This isn’t supposed to feel like falling.
But it does.
His hands move over me like he’s memorizing something sacred.
Every touch deliberate. Worshipful.
My skin feels too tight for my body, heat pooling everywhere he’s already been and everywhere he hasn’t.
He leans in close, his breath a rough whisper against my ear.
“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and trembling at the edges. “I touch you, and it’s like I forget how to breathe.”
His thumb slides over my collarbone, slow, reverent. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, the words half-broken, like he’s confessing a secret. “Every inch of you. Every sound. I want to know them all.”
When I shiver, he smiles against my throat—as a soft, hungry sound escapes his mouth.
“You feel that?” he whispers. “That’s me trying to remember that you deserve slow. That you deserve to be looked at like this.”
I can’t speak. I can barely move.
His lips find the space just beneath my ear. “Mine,” he breathes, and the word sends a ripple through me.
Langston pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and full of want. “You make me want things I never thought I’d need. You make me want to lose control.”
He drags a knuckle down my jaw, gentle and rough all at once.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, but he’s already memorizing the rhythm of my breath, the way I tremble when he speaks. “Because I swear, sweetheart… the second you say stop, I will.”
He presses his forehead to mine, voice breaking in a quiet confession. “But until you do, I’m going to show you what it means to be wanted. Really wanted.”
His mouth hovers just above mine, voice rough enough to scrape against every nerve.
“Do you have any idea what it does to me when you look at me like that?” he murmurs, his breath ghosting across my lips. “Every time you bite that lip, every time you blush, I start thinking about all the ways I could make you forget your own name.”
He drags his thumb over my bottom lip, slow and deliberate. “You’re shaking,” he whispers. “Is it because you’re scared… or because you know I’d give you everything you’ve been afraid to ask for?”
My heart stumbles against my ribs. I can’t answer him. I don’t think I could form words even if I wanted to.
Langston’s lips find my jaw, the corner of my mouth, the hollow of my throat—each kiss a promise and a warning. “You make me lose focus,” he murmurs between kisses.
His hand slides to my hip, tracing the edge of my dress like he’s memorizing the shape of me. “Every inch of you, sweetheart… I could spend a lifetime learning you.”
The words alone make my pulse flutter.
Then his tone shifts—lower, softer, but heavy with intent. “Tell me what you want.”
I shake my head, breathless.
He chuckles, dark and low. “That’s all right. I’ll learn your answers one touch at a time.”
His hand glides down, slow enough to make me tremble, and before I can stop the sound from escaping, it’s already out—quiet and broken.
I can’t move. I can’t think.
When he finally pushes his hand against my panties my back arches and I moan. The air between us feels charged, alive.
He pushes hard against my core as I moan and whimper under him and he hasn't even touched me yet.
