“You’re perfect,” I murmur. “Just like this.”
I tie it gently—carefully—letting the silk settle over her eyes like a whisper.
She exhales, sharp and trembling.
I guide her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the mattress. “Lie back, sweetheart,” I say, voice low. “I want you to feel everything… without knowing what’s next.”
She sinks down onto the bed, her breath quickening. I stand over her for a moment, just watching. The way her chest rises. The way her fingers clutch the sheets. She’s beautiful like this. Laid out. Trusting me completely.
I kneel beside her, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, then leaning down to kiss her cheek. Her skin is warm. Flushed.
Another kiss—just under her jaw.
Then her shoulder.
Then lower.
I take my time.
I kiss the inside of her wrist. Down her arm. Over her collarbone. I worship her like I’ve been waiting forever to touch her this way.
She’s trembling with anticipation. And fuck, I love it.
“You can’t see a thing, can you?” I whisper.
She shakes her head, lips parted.
“Good,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles lightly along her waist.
She lets out a soft sound—half whimper, half challenge—and I grin.
My hand glides under her shirt, fingers teasing the warm skin at her lower belly. I lean down, mouth close to her ear.
“I’m sliding your shirt up… slowly. You feel that?” My fingers move, dragging the fabric inch by inch. “That’s my mouth. Right there.”
I kiss just beneath her ribs, letting my stubble scrape lightly against her skin.
She arches into me, her breath catching.
“You’re so sensitive like this,” I murmur, licking a trail across her stomach before pulling her shirt higher. “Every nerve lit up. Every breath shaking.”
I pause just below her bra and sit back for a second, admiring the way she squirms. Not from discomfort. From want. From the not knowing.
“You want more?” I ask softly.
She nods, cheeks flushed.
“Use yourwords, Olive.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Please.”
God help me.
I ease her shirt the rest of the way off, my hands grazing her arms as I do. I toss it aside, then trail my fingers slowly over the lacy edge of her bra.
“Now this…” I murmur, “I might leave on for a bit. Just to torture us both.”
She lets out a tiny, needy noise.
