"I want you." She cuts me off, her hands framing my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. "I want this. I want to know what it feels like."
"What what feels like?" My thumbs stroke along her hipbones, trying to soothe even as my own need threatens to consume me.
"To feel good." Her voice breaks on the words, and there's something raw in her eyes. Something that looks like pain beneath the desire. "I just want to know what it feels like to feel good with someone."
The confession sends ice through my veins.
What the fuck has her life been like that she's never?—
I don't let myself finish the thought. Don't let myself imagine what kind of bastard would have her and not worship her the way she deserves. Because if I do, if I let that rage build, I won't be able to focus on her. On this.
On giving her exactly what she's asking for.
My hands cup her face, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, and I make myself think. Force my brain to work through the haze of want clouding everything else.
She's begging for this. Pulling at me like she'll die if I don't give her what she needs. But I need to be sure. Need to know this is really what she wants and not just the magic and wine making her reckless.
"Senna." I keep my voice steady, controlled, even though everything in me is screaming. "Do you want me?"
"Yes." The word is a moan, her hips rolling against mine again, seeking friction. "Gods, yes. Please."
"I want to take my time with you." I press my forehead against hers, breathing her in. "Want to learn every inch of you. Want to make it so good you forget everything else."
"Then do it." Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging hard. "Or let me—I want to feel you buried in me. Want to know what it's like when it's supposed to feel good."
The words break something in me.
She captures my mouth in a kiss that's pure desperation, all heat and need and hunger, and I'm done. Finished. Every last shred of control I was clinging to shatters like glass.
I kiss her back with everything I have, claiming her mouth like it belongs to me. Like she belongs to me. My hands slide down to her thighs, bunching the fabric of her dress in my fists as I drag it up and out of the way.
The silk pools around her hips, and I break the kiss just long enough to look down. To see her.
Fuck.
She's bare beneath the dress. No undergarments. Nothing between me and the slick heat of her except air and intention.
"You're going to kill me," I groan, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her throat. "Absolutely fucking destroy me."
Her laugh is breathless, shaky. "Good."
Her fingers fumble with the laces of my trousers, tugging at them with clumsy desperation that makes my heart clench. I help her, making quick work of the knots, and then my cock springs free and she gasps.
"Is that—" She looks down between us, eyes widening. "Will it?—"
"It'll fit." I cup her face again, forcing her to look at me. "I promise. I'll make it good for you."
She nods, trusting me in a way that makes my chest ache, and then I'm lining myself up. The head of my cock brushes against her entrance and we both shudder.
She's soaking wet. Dripping. Ready for me in a way that makes my magic flare again, trying to mark, trying to claim.
I push forward slowly, watching her face, and the tight heat of her body closing around me is?—
Pain. Pleasure. Everything.
She gasps, her head falling back against the wall, and I freeze. Give her time to adjust even though every instinct is screaming at me to drive forward. To bury myself to the hilt and never let go.
"Okay?" The word comes out strangled.
