Her expression softens, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "I've been ready for days. The question is, are you? And don't you dare say yes just because you think it's what I want to hear."
The concern in her eyes warms me more than desire ever could. Even now, even with want evident in every line of her body, her priority is my wellbeing.
"I'm sure," I tell her, covering her hand with mine where it rests against my face. "I'm not saying it'll be the acrobatic performance of a lifetime, but I need you, Sandra. Have since the minute I woke up in that hospital bed and saw you there."
Something changes in her gaze, a deepening of emotion that steals my breath. "I need you too," she whispers. "So much."
This time when our lips meet, there's no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss ignites instantly, her body pressing against mine in all the right places. My hands slide under her t-shirt, finding warm skin beneath, traveling upward until I'm cupping the soft weight of her breasts.
She moans into my mouth, arching into my touch. I walk her backward toward the bed, following her down as she sits on the edge, positioning myself carefully to avoid strain on my ribs.
"Let me," she says, understanding without words. She pulls her shirt over her head, revealing bare breasts that make my mouth go dry. "I'll do the heavy lifting today."
"Works for me." I sit beside her, drinking in the sight of her. "You're so fucking beautiful."
Color rises in her cheeks, but she holds my gaze, confidence radiating from her as she stands to shimmy out of her leggings and panties. Completely naked, she's a vision—all curves and smooth brown skin, her body strong and soft in all the right places.
"Your turn," she says, reaching for the buttons of my flannel. "Though I'm doing the work here too."
I let her undress me, careful around my bandaged ribs, until I'm as naked as she is. Despite three weeks of inactivity, my cock stands fully at attention, eager for her touch.
"Lie back," she instructs, gently pushing at my shoulders until I'm reclined against the pillows. "Let me take care of you."
I've never been good at relinquishing control, at letting someone else take charge. But with Sandra, it feels right. Natural. I trust her with my body, with my pleasure, with everything.
She straddles me, careful to keep her weight off my torso, and leans down for another kiss. The feel of her breasts against my chest, her warmth hovering over my aching cock, is exquisite torture.
"Fuck, Sandra," I groan as she rocks against me, creating just enough friction to drive me crazy. "You're killing me."
"Can't have that," she murmurs, sliding lower, trailing kisses down my chest, careful around my bruises and bandages. "Not when I've got plans for you."
When her mouth closes over my cock, I nearly come off the bed, only the lingering pain in my ribs keeping me somewhat still. Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes me deeper, creating a wet heat that has me seeing stars.
"Sandra," I pant, tangling one hand in her curls. "If you keep that up, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast."
She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, lips still wrapped around me, and the sight is nearly my undoing. Then she releases me with a soft pop, crawling back up my body.
"Can't have that either," she says, positioning herself over me. "Not when I've been dreaming about this for weeks."
She reaches between us, guiding me to her entrance. She's wet, ready for me, and the first touch of her heat against the head of my cock pulls a groan from deep in my chest.
"Let me get a condom," I manage to gasp, amazed I still have the presence of mind to remember.
"Not tonight. I started birth control just so I could feel all of you," she says, pausing. "And I'm clean. Got tested after Martin, haven't been with anyone else before you."
The implication—that she trusts me, that she wants nothing between us—nearly undoes me. "I'm clean too," I tell her. "Got tested after Vanessa. Haven't been with anyone since I came to Crimson Hollow. Before you."
Her eyes widen at that. "No one? In five years?"
"I’m good with my hands," I clarify.
Something like tenderness fills her expression. "And now?"
"Now there's only you," I say simply. "Only ever you."
She leans down to kiss me, deep and searching, before straightening up again. Slowly, torturously, she lowers herself onto me, taking me inch by inch until I'm fully sheathed within her.
We both moan at the sensation, so much more intense without the barrier of latex between us. She feels incredible—hot and tight and perfect around me.
