#also my apologies to sophie getting a different color every time. it kept changing it for only her for some reason and i couldn't fix it

[vickyvicarious]

Leverage by Character Emphasis

So, for fun over the course of my rewatch I kept track of who I considered to be the main character of each episode, or rather who got the most narrative/emotional focus. I kept track of all those in a list here. I got curious about how it all stacks up in the end, so I went to a pie graph website and stuck all those numbers in.

I only used the main character in each episode, even if on my original list I had put it as having secondary emphasis on another person or relationship. However, if an episode was split pretty evenly in focus between just two people (as opposed to the whole team), I counted it towards each person's overall percentage. And of course all these stats are based off of my own personal interpretation of the episodes. So this is by no means truly comprehensive. But I think it's still interesting to look at all put together.

I'm putting the overall breakdown here, but below the cut I've got individual charts per season as well - plus a bonus list of how many people we meet that the team already knows/whose past they hail from.

All Seasons

Percentage breakdown:

Team - 36.9% or 31/77 total episodes

Nate - 17.9% or 15/77 total episodes

Parker - 16.7% or 14/77 total episodes

Eliot - 11.9% or 10/77 total episodes

Hardison - 7.1% or 6/77 total episodes

Sophie - 4.8% or 4/77 total episodes

Parker/Hardison - 2.4% or 2/77 total episodes

Sophie/Nate, Tara - 1.2% or 1/77 total episodes each

The show is primarily team-based, and that's reflected in the largest percentage by with a 19-point gap before second place. Nate holds that spot, though Parker is right on his heels in third. There's a bit more of a gap between them both and Eliot, then similar gaps between him and Hardison, and then Sophie as the team member with the least number of dedicated episodes. (However, this doesn't reflect a lot of time spent in S2 on her). Then the pairings and Tara each get just an episode or two spent primarily focused on them.

Looking at it in pure numbers, you can definitely see that Nate as mastermind got a lot of attention, and that Parker becoming the next mastermind was built steadily with a lot of focus as well!

Season One

Percentage breakdown:

Team - 38.5% overall or 5/13 episodes

Nate - 23.1% overall or 3/13 episodes

Parker - 15.4% overall or 2/13 episodes

Sophie, Eliot, Hardison - 7.7% overall or 1/13 episodes each

It seems fitting that in the first season, most of the time was dedicated to episodes that don't focus on any one person in particular. Instead there's a lot of time spent establishing the team as a whole. We do see Nate in second place and Parker in third.

(I thought about counting the Juror #6 job towards Sophie and Hardison, but in the end I didn't since the main emphasis was still mostly for Parker. However, that would have bumped them up to the same number of episodes as her.)

Season Two

Percentage breakdown:

Team - 40% overall or 6/15 episodes

Nate - 26.7% overall or 4/15 episodes

Sophie, Parker, Hardison, Eliot, Tara - 6.7% overall or 1/15 episodes each

So there's a lot more secondary focus/running themes this season that don't show up as much in this chart. Sophie's storyline in particular gets a lot of focus throughout the season, but is rarely the main focus of any single episode, so it isn't as well represented here. (For example, the Lost Heir Job is team-focused, but specifically on the team coping without Sophie, so it could possible have been counted as a Sophie episode as well.)

Given the parameters I'm working with though, we see again team episodes first, Nate second, and then this time everyone else shares third place equally (including Tara!).

Season Three

Percentage breakdown:

Team, Eliot, Parker - 25% overall or 4/16 episodes

Sophie, Nate, Hardison - 6.7% overall or 2/16 episodes

It doesn't add up to 16 just by numbers because this season had several episodes I couldn't assign to just one character, but also seemed not really focused on the team. I gave Eliot+Hardison each a point for Gone Fishin', and Eliot+Parker each a point for the Underground Job.

This season bucks the trend of Nate getting the second-most episodes dedicated to him. Eliot and Parker actually get as many episodes as the team in general. They're all a lot closer together though in terms of numbers.

Season Four

Percentage breakdown:

Team - 27.3% overall or 6/18 episodes

Nate - 22.7% overall or 5/18 episodes

Parker - 18.2% overall or 4/18 episodes

Eliot, Hardison, Parker/Hardison - 9.1% overall or 2/18 episodes each

Sophie/Nate - 4.5% overall or 1/18 episodes

This season has a lot of episodes focusing mostly on just a couple of people so it was really a pain to break down. I ended up sharing credit for Grave Danger between Parker and Hardison as Parker/Hardison, and Queen's Gambit between the team and Parker/Hardison. The Night Out Jobs I just counted as team episodes since they divvied up the focus fairly equally between the characters who were in them. On my original list I put the Hot Potato Job as Nate and Hardison but on further reflection I think it's more of a team episode, so that's how I counted it here. Still, this chart is the one I was least certain how to break down, and I'm not really happy with it but I eventually just kinda gave up.

Nate is back up in second place, right after the team as a whole. Parker's right behind him, while the others trail a bit behind. The ships get a couple episodes dedicated to them, but Sophie doesn't actually get an episode of her own at all this season.

Season Five

Percentage breakdown:

Team - 62.5% or 10/15 episodes total

Parker - 18.8% or 3/15 episodes total

Eliot - 12.5% or 2/15 episodes total

Nate - 6.3% or 1/15 episodes total

I attributed the French Connection Job to both Eliot and Parker, and put the Rundown and Frame Up Jobs as being team focused since they split attention pretty evenly between the halves of the team each episode had. The White Rabbit Job had a secondary focus on Sophie which I didn't count; same deal with the Blue Line Job since for the most part it was still more team than Eliot focused.

This season bucks a lot of the usual trends. The vast majority of the episodes are team focused with no major emphasis on any one person; this is usually the biggest percentage but this season far more so than any other. The other major departure is that Sophie and Hardison both get no individual episodes at all, and Nate isn't in second or even third place. Instead we have Parker, then Eliot, then Nate. And if I had counted the Blue Line Job for Eliot, which I considered doing, he would've been tied with Parker.

Bonus - Known Associates

This chart counts how many people we meet from someone on the team's pre-show past. It does not count people they meet during their time on Leverage who later become important to them, such as Peggy.

Percentage breakdown:

Nate - 38.1% or 8/21 total

Eliot - 33.3% or 7/21 total

Sophie - 19% or 4/21 total

Parker, Hardison - 4.8% or 1/21 total each

If you want to know who these people are, that's listed right underneath here. Nate's people tend to show up more often, while Eliot has a lot but they're mostly one-off characters. Sophie and Parker not having a lot makes sense given that Sophie's true identity is a mystery, and Parker was a loner almost all her life. Hardison being at the bottom of the list is really at odds to how we know he has a large family and is such a sociable person.

Nate - An old friend in the Miracle Job, Blackpoole, Maggie, Sterling, the people from McRory's, Jimmy Ford, childhood friend Ed Kelly from the 15 Minutes Job, his old IYS colleague from the Van Gogh Job.

Eliot - Aimee from the Two Horse Job, Damien Moreau, General Flores, Vance, his grifter buddy from the Juror #6 Job, his buddy Shelley from the Boys' Night Out Job, and Vance from flashbacks/the Rundown Job.

Sophie - A friend in the Wedding Job (not sure they actually count since they just tipped her to the job but I don't think we met them onscreen), the mastermind from the Two Live Crew Job, the Duchess from the King George Job, and Tara.

Parker - Archie Goodwin.

Hardison - Chaos.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Scantily Clad {One Shot}**

Henry Cavill x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Dominant Behavior, SMUUUUUT, NSFW, Mildly Rough Sex

Words: 4.5k

Summary: Reader is going to an event with Henry, and this is what she decides to wear. Henry isn't happy about it at all. He puts his foot down, but the reader is stubborn and plays the feminist card and still chooses to wear it.

Note: A little HC action for you guys, it has been a while and I miss him. As always, thank you guys for reading, I appreciate you guy so much!!!

If you enjoyed this please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.  ❤️❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

“Y/N, are you ready yet? We’re going to be late, darling,” Henry shouted from downstairs in the foyer of his London flat.

 “Ten minutes, babe, I promise.”

 He sighed and checked his watch for the eighth time in the last twenty minutes. You’d told him ten minutes twenty minutes ago. He should have been used to this. You’d been together for almost two years and engaged for four months, and in all that time, this was not the first time you’d taken forever and a day to get ready. He sat in the lounge chair in the foyer and pulled out to phone to answer some emails. He knew that he wouldn’t be getting to any work for the rest of the night, thanks to the event he was going to. That was if you ever came downstairs.

 He’d left you in the bedroom forty minutes ago doing your make up and hair. He always loved watching you get ready. It was like a show of you getting done up before the show of him undoing you. He always watched and planned how he’d do it, where he’d start, and by the time he’d formulated a plan, he was always aroused. He also knew that you knew when he was watching. You’d make it a point to make eye contact with him at several points in your process. When you painted your lips with your chosen lip color, you’d lock eyes with him. When you sucked your cheeks in to apply whatever product it was to your cheeks, you stared into his eyes. You knew just what you were doing.

 Tonight wasn’t any different. He watched you put one side of your hair up to showcase that gorgeous décolletage and had to restrain himself from going to you to pepper kisses along your skin. The look in your eyes said you wanted him to do it too. When he couldn’t handle watching the golden glow of your skin any longer, he retreated to his office to do a little work. Glancing at his watch again, he groaned, but it was then he heard the upstairs bedroom door close.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you shouted from upstairs.

 He stood, buttoned his tux jacket, and adjusted his cuffs in prep to leave. The clink of your heels coming down the marbled stairs had him looking up with a smile to watch. What he saw not only took his breath away, shocked him, and annoyed him, but it also confused him. You descended the stairs in a metallic gunmetal grey type gown that incredibly left little to the imagination. As you came down the remaining steps, his eyes darted to every place your skin peeked through.

 “I’m here, see I told you ten minutes.” You stopped in front of him, showing him up close just what you’d decided to wear tonight. He heard your voice, but it was mumbled. None of your words were making it to his consciousness. He was too lost in your dress.

 “Henry!”

Snapping his head up to your face, he wanted to say something about how beautiful you looked, but something else came out.

 “What’s wrong, baby?” Your voice was full of concern as you reached for him, but he stepped back.

 “What are you wearing?”

 You reared your head back and gave him a confused look.

 “What? It’s a dress. It goes perfectly with your bow tie. Come on, we’re going to be late,” you answered before you walked to the mirror in the foyer, giving him the view of the equally revealing back.

 “Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going dressed like that?”

 That was when you spun around with the look he knew well that said he was acting like a wanker.

 “Excuse me?”

 “I can see—everything, Y/N.”

 “You’re exaggerating it’s not that bad,” you defended.

 “Not that bad?” He approached you and touched the slab of fabric that hugged your breast. “This looks like if you bent down and stood, your breast will be out. Not to mention, it gives the perfect imprint of your breasts, giving the world an adequate size measurement.”

 “You’re kidding right, Henry?”

 “No. Then look at this split. Why is it so high? Your entire thigh and hip are showing. Are you wearing knickers?”

 “Wow, of course, I’m wearing underwear. Who do you think I am?”

 “I thought I knew, but look at how you’re dressed. You have to go change,” he finished in the voice that said his decision was final.

 You snorted then laughed loudly. This was not the time to provoke him, he thought.

 “I don’t know who you think you are or even who you think I am that I’d let any man dictate what I wear, especially when it is appropriate enough,” you contested as you brushed past him walking to the front door.

 “Y/N!” It was his dominating tone. You stopped in your tracks straightened your back and turned to him.

 “You may dominate me in that bedroom upstairs, but that is the only thing you dominate me in. Just because you fuck me until I’m weak does not mean that you control me, Henry. Never make that mistake, and if it’s a meek little mouse you want, then maybe you should rethink this ring on my finger. I’ll be in the car when you’re done throwing a tantrum like a little boy.”

 With that, you walked out the door, leaving it open. He stood there trying to get a grasp on his anger not only from your outfit but for what you’d just said. This was going to be a long night, he thought as he followed you out the door.

 The drive was a quiet one, you kept your face turned to your side, gazing out at London as it passed, and you kept your legs crossed with your exposed thigh over the other. He knew it was you playing it up, rubbing your defiance in his face. He fell in love with you because of your independence, your determination to be your own woman, and make your own decision and not let any man control your life or destiny. It was a big turn on. Yes, you’d butt heads a few times in your relationship because of his and your equal stubbornness, but it was nothing that you couldn’t overcome and come back from stronger than ever.

 Fifteen minutes into the ride, his anger dissipated and left way for him to feel the regret for his words, and it also allowed your words to affect him fully. They hurt. You knew what buttons to push, and he hated it. Every time he thought to open his mouth to say something, he swallowed the words. He knew the only thing to say was that he was sorry, but he was not ready to apologize. Part of him wasn’t sorry. The dress was revealing. He knew every man there would be gawking at you and imagining you naked or worse. He also knew if he saw the looks he’d flip out. Still, he knew he couldn’t leave things this bad. When the car stopped, and the driver got out, he took his leap.

 “Y/N,” he softly began.

 “Stop. If the words out your mouth aren’t, I’m sorry, then save it, and we both know you’re not sorry.” You looked at him, and he knew you wanted him to correct you and apologize. It was then he decided to concede. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose before he spoke.

 “I’m sorry.”

 You look confused and surprised, but you didn’t speak. You looked as if you were waiting for something. He should have left it there.

 “But--,” you scoffed and shook your head.

 “Apologies don’t have but, Henry,” you said as you knocked on the glass. His door opened immediately, but he didn’t move, he just stared at you.

 “Y/N,” he softly pleaded.

 “Don’t worry baby once we step out of this car we will be the perfect couple,” you said with a smile painted on your face.

That was what he was afraid of, the façade. He sighed and got out of the car, and painted his own fake smile on. It was time to play a role. As he walked around the car, he waved and smiled until he opened your door and helped you out. When you stood beside him, you smiled and waved also. The two of you walked the carpet together, waving, smiling, stopping for brief interviews all the while never giving a thing away. When you were asked about your dress and complimented by countless photographers and comrades, you politely thanked them and showed it off turning at every angle. He knew it was a huge bugger off to him.

 When you walked inside the event space, you leaned to his ear. “See, it was a hit.” Your eyes were cold. This was revenge now, he thought.

  -Y/N-

 As the night went on, what was supposed to be a gala slash networking event for the who was who in Entertainment to rub elbows, chat, brag, and get together for recognition, you decided to use to teach your fiancé a lesson. You could not believe Henry’s audacity to assume he could dictate how you dressed. You knew he was possessive and could be downright controlling sometimes, but you’d never experienced it to this extent. The dress you were wearing wasn’t even that bad. You’d seen far worse.

 As Henry mingled around the room and turned on his British charm with everyone he came across, you did the same. You knew some of the people in his circle, particularly the wives of some of his friends, and that was what you found yourself in, a circle of wives.

 “I love your dress,” Elizabeth, Armie’s wife, complimented.

 “Thank you. I love yours.”

 “You have a body to die for, I’m so jealous,” Sophie, Benedict’s wife, added.

 You smiled your thanks, trying to stave off the wave of embarrassment that washed over you. You appreciated the compliments, but from anyone but Henry, they always made you self-conscious.

 “Y/N, right?”

Looking to your left, you saw someone you knew well. “Theo?”

 His smile was wide before he pulled you in for a hug. “What’re you doing here?”

 “Work, but nevermind that. You look incredible.”

 Theo looked you up and down as you fanned him off. “Stop, it’s just a dress.”

 “A dress you look incredible in, we told her,” Elizabeth pressed.

 “Theo, this is Elizabeth and Sophie.”

 He shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries before all four of you talked about simple things like the event, and the weather. When Sophie and Elizabeth excused themselves, it left you and Theo alone.

 “Here alone, or is Henry around here somewhere?”

 “You know he’s here,” you confirmed.

 “Eh, was that a slight bit of annoyance I detect? Come to regret your decision to move here or marry him?”

 “Theo,” you warned.

 He smiled and shrugged. You’d been friends for the last four or so years but never anything else despite what your other friends liked to tease. Neither of you had ever made a move, and it suit you fine. You enjoyed his company even though he liked to tease Henry a lot. He always said he was so stuffy and could stand to loosen up a bit. You always teased him that it was a British thing knowing full well he was also British. It wasn’t funny to him when you did it, though.

 The two of you caught up and joked before a few other actors came to join you. Before long, you were enthralled in conversation with all of them. You told stories that had each and every one of them laughing and hanging on the end of every word. Though you were fully invested in the conversation, you always knew where Henry was. When you looked at him, you always found his eyes on you. He didn’t look as if he cared about anything that was being said. He looked like he wanted to be near you, he probably did, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

 You moved around the room, mingling with Theo by your side. Every man that approached you had Henry looking at you. You could feel his eyes on you, could feel the sheer commanding power that he held. His presence was strong and always affected you.

 “Why is he over there looking at you as if he wished he could come over when he can? Did you have a fight?”

 “Doesn’t matter,” you said as you finished your glass of champagne.

 “What happened?”

 Ignoring Theo, you sat at the table. After a few moments, Theo realized you weren’t going to answer, so he sat beside you and asked again.

 “It’s not important. He just overreacted about my dress.”

 Theo once again looked you over, then took a sip from his glass. “Ah, the stick in the mud thought it was too revealing.”

 “Stick in the mud. Stop.”

 “He’s not entirely wrong.” Your head snapped to him and gave him an incredulous look.

 “Are you serious?”

 “Don’t shoot the messenger. It is revealing.”

 You looked over yourself then back to Theo. “Nothing is showing but a little leg.”

 “Yes. Think about it, Y/N. We get it. You’re an independent woman; you’re all about doing what you want and not having anyone control you. We get it. We love that about you. No one is debating your independence or amazingness. As a bloke, we don’t want our girlfriends ogled or even thought about inappropriately. Though gorgeous, this dress invites all of that. I’ve spotted at least fifteen gents outright checking you out.”

 Glancing around, you caught a few eyes that quickly looked away. So what, you thought.

 “Theo,” you began. He knew what was coming.

 “I get it. I’m just giving you the perspective of a man that’s not sleeping with you.”

 You sighed and nodded, deciding against speaking. What was the purpose? It was then Henry approached with a tight jaw clearing his throat.

 “Hey man,” Theo began before he stood, making way for Henry to take his place in the seat.

 “Good evening,” Henry muttered as he shook Theo’s outstretched hand. You almost laughed looking at Theo’s face.

 “Have a good night you two lovebirds,” Theo said before he walked away.

 Henry sat beside you and placed a fresh glass of champagne before you. As the two of you drank in silence, you began to think if Theo had a point. You knew the dress was sexy, but you didn’t think it was anything to get angry about. You also knew that in a relationship, you had to consider the other person’s feelings. On top of being angry about Henry’s reaction, you were also a little hurt. You’d expected him to say you looked beautiful, but he still had yet to even say it or anything remotely loving.

 “Y/N,” Henry began turning his face to meet your eyes that were already on him. He didn’t speak, though. Instead, his eyes looked to bore into you as they always did. Staring at him was a love-hate thing. You loved it because they were gorgeous, but you hated it because they were powerful and always left you feeling powerless.

 Before either of you could say anything, the lights dimmed, and a speaker appeared before the room. The rest of the night passed in a blur of speeches, applause, champagne, and chatter, none of which included you and Henry talking.

 When you got home, you were the one to climb the steps to the bedroom first. When you got to the third step, you felt Henry’s hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you. You didn’t turn around to face him, though. It wasn’t long until you felt his chest against your back.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispered before his forehead dropped to your exposed shoulder.

 “I was an utter asshole. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to control you, I promise. There is no excuse.”

 His words hung in the air. They felt good to hear. You were tired of this entire situation.

 “I’m a jealous man, and even worse possessive and dominating. I should never have said what I did. Instead, I should have told you how incredible you looked, how beautiful you are.”

 You turned to face him and searched his eyes.

 “I should have told you that every chance I got. I’m sorry,” Henry finished.

 “I’m sorry,” you began before taking a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean it.”

 Henry smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “Of course, you did.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your laugher. He knew you too well.

 “I deserved it. It hurt, but I deserved it.”

 “You did.”

 “Do you forgive me?”

 You pretended as if you had to think about it on a serious note playing up the amount of time it was taking. Henry smiled but didn’t look bothered, he kissed your jaw and trailed kisses along it up to your ear. You ate it up. When his lips dropped to your neck, you let out a soft moan.

 “Am I forgiven, love?” A soft nibble at your neck had you grabbing at his waist that held zero percent fat. The man was built like a God.

 “I forgive you.”

 As soon as the words were out, Henry crushed his lips to yours, taking control of a soul-sucking kiss. You’d wanted this all night no matter how angry you were with him you always wanted to be near him. Henry wrapped his arm around you cupping your backside, pulling you flush against him. As his lips teasingly moved across yours, his tongue swirled around yours until he was sucking it. You couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t mind or care.

 Abruptly henry pulled his lips from yours and groaned. “I’ll lock up. You go ahead.”

 Once inside your bedroom, you walked into the closet to find something to put on once you’d finished your shower. You didn’t hear when Henry walked in, but you felt his hand at the nape of your neck.

“I have a love-hate relationship with this dress, my love. On the one hand, you look incredible in it, but on the other hand—it infuriates me.”

 You smirked, looking at him in the mirror, making sure he saw that you didn’t care.

 “What’re you going to do about it?” His smirk sly, and his eyes were dark. You knew the look well.

 In seconds Henry had ripped your dress in half starting at your sternum. You gasped loudly.

 “Henry! Do you know how much this cost?” He didn’t stop, though; he finished his handiwork with a faint smile.

 “I don’t give a shit. It should be burned instead of ripped.” The material fell from your breasts before it slid down the rest of your body, leaving you in your skimpy thong.

 “Huh, so you were wearing knickers after all,” Henry teased before he locked eyes with you and ripped those as well.

 “Henry!”

 “You love saying my name, don’t you?” He bit your neck as his hands cupped your breasts and fondled to his heart’s content.

 As he sucked and bit your neck, you could feel his thick length harden against your ass. He pushed you forcefully, so you were bent over the piece of furniture that held your undergarments. The movement sent your ass poking out for him. A lite slap across your ass had you flinging your head back to give his free hand something to hold onto. As he held your thick, coiled hair, he dropped another slap across your ass; only this one was a lot harder. Your groan was mixed with a moan that told him you liked it enough for him to do it again--so he did, three more times. By the time he’d finished, you were soaking and more than ready to receive the gift that was him.

 “Do you want it?” Your eyes met again in the mirror, and you thought to be defiant, but there was no time. You desperately wanted to feel him filling you, stretching you to capacity.

 “I can’t hear you, love.” Henry dropped his fingers to slide up along your slit. As he did, he groaned. You knew he could feel your wetness, and he was more than ready to dive in.

 “You’re only punishing yourself, darling. The sooner you say the words, the sooner you’ll get what you want—what you crave,” Henry whispered in your ear, making sure his lips grazed your ear.

“And what do I crave, Mr. Cavill?” Again, he smirked that dubious smirk of his that made your belly flip from anticipation.

 “You and I both know you want this cock filling you to the hilt. All you have to do is--,” Henry circled his finger at your opening, coating his finger with your juices before bringing his finger to his lips to suck it clean, stealing your breath in the process.

 “Mmm. Say the words, my love.” His voice was so deep, so husky you could feel everything he felt. You knew he needed you just as badly as you needed him. Still, your stubbornness persisted. You were testing him, knowing damn well the longer you defied him, the further your eyes would roll to the back of your head. He knew what you were doing, but you also knew he was holding on by a thread. It was obvious.

 “Y/N,” Henry warned through clenched teeth. Your smile was the fuel to make his fire rage. Henry’s hand tightened in your hair, bringing your head back a little more. “It’ll only be worse for you.” You could hear him undo the zipper of his pants, and your anxiousness got the better of you. You pushed back onto him brushing your bare ass against him. Henry groaned then slapped it again. A few seconds later, you felt him rub the tip of his need across your sex. Your eyes lulled closed as a shiver erupted through you.

 “Do—you—want—me?” Every pause had him dipping just a sliver of his length into your tight cavern. He knew it wouldn’t be enough. On the fourth dip, you tried to push back against him again so you could get what you wanted, but he must have been expecting it because you failed.

 “Say the words, and it’s all yours, love. I’ll give you every single inch that you can take—and not take.” As if to help you decide, he dipped a little more into you, pulling a gasp from you.

 “I want it,” you whispered.

 “One more time.” Henry came closer to your upturned face and waited for you to repeat the words. The look in his eye said he was enjoying this more than he should have been from how hard he felt against you.

 “I want it—fuck me, Henry!”

 When he smiled, you knew you were in for it. Henry snapped his hips forward seconds after the words left your lips, filling you completely. Your shout was loud as your hand pounded the furniture.

 Henry groaned loudly as he ground his hips, sending his cock to nudge against your walls and prod your cervix.

 “Bloody Hell!”

 As if poked with a stick, Henry began his thrusts, but from the beginning, nothing in the way he moved said slow, or gentle. He had a mission, and teaching you a lesson was absolutely a priority right now. Every time he slammed into you, his grip in your hair would tighten, and your sex would quiver, giving him a tighter than a glove squeeze, which had him getting even louder.

 “Uuugh! Christ, you’re so wet.” That was when he changed his angle. Instead of spearing forward, he added a curve as he leaned back just a little.

 “Shiiiit!” He knew that was the spot for you, and he looked like he had every intention of making sure your voice was gone the next day.

 “How does it feel, love?”

 “So fucking good. Yes, yes, right there!” Again, your hand pounded into the wood. You ignored the pain in your hand; the pleasure easily overpowered it.

 You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on if he kept giving you strokes like this, you thought. As you did, Henry sped his strokes, and every time he connected your bodies, he rotated his hips. Before you knew it, your eyes were in the back of your head, your hand grabbing the edge of the wood as you screamed and claimed your release. Henry’s grunts got louder and louder; he was close. The knowledge of that had you throwing your ass back to meet him thrust for thrust while bringing yourself to yet another orgasm.

 After a few minutes, you felt the force of his release as he tried to bury himself even deeper inside of you.

 “Fuuuuck!” The sound of Henry’s near animalistic grunt had you ready for round two already.

 “Oh baby,” Henry panted as he dropped across your sweat slickened back.

 “Mmm, you’re going to be the death of me,” Henry added as he tried to catch his breath, breath that you still had yet to catch.

 “Me?”

 You could feel the rumble of his laughter across your back before he kissed a path along your spine. When he got to your ear, he kisses it. “I put that ring on your finger for a reason. You’re my world, and the love I have for you has never been written, it is that of a man’s for his queen. You have my heart. You have my soul—I love you, Y/N,” he whispered.

 Your heart swelled, making you look back at him to see a stray tear welling in his eye.

 “Aw, baby. I love you; you’re my life, my king, my everything,” you said as you turned to him to clasp his chin in your hands. Once the words were out, you kissed him tenderly so he could feel your love. He could be a dominating wolf one minute, but you knew deep down he was a big softy.

 His massive arms held you to him in a tight loving embrace that erased all memory of any slights or anger.

 “I’ll give you till the count of ten to get your gorgeous ass in that shower, my queen,” Henry said.

 You knew not to test him again, but still, you did. “Only ten? I guess I better hurry.” You pulled from him and slowly walked out of the walk-in closet. You could hear Henry chuckling behind you.

 “The wolf is ravenous Y/N. I think it not wise to tempt him further,” Henry warned, creeping up behind you to nip your shoulder.

 Screaming and squealing, you ran from him because every wolf loved the chase.

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