“I know,” I whisper.
And I do.That’s the terrifying, beautiful part.I know without a doubt if I ever said stop, he would without question.
His mouth claims mine again, slower this time, deeper, his tongue stroking against mine in lazy teasing sweeps that make my knees threaten mutiny.He walks me backward until my legs hit the bed and then pauses, searching my face for even a flicker of hesitation.
I don’t give him any.And to be honest, I don’t think I ever will.
I sit before scooting back and lying down.He follows me down like gravity loves him more than anyone else, bracing his weight on his arms so he’s above me but not pinning me.His body heat seeps into mine through clothes that suddenly feel aggressively in the way.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs against my cheek, kissing a line down to my throat.“Do you know that?Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“Show me,” I say, breathless, shocking myself again with how bold I sound.
He laughs, dark and delighted.“Yes, ma’am.”
His mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear and my back arches off the mattress with a sound I don’t recognize as mine.My curves press against him and he groans, deep and hungry, like he’s been starving and didn’t realize it until now.
“Jesus, Olivia,” he mutters.“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.Wanted you.I’ve been trying to be good, trying to be patient while you walk around in those damn leggings...”
I laugh, half-wild, half-turned-on.“Leggings are a menace.”
“For my sanity?Yes.”
His hands glide under my shirt, stopping at the hem, giving me one more clear chance to change my mind.I nod and lift my arms.
The shirt goes first, followed quickly by my bra.His eyes drag over me like a worshipper cataloguing miracles.He doesn’t pick me apart the way I learned to do to myself.He doesn’t wince at softness or catalogue flaws.He looks ...wrecked.
“Fuck,” he says quietly, awe threaded through filth.“Every inch of you.Every curve.Mine to look at, touch, learn—if you let me.”
That last part unravels something in my chest.Consent, offered again and again, like a gift instead of a formality.
“Yes,” I say, voice shaking but certain.“I’m letting you.I’ll always let you.”
He bends and kisses the swell of my breast reverently, then again, slower, tongue flicking in a way that turns my bones to liquid.Heat pools low in my belly, pulsing with every soft scrape of his teeth, every murmur against my skin.
I’m not thinking about how I look.I’m not thinking about comparisons, about age, about worth.I’m thinking,this is my body and I am in it.
His hands are everywhere, warm and steady, mapping me.Not grabbing to claim.Learning.Memorizing.Treating me like I’m new and fascinating instead of a project to fix.
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes again.“Are you still okay?”
“Better than okay,” I manage.“Please don’t stop.”
He grins, wicked.“Yes, little librarian.”
The nickname shouldn’t be hot.But it is.
Clothes disappear in increments that feel like choices rather than inevitabilities.My confidence wavers for a flicker as more of me is revealed than I’ve willingly shown anyone in years, but he’s there instantly, catching it, kissing the doubt right off my mouth.
“Look at me,” he whispers when I try to turn my face away.“Don’t hide from me.I like seeing you.”The way he says it leaves no room for argument.
I take my time and look at him.He’s gorgeous in the unfair way of men in their twenties, hard muscle, smooth skin, and ink along his shoulder I make a note to explore later.But there’s vulnerability in the way he watches me watch him, like my gaze is the only opinion that matters.
“You’re beautiful,” I say before I can overthink it.
His smile goes crooked.“I like hearing that from you.”
His lips leave burning trails of kisses along my skin, driving me crazy.His large, calloused hands fondle my breasts while he mutters about perfection.His shoulders push my thighs apart before his lips descend on my most intimate place.His tongue teases and circles driving me closer and closer to my orgasm.My hand goes to the back of his head and a growl vibrates against my sex.
