His gaze moves over my face. “I already told you. From the first moment I saw you, I became yours, Lepa. My heart, body, and soul were not my own anymore. I made it my mission to be close to you, every spare moment I have… is yours.”
Tucker was right, Jax has been coming here because of me. I didn’t want to admit it to myself before, what if I turned out to be wrong? He’s been trying to get close to me all this time.
“How can you be sure? There are parts of myself that even I don’t know very well.” I push further. “You may not like what you find.”
His head tilts again, his eyes full of affection and tenderness. “The old woman who took care of me and my cousins after my parents died told me once that finding the other half of one’s soul in this big world is a rare, precious gift and to grab onto it for dear life when you do. I thought she was a hopeless romantic, and probably a little crazy, but I know now what she meant.”
Removing one of his hands from my face, he takes my hand and kisses my palm. “We both have parts of us that are hidden and raw, but together, we can learn. We can heal those parts. I want you to show me every scar and every hurt that has made you the woman you are, so Ican kiss each one.”
Sliding his lips to my wrist, he presses his warmth against my pulse point. His whiskers scrape across my skin, sending little shocks through my arm, and his eyes never leave mine. “I want to know all of you, to explore all of you. I will show you just how beautiful those parts can be, together.”
My heart melts in my chest as a rush of heat soaks my panties. When he’s with me, next to me, talking to me, he’s genuine. He makes me feel like the most important person on the planet.
It’s only when I’m left alone with my thoughts that I question him. He’s never done anything that justifies questioning him. On the contrary, he goes out of his way to be present.
It’s possible that the problem is me.
Obviously, the problem is me.
He’s known from his first meeting with me that I don’t let people in unless I trust them. Coming here all the time, standing next to me every chance he got, even if I turned away from him. Attempting to talk to me, even when I gave him clipped answers before I fled. Always looking out for me, even when I wouldn’t give him the time of day.
I roll up onto my toes until my lips are just a breath away from his. A nervous tremor in my belly at what I’m about to do makes my voice shake when I whisper. “I want you to show me.”
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his hard front. I can feel his need for me pressed against my stomach, long and hard, and it makes the tremors stronger, strong enough that I know he can feel them.
Sliding his fingers gently around my nape, he holds my eyes captive, the heat from his hand is splayed across my lower back. “You are in control, lepa, you tell me what you want.”
“Kiss me.”
He tenderly takes my lips. Soft and slow. The warmth of his tongue sliding across the seam asks for passage and I open to him, tasting him. Weaving his fingers in my hair, he tilts my head for a better angle and, even when soft and slow, he is claiming me, guiding me.
The more aroused I get, the harder my tremors become, and my whole body is shaking against him. I want him, I want to feel him, but I can’t stop shaking. After avoiding any man’s touch for the better part of my life, it’s like every muscle in my body is waking up for the first time and I’m… scared.
Breaking the kiss, I look up at him. “I want you to touch me.”
Reaching for the door handle, he gently pushes it closed and walks me backward toward my bed. We stop when the mattress touches the backs of my legs.
He cups my face again. “If you want me to stop, I will stop.”
Nodding my head, I sit on the bed and scoot to the middle, clenching my teeth to stop them from chattering.
Placing his knee on the bed, he crawls toward me, stalks would be the better word, his icy blue eyes never leave mine. He cups my cheek again and his lips are on mine, hungry but gentle, dominant but yielding, softly pushing me back.
He settles next to me, propped up on his forearm next to my shoulder. I lift my hand to touch his face, but my fingers are trembling so bad that I’m a little embarrassed. He looks at my hand and grasps it in his, stroking my palm with his thumb and dips his head to kiss my wrist again.
A small smile plays on his lips when he lifts his head back up and looks at his T-shirt covering me. “I like seeing you in my shirt.”
With chattering teeth, I say, “I wanted to be close to you.”
“I’m always close to you. Even when you don’t see me.”
He sets my hand on the bed next to my head, and he locks eyes with me as his fingers gather the material to expose my stomach, then his warm palm is on my skin, pressing against the center of the tremors that are moving across my body in waves. He lifts his brow. “Okay?”
I nod.
“Words, lepa.”
“Yes.” It’s a shaky whisper.
