His hands still for just a moment before resuming their slow, grounding motion. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
I swallow. My heart is pounding again, but this time it isn’t fear driving it. “I don’t know if I can survive being wrong about you.”
He exhales softly against my hair. “You stole from your uncle knowing it could get you killed,” he says. “You ran across an ocean with nothing but nerve and diamonds I’m not sure how you got through security. You’re not nearly as risk-averse as you think.”
I turn slightly in his lap, enough to see his face, the calm certainty there making my chest ache. “And if I choose you,” I whisper. “What would that actually mean?”
“It would mean freedom,” he says simply. “You decide how you live. Where you go. What you become. It means I walk beside you, not in front of you. I protect you, support you…”
My breath catches. “And being your wife?”
A pause. Then, softer, “It means you never have to be alone again unless you ask to be.”
Something inside me finally releases.
I don’t overthink it. I don’t give fear time to crawl back in. I turn fully toward him and kiss him, slow at first, then surer, like I’m anchoring myself to this moment before it can slip away. His arms tighten around me, and when he stands, lifting me easily against him, I don’t protest.
I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my forehead against his, breath mingling with his as he carries me out of the office and down the hall, the world narrowing to the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.
When he lays me on his bed, it’s with such gentleness that I wonder where it came from. He pulls his clothes off in front of me, revealing every part of his body slowly. The broad expanseof skin, ink, scars, the smattering of dark hair over his chest, that trails down, down, down.
When he kicks off his shoes and trousers, he is already hard and thick, his tip glistening.
Then he undresses me with the same slow movements. My sweater, my T-shirt, my boots and jeans, until we are both naked.
I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he takes me in.
“I couldn’t see you last night, just an outline… you’re so fucking beautiful Victoria.” His voice has taken on a low, gravelly quality, and his cock bobs when his eyes go to the space between my thighs. “Spread your legs for me, printsessa,” he says, his words taking me back to last night.
I do as he asks and he fists his cock, squeezing until he shudders and his mouth opens.
“I’m going to come all over your pussy,” he says, kneeling between my legs. He is stroking his cock now, slowly tugging the thick length until the head goes purple.
“Bend your knees and hold your legs back, let me see every perfect part of you.” Again, I comply, letting him move my arms to the inside of my thighs. “Open yourself for me,” he grunts, his eyes becoming hooded and his breathing coming faster. I place a hand either side of myself, and pull apart gently, completely exposing myself to him.
When he lowers his free hand to my pussy and parts my lips with his fingers, it’s as if it’s too much for him, and he groans as he spurts onto my spread entrance.
Once it subsides, his cum sliding over my slit, he says, “I had to get that out of the way because I never would have lasted inside you.”
“That would have been okay,” I say, unsure what to do with that just happened.
“No, printsessa, it wouldn’t be okay. This way, I can do this you how you deserve for your first time. Not like a horny teenager chasing his own release.”
I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say. He takes the lead and dips his head to my breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn and sucking until I bow of the bed.
“I’m going to be gentle this time, but once you’ve recovered—” he flicks my nipple with his tongue and I groan. “That’s when we really go to work. I’m going to show you over and over how much I need to worship you; how desperate I am to watch you come apart for me.”
I don’t have time to ask him what he means because his fingers are inside me, slippery with his spend and my arousal.
“Slow down, Victoria,” he says when my hips start rocking faster and faster. “We have all night, and you need to be fully ready for me.”
I whimper, but slow my grinding down to match the rhythm of his fingers.
“I love the way your pussy quivers,” he presses his thumb to my clit and I almost jump off the bed. “I love how sensitive you are.”
He brings his mouth to my neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there and I relax into the sensation of being carried to a place only he can take me.
He separates his fingers inside me, stretching me, preparing me.
