“I want to learn every inch of you,” he says, as the hand on my ass scoops me further onto his hard cock. “Every sound you make. Every place that makes you come. I want to make you feel so good, you forget every man who didn’t give a fuck about learning you at all.”
It hits me like a current. The way he says these words. The conviction in every syllable. This isn’t a man trying to impress me. This is a man telling me the truth. Declaring it.
And I can’t speak. Can’t look away. Can’t pretend I’m not trembling in the most delicious way.
This isn’t just lust. It’s restoration.
“And if it helps,” he adds, his mouth curving into that devastating grin, “I’m happy to guarantee an orgasm every day as reinforcement.”
A laugh bubbles up—light and choked and desperate all at once. My heart’s pounding. My thighs ache. And somehow, through it all, my sanity is still holding on by a thread.
But if he keeps looking at me like that, if he keeps talking to me like I’m the only thing in this world worth worshipping…
He taps my hip, then leans back on his hands. “Stand up.”
I slide off his lap and step back, pulse pounding beneath my breasts but not out of fear. Anticipation. Desire. Something much deeper.
He stays seated, legs spread comfortably wide, and my eyes fall to the straining bulge beneath his jeans.
“Take off your clothes,” he says. “Slow. I want to watch.”
The words have my eyes snapping to his. I feel exposed, even fully dressed. But I don’t look away.
This is what trust looks like. Not a dramatic declaration. A choice. One piece of clothing at a time.
My hands go to the hem of my simple cotton T-shirt. I creep it up past my stomach, then ribs, revealing a neutral-colored bra that pushes the girls up, but is more suited for not showing lines than a striptease. I let the shirt fall to the floor. Not trying to do too much. Just what he asked of me. His eyes follow every motion like they matter. Like I matter. And comfort stokes the fire in my core. My limbs begin to feel less and less tense, relief from the ache of overthinking.
As I reach for the button on my jeans, he pulls his own shirt over his head revealing that chest built of packed muscle and rippling abs that Imusttake the time to count with my tongue. We match each other move for move. I’m still nervous—self-conscious in a way I can’t explain—but each time he mirrors me, something settles. Like maybe he doesn’t notice the stretch in my stomach from carrying Bash, or the softness in my thighs that never truly left. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t care.
Bra.Gone.
He lifts up and his pants drop next.
My jeans slide off in a sluggish shimmy down my thighs, that makes me giggle.
He stands, letting his boxer briefs fall, and I’m stunned again by the sheer presence of him. Not just the size, not just the body…him.
I take a deep breath and hook my thumbs in the waistband of my underwear. I glance up and his dark eyes are still locked on my face.
“I want all of you,” he says simply.
So I give it to him. One step at a time.
I stand exposed, heart galloping beneath my ribs, the cool air teasing my skin. A charge of trust rushes through me. Then the tension hits.
“Now what?” I ask, breath caught somewhere between nerves and need.
Hex doesn’t miss a beat. His voice becomes gravel and fire, pebbling my nipples to hard points. “Now I get to fuck you. And worship every inch of that beautiful body.”
God.
He’s all sharp lines and raw strength, every muscle taut beneath inked skin. That angel tattoo sweeping down his arm draws my eye across his bicep, over his forearm, ending at his large hand wrapped around himself. The contrast of that softness—the reverence in the way he strokes—makes even more heat bloom between my legs.
Something about it makes me proud. Not just to be wanted like this, but to feel like I deserve it.
I move toward him.
He reaches for my hips, drawing me closer. His mouth finds the swell of my breast, lips warm and sure, and I gasp as he sucks one erect nipple into his mouth. Then moves to the other. His tongue swirls, teasing, then teeth drag just enough to make me squirm.
