The skirt pools around my hips, and I shimmy out of it, leaving me in just my panties and shirt. The grass is soft beneath me, sun-warmed and smelling like earth and growing things. Better than any bed.
Tank's breath comes faster through the mask, his eyes tracking down my body like he's memorizing every curve. His hands hover again, uncertain where to touch, and I realize with a jolt that he's probably never seen a woman like this. Never had permission to look, let alone touch.
"It's okay." I reach for his hand, bringing it to my thigh. His palm is rough, callused from work and violence, and the contrast against my soft skin makes me shiver. "See? I'm not going to break."
He traces up slowly, reverent, like I'm something sacred instead of the girl who abandoned him. When his fingers brush the edge of my panties, he freezes again.
Can I?
"Yes." The word comes out breathier than I intend. "Tank, yes. You can touch me however you want. Anywhere you want."
His fingers hook into the fabric, and he pulls my panties down with agonizing slowness. The air hits my bare pussy, and I'm already wet—have been since he pulled me against him, since I felt the evidence of how much he wants me pressing into my stomach.
He stares. Just stares, and I can feel it as surely as if he were touching me. I'm completely exposed to him, spread out on the grass like an offering, and the vulnerability should make me want to cover up.
Instead, it makes me wetter.
"Touch me," I whisper, and his hand moves like I've given him permission to breathe.
His fingers are gentle when they find me, exploratory, testing. He traces through my folds with reverence, learning the shape of me. When his thumb brushes my clit, I gasp, and he immediately pulls back, fear flooding his gaze.
Hurt you?
"No." I grab his wrist, guiding his hand back. "It felt good. Keep going."
He does, circling my clit with more confidence now. The touch is unpracticed but eager, and somehow that makes it better. He's learning me. Memorizing what makes me gasp, what makes my hips buck, what makes me moan his name.
"Inside," I breathe, and his eyes go wide behind the mask. "Put your fingers inside me."
He does, one thick digit sliding into my pussy, and we both groan. His hand is so much bigger than Jinx's, stretching me in ways that make my back arch off the grass. He watches my face like he's afraid he's hurting me, but all he'll find is pleasure written across my expression.
Okay?
"More than okay." I rock my hips, taking him deeper. "Add another."
Two fingers now, and fuck, the stretch is perfect. He pumps them slowly, carefully, and I can tell he's holding back. Afraid of his own strength. Afraid of breaking me.
"Tank." I reach up, cupping his face through the mask. "I'm not fragile. You won't hurt me. I promise."
His expression shifts. The carefulness doesn't disappear, but it's joined by something darker. Hungrier. His fingers move faster, curling to find that spot inside that makes my vision white out for a second.
"Yes," I gasp, my hands fisting in the grass. "Just like that. Right there. Don't stop."
He doesn't. Keeps working me with those huge fingers while his thumb finds my clit, and the dual stimulation has me climbing toward orgasm faster than I expected. The clumsiness of his hand somehow works perfectly. His fingers are so huge, it would be impossible for him tonotfind those spots. My thighs start to shake, my pussy clenching around him in warning.
"I'm gonna—Tank, I'm?—"
The orgasm crashes through me, and I come apart on his hand with a sharp cry, his name on my lips. He works me through it, gentler now, easing me down from the high with touches that feel almost worshipful.
When I finally open my eyes, he's staring at me like I've performed a miracle. Like watching me come is the most beautiful thing he's ever witnessed.
Perfect,he signs with his clean hand.You're so perfect.
"Your turn." I sit up on shaky arms, still breathless as I reach for his jeans. "Let me see you."
His whole body goes rigid, and I see panic flash across his expression. But he relaxes slightly when I work his zipper down, only to get tense all over again when I shove his jeans and boxers down his muscled thighs.
Holy shit.
