If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)

Chapter 50: Working It Out

It was a hard push to the end.

Henry had a working lunch doing voice work, which was a sign that the end of production was nearing. This suits you just fine, meaning that you can wait for Stella to finish lunch and be done for the day.

You take her to the spot where you work out with Brock, who you would be meeting there later on anyway.

"Beautiful, but you work out here?" Stella asks, looking around. "It looks romantic."

"I guess, when I'm not climbing trees and swinging from them."

Her eyes went wide. "No!"

You start laughing at her. "Yes!"

"But why?" She asks. "Don't get me wrong, he's got a Greystoke look about him, but—"

"He just believes in using what is around, I think," you shrug at her.

"How's Henry doing with all this?"

"Henry..." you moaned softly as you knelt on the couch, your hands on the armrest. Your body was still tingling and catching small chills from the paths his tongue had licked on your skin, the tension pooling at your core and pulsing with need. You arched as he ran his hands over your body in gentle but firm glides. Your breath quickened as he firmly grasped your hip and plunged deep. "Henry!" you cried out, only for him to withdraw and thrust harder. You moaned as he rotated his hips, and then arched with a gasp as he slapped your backside. He began a piston-like steady rhythm, the collision of your bodies sounding magnified to your ears. And just like that, he stripped away your control, just like that he had you moaning and trembling. He milked moans and cries from you as your thighs became wet with surrender, helpless as you rocked back and forth on him, his hand on your shoulder, the other still on your hip. "Uuhhnn...."

"That's it, love," he growled, pounding you steadily as you arched, your hips shuddering in his grasp and sex quivering around his thickening rod. "Ohh I love it when you do that!"

"I think he is okay," you sigh, blinking yourself out of the memory. Since discovering your training with Brock, he'd become more passionate and possessive of late. He surprised you with these intense half hour quickies that left you a gasping and trembling mass of nerves. And he always spooned and kissed you after, his hold firm, his broad chest warm against your back, his hips cradling yours. On nights like that you slept when he did and didn't work after his early bedtime. You tried to figure out a pattern for it, when he does it and why, but there doesn't seem to be one that you can see.

"Be careful," Stella said softly. "I mean, those are two guys...hot guys...kinda fighting in their own way for your attention."

"Not Brock," you chuckle. "I am so not on that guy's radar."

"Then why did he offer to train you?"

"We're from the same country?" you guessed. "We both have down time? We both believe in exercising and working out?"

"So why not pursue a different woman?"

"Maybe he has someone back home, I dunno," you shrug. "Maybe his nights aren't so lonely, Stella."

"Hmmm," she lifts her eyebrow at me. "or maybe he likes seeing Henry squirm a little?"

"Ha! Henry is not squirming." You grab your bottle. "Thanks for the refill." You rise to go.

"No problem," she shrugs, giving you the don't say I didn't warn you look.

You frown at her, and shake your head, then laugh, "Everything is fine."

"Famous last words," Stella wags her finger.

You walk in the woods toward your spot, and find it quiet...too quiet. "Shit." You slow your steps, and start taking in whatever information around you that you can: No birds. Someone's here or someplace that you shouldn't be. Most small animals in the wood ignore you now. You turn just in time to see Brock come from behind a tree. "Brock-!"