Touch-starved. The word surfaced and stuck.
This man, this huge, gruff, guarded man, was starving for contact. For tenderness. For someone to put their hands on him and mean it.
I was going to give him everything.
“Bed,” I said. “Now.”
He let me push him backward until his knees hit the mattress and he sat down hard. I climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs, and his hands came up to grip my hips like I might disappear if he let go.
“Let me take care of you,” I said. “Can you do that? Just let me?”
He nodded, eyes dark and desperate.
I started slow. Kissed his mouth, his jaw, the side of his neck. Found the spot below his ear that made him shiver and stayed there, licking and sucking until he groaned. His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me closer, and I could feel how hard he was through his jeans, pressing up against me.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Jamie—”
“I know.” I kissed my way down his chest, my tongue tracing the line of muscle, the scatter of dark hair. He watched me thewhole time, like he couldn't believe this was happening, like he was afraid to blink and find it was a dream.
I slid off his lap and knelt between his legs.
His breath caught. His hands came up like he wanted to stop me, then fell back to the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets.
“You don't have to—”
“I want to.” I looked up at him, held his gaze. “I really, really want to.”
His cock was straining against his jeans, the outline of it thick and obvious. I pressed my palm against it and he made a sound like I'd punched him, hips jerking up into the contact.
“Easy.” I worked his belt open, popped the button, eased down the zipper. “Lift up.”
He lifted his hips and I tugged his jeans down, then his boxers, and—
Oh.
He was big. Proportional to the rest of him, which meant he was really fucking big. Long and thick, flushed dark with blood, already leaking at the tip. My mouth watered.
“You're huge,” I said, because I'd lost all brain-to-mouth filter.
His ears went red. “You don't have to—”
“Shut up.” I wrapped my hand around the base, felt him pulse in my grip. So fucking hot”I said I wanted to. I meant it.”
I leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside, base to tip, and Holden's head fell back with a groan that came from somewhere deep in his chest. He tasted clean, like soap and skin and something musky underneath that made me want more.
I wrapped my lips around the head and sucked.
“Fuck—” His hips bucked, and his hand flew to the back of my head, then jerked away like he'd been burned. “Sorry, I didn't mean—”
I pulled off just long enough to grab his wrist and put his hand back. “You can touch me. I want you to.”
His fingers threaded through my hair, tentative at first, then tightening when I took him deeper. I couldn't fit all of him—he was too big for that—but I took as much as I could, hollowing my cheeks, working my tongue along the underside while my hand stroked what my mouth couldn't reach.
“Jamie—” His voice cracked. “That's—fuck, that's so good—”
I hummed around him, and his whole body jerked. His fingers tightened in my hair, not pulling, just holding on. I looked up at him through my lashes, watched his face as pleasure took him apart. His jaw was clenched, his chest heaving, his eyes squeezed shut like he couldn't handle looking at me.
I pulled off with a wet sound. “Look at me.”
