That spot did things to his insides, and Henry liked it. His hips bucked again, but given their new position, on his bed, his hips were bucking against her hip, and it felt... good. He did it again, waiting to be told to stop.
When no such instruction was forthcoming, he put his hand on her breast again, this time being a little more daring. He slid his hand up under her shirt, slowly, so as to give her time to stop him, and over her bra where he cupped her breast lightly, his fingers curving around it and squeezing lightly.
Why didn't his own breasts feel like this? He hated his own, hated looking at them, hated touching them. The only time he even paid them any attention at all was when he was showering, and even then he did his best not to look down and to be as quick as possible. Why, then, did Ellie's breast feel so good, and why did touching it make him feel like he was throbbing between his legs?
"Still okay?" he checked, busily exploring the material of her bra.