The night deepened. The neon lights outside the restaurant painted the entire city in a hazy, mesmerizing color. Henry was driving a smooth black Aston Martin that Happy had delivered, cruising along the quiet tree-lined boulevard.
Inside the car, soft music was playing. Helen Cho was in the passenger seat, looking out at the rapidly receding nightscape. A flush of emotion still colored her beautiful face.
"Thank you, Henry," she suddenly said, her voice soft.
"I had a wonderful time tonight." She naturally switched from "Mr. Stark" to "Henry."
Henry turned his head and glanced at her, smiling faintly.
"Is that so?" he said.
"I thought you might think I was just a big talker."
"No, you're not." Helen Cho shook her head. She turned and looked at Henry steadily in the dim light.
"You are the most uniquely interesting man I have ever met."
She looked at Henry's sharply defined profile, outlined by the streetlights, and his distinctly-veined hand on the steering wheel. A strange impulse suddenly surged within her. She realized she was starting to... like this man.
Not just because of his flawless appearance and immense wealth. Okay, those two factors definitely count. But even more so because of his intelligent, humorous, and gently alluring soul.
Yes, she admitted it; she was lusting after Henry's body.
The car slowly stopped beneath the apartment building where she lived.
"We're here," Henry said. He unbuckled his seatbelt, preparing to get out and open her door.
But Helen Cho didn't move. She just stared at him, seemingly hesitating. The air seemed to thicken, and the atmosphere grew quiet.
"Henry," she spoke again, her voice slightly shaky, perhaps from nervousness.
"It's still early. Would you like to come up for a drink? I have a very nice bottle of Korean Soju at home. I think it might pose a challenge to you."
It was a bold invitation. Henry looked at her, seeing the forced composure, but the underlying flicker of nervousness and anticipation in her eyes. He smiled. He liked smart women, and he especially liked bold and smart women.
He leaned back in his seat, bending slightly toward her. His warm breath brushed her earlobe, causing her body to subtly tremble.
"A challenge?" his voice was low.
"Doctor, you should know that I never refuse a challenge. Especially one from a beautiful lady."
"Is that so?"
...
Ten minutes later. Helen Cho's apartment was exactly as Henry had imagined: minimalist, modern, and spotless. A faint, clean scent permeated the air.
The shelves in the living room held no lavish decorations, replaced instead by structural models and thick academic tomes. The entire space radiated an intellectual beauty.
"Make yourself at home." Helen Cho took off her heels, walking barefoot on the floor. She took out a bottle of elegantly packaged Soju and two small glasses from the liquor cabinet.
"This isn't like the expensive red wine you usually drink," she said, pouring the drinks, a playful smile on her face.
"It's strong, and it's direct."
Henry sat down on the sofa without hesitation. He looked at Helen Cho, whose curves were even more alluring beneath the evening gown.
"Direct?"
He took the glass and downed the drink. The spicy liquid went down smoothly, but he couldn't taste anything. His current physique meant no alcohol on Earth could intoxicate him.
"I like directness."
He put down the glass and, without a word, pulled Helen Cho, who was about to stand up, into his arms. Helen Cho gasped, falling onto his lap. She could distinctly feel the scalding heat radiating from his body through the thin layer of clothes. Her heart began to pound wildly.
"You..." She tried to speak, but her words were cut short. Helen Cho's body stiffened for a moment, then she passionately responded. The spicy scent of the alcohol and the sweetness of the hormones mingled in the air, creating a heart-pounding atmosphere. Their breathing grew ragged. Henry's hands began to wander. He could feel her body trembling and the heart pounding madly for him.
"My bedroom..." Helen Cho's voice was barely a whisper during a break for air.
"Or right here?"
Henry looked at the breathless woman on his lap, at her eyes glazed with desire. He chuckled softly.
"My story has just begun," he said hoarsely. "Are you ready to embrace evolution?"
Helen Cho didn't answer, but her hands began to move. Henry smiled knowingly. Then, he lowered his head, swallowing all her gasps and sighs.
Helen Cho's hands, usually adept at manipulating delicate nanotech threads, were now urgently tearing at the buttons of Henry's pristine white shirt.
The question of "right here or my bedroom" was answered with the fierce, wordless intensity of their embrace. The soft leather of the sleek, modern sofa became the stage for their escalating passion, the intellectual calm of the apartment dissolving in a wave of raw, electric tension.
Henry pulled back just enough to watch her, his own eyes burning with a deep, patient hunger that excited her to her core. He allowed her to strip the shirt from him, letting it fall forgotten to the floor, welcoming the immediate contact of her fingers on his warm, sculpted skin.
Helen traced the hard, perfect lines of his chest, her touch a mix of awe and possessive desire. He was a flawless specimen, and the scientist in her was fascinated, but the woman was simply consumed.
She leaned in, pressing her lips against his firm pectoral muscle, tasting the subtle, clean scent of his skin beneath the lingering sweetness of the alcohol. A low, guttural groan escaped Henry as her mouth grazed his skin, a sound that made her entire body thrum.
He took control then, his hands expertly finding the hidden zipper of her elegant evening gown. With a smooth, decisive pull, the fabric gave way, and he nudged the straps off her shoulders.
The silk slithered down, pooling at her waist, leaving her exposed in a minimal, black lace bustier and matching panties.
"Beautiful," Henry murmured, his eyes locking onto hers, the compliment a deep caress. He didn't rush. He watched her reaction, feeding the anticipation until she could barely breathe.
His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head back, and he captured her mouth again—a deep, devouring kiss that stole any last thought of composure.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, instinctively tightening her hold on him, needing to be closer, to feel the scalding heat and unyielding power of his body pressed fully against hers.
His hand left her mouth, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her lace bustier before hooking beneath the fabric and expertly releasing the clasp.
The lace fell open, barely concealing her full, rising breasts. Henry's breath hitched, and he lowered his head, his mouth finding the soft, taut skin of her cleavage.
A shiver of intense pleasure wracked her body. She buried her fingers in his thick, dark hair, pulling him closer, unable to articulate the desperate need that was building inside her. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of their mingled desire—Soju, expensive cologne, and a rising, intoxicating musk.
Henry's hands were everywhere now, confident and demanding. He shifted her weight, pulling the silk gown completely down and off, followed by the delicate lace panties. The coolness of the air on her bared skin was a fleeting sensation, instantly replaced by the overwhelming heat of Henry's touch.
He lifted her and stood, holding her effortlessly against his chest, her legs still locked around his waist. He walked the few steps to the sofa's edge and lowered her onto the cushioned leather. Then, he was above her, his eyes blazing, the last barrier of his own tailored trousers dispatched with a decisive movement.
Helen gasped at the sight of him, his raw, masculine power filling her vision. Her hands shot out, gripping his waist, pulling him down, needing the connection she had spent the entire evening denying herself.
"Henry," she choked out, her voice a desperate, barely-heard sound.
"This is evolution, Doctor," he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers, savoring the moment of absolute surrender and thrilling anticipation. "Let's see what you can achieve."
He entered her with a slow, deliberate grace that was both a torment and a delight. A small cry escaped her lips, quickly swallowed by the kiss he immediately pressed upon her.
The sheer, overwhelming fullness of him made her arch her back, meeting his rhythm with an instinctive ferocity that surprised them both.
The pace accelerated quickly. The sofa creaked softly under the powerful, primal movements. Helen was no longer the brilliant, contained scientist; she was a creature of pure sensation, driven by a force that transcended intellect.
Every thrust was a jolt of fire, every kiss a consumption of her will. The rhythm was hypnotic, fierce, and utterly consuming.
Henry drove them higher and faster, his breath hot against her ear as he murmured promises and demands she couldn't quite decipher, but which fueled the blaze within her.
The world narrowed to the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of their ragged breathing, and the shattering, exquisite tension building deep inside her core.
She felt the edge approaching—a terrifying, exhilarating cliff. She cried out his name as the first intense convulsions seized her. Henry pushed in deeper, his final, powerful movements driving her over the precipice.
The pleasure was so complete, so violent, it was almost painful, a blinding flash of white heat that consumed her body and mind.
Henry followed her, burying his face in the curve of her neck with a final, shuddering release. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by their desperate, returning breaths.
He collapsed onto her, a weight of exquisite exhaustion and spent desire.
After a long moment, Helen found the strength to move, gently stroking the damp hair from his forehead. She looked around the dimly-lit apartment—the misplaced academic tomes, the forgotten Soju, the discarded silk and cotton—a scene of glorious, beautiful chaos. She smiled, a profound, satisfied smile.
"I stand corrected, Henry," she whispered, her voice husky and low. "You are, in fact, an incredible talker."
...
The night was long. This night was destined to be wild.
...
The next morning, the first soft ray of sunlight peeked through the window gap, dancing playfully on the floor, finally settling on Henry's flawless face. His eyelashes fluttered slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes. He saw the unfamiliar ceiling, the simple chandelier, and the air filled with the scent of a woman's body and a reassuring comfort.
He turned his head. A woman was sleeping soundly beside him. It was Helen Cho. Having shed her professional demeanor, her sleeping face was peaceful and serene, like a defenseless child. Her beautiful black hair flowed like a waterfall across the pillow. A few strands stuck to her smooth, full forehead, gently rising and falling with her steady breathing.
Henry propped his head up with one hand, quietly watching her. He realized this was probably the first time he had truly observed a woman closely.
"I have to admit, she looks much cuter asleep than when she's in a white lab coat, talking seriously to me about gene sequences," he muttered internally.
"At least now, she won't bombard my ears with a bunch of boring professional jargon that I understand but find tedious."
He reached out, wanting to brush the strand of hair from her cheek. But as his finger touched her smooth, delicate skin, the sleeping Helen Cho instinctively whimpered. Then she rolled over, snuggling into his embrace like a kitten, and draped a long, smooth leg over his waist.
Henry: "..."
He felt like an octopus had wrapped itself around him.
"Hey, I say, Helen," he whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling her sensitive lobe.
"If you keep sleeping like this, I'm going to start some... well, academic research on human structural mechanics."
Helen Cho, seemingly hearing his voice in her sleep, trembled slightly, and then slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze was still hazy with sleep, like it was covered in mist, making her look particularly alluring. She looked at Henry, so close to her, and after a few seconds, as if remembering something, her cheeks instantly flushed.
"Good morning." Her voice was a little husky with sleep, sounding soft and unlike her usual capable self.
"Good morning, my genius Doctor," Henry smiled. He lowered his head and gently kissed her forehead.
"Did you sleep well last night? Did you have any strange dreams? Like dreaming that you were kidnapped by a handsome, charming, super-powered hero?"
Helen Cho heard his playful teasing, and the last bit of awkwardness and shyness vanished. She rolled her eyes playfully, then actively lifted her head and gently pecked him on the lips.
"I did have a dream," she said with a smile. "I dreamed I conquered a god."
"Oh? Is that so?" Henry raised an eyebrow, looking at the bold and alluring woman in his arms. "Then do you think you conquered me, or did I conquer you?"
Their foreheads touched. Their noses touched. Their breaths mingled. The atmosphere became subtle.
"Perhaps..." Helen Cho looked into his deep eyes, murmuring softly.
"We conquered each other."
Henry smiled. He liked that answer.
×××××××××××××××
If you're interested, you can read advanced chapters:
p-atreon.com/Heroicverse