off the wedding. At first, I was shocked that she would even say that, but the more I thought about everything she told me, the more I realized she was right. I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to end our wedding. I want us to be together. I want to marry you and build our life together."

"I wasn’t refusing because I didn’t want to be with you. I’ve just been so used to living alone that the thought of leaving my house and changing my routine scared me. I was thinking too much about what I would have to give up instead of thinking about the life we’re about to build together."

"I understand that now. I want to come home to you, babe. I want us to start our life together, and I don’t want my fear of change to get in the way of that."

"I’m really sorry, Elisha. I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want a life with you. I love you, and I want to be your husband. I hope you can forgive me."

Elisha let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The tension that had been sitting in his shoulders finally eased, and a soft smile touched his lips.

"It’s okay, pretty," Elisha murmured, his voice warm with affection. "I wasn’t truly angry. I was just confused at first. I couldn’t understand why you would agree to marry me and then refuse to live under the same roof. But I understand now. I’ve known you all these years, and I know how much you’re used to having your own space. You’ve always preferred staying at your place and having me come over instead."

He reached up and gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from Henry’s forehead.

"I’ve always come over without complaining because I love you. But things are different between us now. We’re not just best friends anymore. We’re building a life together. I hope you’ll try to adjust to these little changes, but I won’t force you. I’ll be patient with you, and we’ll figure everything out together."

Henry’s eyes softened with relief. "Thank you, babe."

Elisha leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. When he pulled back, a playful smile appeared on his face.

"Now... what can I offer you? Let me get you something."

Henry raised an eyebrow, the teasing look returning to his face. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course," Elisha said, gesturing toward the office. "I just have a few things left to finish, but I can have Sarah bring something in. What do you want? Coffee, juice, water, or something else?"

Henry tilted his head, his eyes briefly dropping to Elisha’s lips before meeting his gaze. "Can I have more?"

Elisha blinked. "More of what?"

Henry leaned slightly closer, his gaze dropping to Elisha’s lips before meeting his eyes again. "More of you?" he whispered. "Can I kiss you?"

Elisha’s breath caught, and a warm thrill ran through him. A slow smile spread across his lips. "I’m entirely yours, pretty. You never have to ask."

Henry smiled back. Without another word, he shifted closer to Elisha, then pushed himself up from the sofa. He turned toward Elisha and carefully climbed onto his lap, settling across his thighs.

Elisha reacted on instinct, his hands sliding down to grip Henry firmly by the waist and the curve of his hips, holding him close. As Henry leaned in, Elisha let his head fall back against the plush sofa, exposing the line of his throat.

Henry leaned down and captured Elisha’s lips.

The kiss was slow, deep, and impossibly tender, filled with quiet apology and overwhelming relief. His hands moved with careful gentleness, sliding up Elisha’s chest to the lapels of his suit jacket. With deliberate, unhurried motions, Henry unbuttoned the jacket and pushed it from Elisha’s shoulders, then worked open the first two buttons of his crisp dress shirt, revealing the warm skin of his neck.

He lowered his head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss over Elisha’s pulse point. His lips trailed upward, nipping gently at the sensitive skin just beneath Elisha’s ear, drawing a low, appreciative shudder from him.

Elisha’s hands moved up Henry’s back. He gently guided Henry backward, shifting their positions until Henry was lying comfortably on the sofa.

He hovered over him, braced on his elbows, looking down into Henry’s eyes. He pressed a reverent kiss to Henry’s forehead, then traced the slope of his brow before descending.

Slowly, Elisha began unbuttoning Henry’s shirt, parting the fabric to reveal the smooth expanse of his chest. The air in the private office grew thick and heavy, charged with sudden heat.

Elisha leaned down and pressed a scorching, open-mouthed kiss to the center of Henry’s chest. He took his time, trailing his lips upward along the column of Henry’s throat, tasting the salt of his skin, before lingering at his earlobe and sucking gently until Henry let out a soft, breathless moan.

Drifting lower, Elisha’s tongue traced a slow, wet path down to Henry’s collarbone, then further still. When his mouth closed over Henry’s sensitive nipple, suckling gently while grazing it with his teeth, Henry’s back arched off the sofa with a sharp gasp.

"Ah... baby—" Henry breathed, fingers tangling into Elisha’s hair and pulling him closer as his hips bucked instinctively against him.

Elisha’s tongue continued to work over the sensitive nipple, swirling and flicking, while his free hand slid down and rested over the front of Henry’s trousers. Through the fabric he rubbed his palm firmly along the length of Henry’s growing erection until he felt it harden completely beneath his touch.

Slowly pulling back, Elisha hovered inches from Henry’s face, his breath hot against his skin as he moved his lips to Henry’s ear. "Do I have your permission to go ahead?"

Henry’s chest heaved. His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded with desire as he nodded. "Yes, babe... please."

Elisha’s hand moved to the button and zipper of Henry’s trousers, sliding them open. He pressed his lips close to Henry’s ear again and whispered, "Let’s go inside my office suite. It’s more comfortable."

Henry shook his head, a stubborn, reckless heat flashing in his eyes. "I want it right here."

"You always moan so loudly, Henry," Elisha murmured, a fond but warning edge in his voice. "People will hear you."

"So what?" Henry retorted, breathless and defiant. "I’m not sleeping with someone else’s husband or girlfriend. I’m sleeping with my man. So what if they hear me? I don’t care."

"I care," Elisha corrected gently, though a possessive thrill spiked through him. "I don’t want anyone else seeing your body. It’s mine... and mine alone."

"But nobody will come inside your office without your permission," Henry said.

Elisha pulled Henry’s stiff, heavy arousal free from his trousers, but before he could do anything else, a sudden thought struck him. He pulled away, stood up, and strode quickly to the heavy office door, turning the deadbolt with a sharp click.

"No one will come in," he muttered, turning back with a dark, intense look in his eyes. "But my mother can occasionally walk in without knocking, and there is no way in hell I’m letting anyone—not even her—catch even a glimpse of your body."

Henry propped himself up on his elbows, a wicked, pleased smile curving his lips. "Are you that possessive of me?"

"Yes," Elisha answered without hesitation, his voice dropping an octave as he closed the distance between them again. "I’m very, very possessive of you."

He reached down, gripped Henry by the hips, and drew him up onto his knees. Guiding him toward the edge of the plush leather sofa, Elisha murmured, "Hold onto the top of the sofa."

Henry didn’t hesitate. He gripped the sleek, padded top of the sofa, leaned forward, and pushed his hips back eagerly, silently offering himself while waiting for his husband-to-be to claim him completely.

Elisha’s hands settled firmly on Henry’s hips. He pulled Henry’s trousers the rest of the way down, fully exposing the curve of his ass, then held him steady. For a moment he simply looked, at the smooth line of Henry’s back, the way he offered himself so openly, the quiet trust in the posture.

Then he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the base of Henry’s spine before trailing his lips higher. One hand slid around to stroke Henry’s cock in long, deliberate pulls. With the other, Elisha brought his fingers to his mouth, wetting them thoroughly with his tongue until they were slick with saliva.

He brought his slick fingers between Henry’s cheeks, circling the tight entrance with careful pressure.

"Relax for me," Elisha murmured, voice low and rough with restraint. "I’ve got you."

Henry exhaled shakily, pushing back against the touch as Elisha slowly pressed one finger inside, then a second, working him open with patient, thorough strokes. Every small sound Henry made only tightened the heat coiling in Elisha’s gut.

When he felt Henry was ready, Elisha withdrew his fingers, slicked himself thoroughly, and lined up the thick head of his cock against Henry’s entrance.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he said quietly.

Henry’s reply was immediate, breathless.

"I want all of you. Don’t hold back."

Elisha pushed forward slowly...