SNAPPER
At the top of the stairs, I set her down outside her bedroom door. She swayed, and I put my hands on her waist to steady her. Even now, after everything she’d just told me, after she’d let me in, I had to be sure.
“You okay with this?”
She pulled my mouth back to hers. The kiss was slower this time, deeper, and when I stared into them, her eyes were clear. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Inside her room, I took in the details I’d never seen before. Books stacked on the nightstand—technical volumes about viticulture mixed with travel guides for places she’d never visited but said she wanted to. A quilt, probably from her grandmother, that looked handmade, was draped across the bed.
She stood beside it, twisting her hands together.
I stepped closer and cupped her face. “We can stop anytime.”
“I don’t want to stop.” Her hands rested on my chest. “I want this. I want you.”
She reached for the hem of my shirt, and I helped her pull it over my head. Her hands explored my chest, her fingers tracing muscle and the rope-burn scar on my ribs from a tussle with asteer a few years ago. When she reached my shoulder, her touch gentled.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not right now.” I caught her hand and kissed her palm. “Right now, I don’t feel anything but you.”
I found the buttons of her shirt and worked them slowly, watching her face flush as each one came free. When I pushed it off her shoulders, I saw what I’d imagined for years—tan lines from working in the vineyard, her shoulders darker than the pale skin below. Freckles scattered across her collarbone like someone had splattered wine across marble.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I said, tracing the line where sun-kissed skin met pale.
More clothes came off. Then I unzipped her jeans covered with faint purple stains that wouldn’t wash out completely. Her hands were callused from the pruning shears, and her cuticles were also stained despite scrubbing.
I lay her on the bed and followed her down, settling my weight carefully over her. The first touch of skin to skin made us both gasp.
I kissed her deeply, taking my time. My hands learned her body—the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, the softness of her breasts. When I traced my thumb across her nipple and felt it harden, she arched beneath me.
“Snapper, please?—”
“I’ve got you.” I kissed down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower. When I took her nipple in my mouth, her fingers tightened in my hair and she made a sound that shot straight to my cock.
Now, I had her beneath me, trusting me with her body after trusting me with her truth, and I was going to make damn sure she never regretted it.
My mouth continued making its way down her stomach, feeling her muscles jump under my lips. When I settled between her thighs, she tensed.
“Relax, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”
I put my mouth on her, and her hips lifted off the bed. I took my time, learning what made her moan, what made her hands fist in the sheets, what made her say my name. When she came against my tongue, I memorized the taste of her.
I moved up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on my lips. Her hands were frantic, pulling at my shoulders, trying to get me closer.
“I need you,” she gasped. “Please, I need?—”
After rolling on the condom I’d taken from my wallet and set on the bedside table, I positioned myself and pushed inside her slowly. We both froze at the sensation—her hot and tight around me, me stretching her, filling her. Perfect.
When she moved her hips, I was lost.
We found a rhythm, like we’d been doing this for years instead of minutes. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I laced my fingers through hers, pinning her hands beside her head. I watched her face—the way her lips parted the deeper I went, the flush spreading down her neck, the small crease between her brows when I changed the angle.
“Look at me,” I said when her eyes started to drift closed. “I want to see you.”
She held my gaze. No walls. No barriers.
I reached between us and touched her where we were joined. Her back arched, and she shattered, her body clenching around me in waves.
