His thumb brushes my lower lip, and goosebumps erupt over my arms.
"But first," he continues, voice dropping lower, "I need you to understand something."
"What?"
"Once this happens, you're mine. Completely. In every possible way." His eyes search mine. "No going back. No regrets. No second-guessing. You'll be mine, and I'll be yours, and that's how it stays until the end of time."
The possessiveness in his voice sends heat pooling low in my stomach.
"Okay," I whisper.
"Okay?" His hands slide from my face down to my shoulders. "That's all you have to say?"
"I don't know what else to say." I look up at him, feeling vulnerable and exposed and terrified and excited all at once. "I've never done this before. I don't know how to be... this."
"You don't need to know." His hands move to the buttons at the back of my dress. "You just need to trust me."
"I do," I say, and realize I mean it.
I do trust him. This man who killed my brother and married me within twenty-four hours of meeting me. This man who looks at me like I'm the only thing in the world worth having.
I trust him.
"Turn around," he murmurs.
I turn, and he releases the buttons one by one and eases the dress down. The fabric pools at my feet, leaving me standing in just my underwear, simple white lace that Marie got for me, a matching set that suddenly feels far too revealing.
I fight the urge to cover myself.
His hands settle on my waist from behind, warm and sure. "You're beautiful," he says dropping a kiss on my shoulder. "Perfect."
I don't feel perfect. I feel exposed and nervous and completely out of my depth.
But then his mouth finds the curve where shoulder meets my neck, and thought becomes impossible.
Gennady
I've wanted this since I tasted blood on her lip in the back of the car and felt something inside me recognize her as mine before my brain caught up.
But now she's standing in front of me in white lace that does absolutely nothing to hide her curves, and want has evolved into need so powerful it's taking everything I have not to rush this.
She's a virgin.
I need to remember that. Need to go slow, make this good for her, make sure her first time is something she'll remember for the right reasons.
Even if every instinct I have is screaming at me to claim her fast and hard and leave no doubt in her mind who she belongs to.
I press another kiss to her shoulder, then trail my mouth up the column of her neck. She melts back against me, and I feel the exact moment she stops thinking and starts feeling.
My hands slide from her waist to cup her breasts through the lace. They fit perfectly in my palms, full and soft, and when I brush my thumbs over her nipples, she gasps.
"Gennady—"
"Do you like that?" I ask against her ear.
"Yes." The word comes out breathy, uncertain.
I do it again, applying more pressure this time, and she arches into my touch with a sound that goes straight to my cock.
