The question settles something in my chest. He’s giving me control, letting me direct this.
“Slow,” I say, my voice quieter than I want it to be. I step closer, stopping a few feet away. “I need you to keep checking in. Ask me if I’m okay.”
“I will.”
“And if I tell you to stop?—”
"Then we stop. Immediately. No questions." His green eyes hold mine. "I mean that, Maya. The second you're uncomfortable, we're done."
“Okay.” Another step, and I’m in his space now. I can feel the heat coming off his body. “Can I… can I kiss you?”
“You can do whatever you want to me.”
I lean down, closing the last bit of distance, and press my mouth to his. He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me, just sits there with his hands on his thighs and lets me kiss him at my own pace.
I pull back. "Is this okay?"
"More than okay." His voice is rough. "Whatever you need, Stardust."
That name does something to me—tightens my chest, makes it hard to breathe. I kiss him again, deeper this time, my tongue tracing the edge of his lips. He opens for me with a low sound in his chest, but he still lets me lead. My hands find his shoulders, solid under my palms, and I can feel his pulse racing against my fingertips.
"Can you take your shirt off?" I whisper.
He pulls back just enough to pull it over his head in one smooth motion and tosses it aside.
God.I've seen him shirtless before, years of living in the same house, swimming pools, casual moments. But this is different. This is mine to touch, to explore.
My hands flatten against the heat of his skin, learning the shape of him, tracing old scars and the hard lines of muscle.
"You're shaking," he says quietly.
"I’m nervous."
"We can stop."
"No." I meet his eyes. "I want this. I just… don’t want it to feel like before.”
“It won’t.” His hand comes up slow, giving me every chance to pull back. He cups my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek. “Because you’re choosing this. You’re choosing me. That’s the difference.”
My throat tightens. I blink hard.
“Can I touch you?” he asks.
"Yes."
His hands settle at my waist, fingers spanning the space there. “Is this okay?”
"Yes."
He pulls me closer, settling me between his legs.
"Tell me what you need, Maya.”
"I need… I need to feel in control."
"Then you're in control. You set the pace. You tell me what to do."
I kiss him again, harder this time. “Touch me,” I breathe against his mouth, “but ask first.”
