“May I?” I ask, letting a small, teasing smile tug at my lips.
His answering grin is slow and sure. He gives the smallest gesture with his hands—be my guest—and something in my chest loosens.
I tug his slacks down, guiding them past his hips, over the sharp planes of his thighs, all the way to his ankles. He steps out of them cleanly, kicking them aside with a casual sweep of his foot.
And then he’s bare to me.
His cock stands thick and aching, flushed from our kiss, the head glistening in a way that drags need through me in one sharp sweep.
I’ve known him inside me, against me, filling me in ways that rewire thought itself—yet seeing him like this, up close, towering over me while I kneel, makes a bloom of bashfulness rise in my cheeks. It’s ridiculous; we’ve touched each othereverywhere. But something about this vantage point, this choice, makes me shy in the sweetest, sharpest way.
I look away without meaning to.
Nathaniel’s hand finds my cheek immediately, his palm warm and gentle as he guides my gaze back to his.
“What is it you want, baby?” His voice is so low it makes me shudder. “Use your words.”
“I want…” The sentence dissolves when he lifts his other hand to his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. He strokes himself with slow, deliberate pulls, watching me the entire time. The sight steals air straight from my lungs.
His hum is deep, amused, coaxing. “You want…?”
I swallow, hard, my focus narrowing to the steady motion of his hand and the heat building between my thighs. The desire is sharp enough to make me dizzy.
“I want you in my mouth. Can I make you feel good?” I whisper.
He tilts his head, as if weighing the request, though his eyes tell me he’s been anticipating those words since the moment I knelt.
One of his hands is still curved around my face, thumb brushing the edge of my jaw with unhurried intent. The other continues its slow path along his length, his fingers gliding in a rhythm meant to undo me long before he touches me. My mouth waters shamelessly at the sight. I want him, want to feel the weight of his cock on my tongue.
He guides my head closer with the gentlest pressure, urging me forward an inch. A rush of certainty goes through me.There is no universe in which he’ll deny me.
I part my lips, willing and eager and?—
He presses my mouth closed with a thumb under my chin, the gesture tender yet absolute.
“Tempting,” he murmurs, “but not yet. Let me enjoy the view a little longer.”
His refusal sparks a sharp, exquisite frustration, a whine rising in my throat that I swallow back only for him to tilt my face upward, holding me as if assessing something precious.
His thumb sweeps along my cheekbone. “God, you’re beautiful,” he says. “Have I told you that today?”
I go still. He’s said it more times than I can count, but the way he says it now—like the words are pulled from somewhere he can’t fight—unravels me.
My voice drags when I answer, “Yes. This morning when I woke up.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips. He groans at the sight.
“Well,” he says, breath measured but strained, “you deserve to be told often. I can’t risk you forgetting it. Let me see more of you. Take off your shirt.”
There’s no second thought. I reach for the oversized shirt I slept in and peel it off in one smooth motion. It’s his—long enough on me to pass as a nightdress because he’s so much taller, broad enough that it still carries the shape of his body in its seams.
When it slips from my hands and pools on the floor, I’m left in nothing but white lace panties. No bra. I don’t usually sleep in anything this delicate, but I wore the lace for him, knowing how he looks at me when he sees it against my skin. I’d chosen it deliberately last night, if only to indulge him.
He doesn’t disappoint me.
His breath hitches. The rhythm of his hand falters; then he stops stroking himself altogether, fingers tightening as though he’s holding himself back from something he very much wants.
Seeing that reaction always makes me forget the years I’ve spent resenting my body. Under his gaze, I feel like I’m more than enough. Like I was made for this moment, like I was made forhim.
