“Well, yes, but?—”
“Daisy, I know I’m asking a lot. And I’m not even sure what I’m asking. My life… It’s very private. That’s not accidental. Every single part is by my own design. I’m meticulous and guarded, and for good reason. I never let outsiders in. And I’ve always liked that about me. Until you.”
Heat rose under his clothes. He wasn’t sure what he was asking of her or himself.
“I can’t do what you wanted to do tonight—at least not yet.”
“Jack, that’s okay?—”
“It’s not because I don’t want to. I see you, and I want to touch you and taste you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before. There’s something different about you. You’re smart and gentle and so fucking gorgeous it makes me ache just to look at you.”
“Jack,” she whispered, only making it harder to explain why he was so fucked up.
“I want more time. I need more time with you. And I don’t want you to say yes for any reason other than you want the same?—”
“Yes.”
“—regardless of—What?”
“Yes. I’d like more time to get to know you, too.”
“You would?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “Is that so hard to believe?”
A stunned sound left his throat. “I had more to say.”
“You can still say it.”
“I…”
She said yes.
Her agreement was an unexpected distraction, making it that much harder to express himself.
“I want you…” He confessed, still shocked by the truth of such a statement. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this. It…consumes me. And I know I’m fucked up. I know what I look like and what you must see?—”
Her mouth pressed to his, hard and silencing. He stiffened out of habit, then pulled her close, deepening the kiss.
“I see a good man,” she whispered against his lips.
Eventually, she’d see the real him, and that perception would change. But for now, he let it stand.
Lifting her in one fluid motion, she wrapped her legs around his hips and let him carry her back to the bed. He followed her to the mattress, gazing down at her like a man surveying territory he intended to claim.
The firelight painted her in amber and shadow, gilding the soft swell of her breasts, the valley of her waist, the pale thighs she kept nervously pressed together.
“Let me see you,” he said, easing her thighs apart.
Not a request. A command.
Her breath hitched, but she obeyed, letting her knees fall wider at the gentlest touch. The vulnerability of the position sent a flush spreading across her chest, up her throat, until it bloomed pink beneath her freckled cheeks.
Jack’s gaze dropped to the soft thatch of honey curls between her legs, already glistening in the low light. His cock strained painfully against his trousers, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about him. This was about proving that his hands could bring pleasure rather than pain.
“Like a flower glistening in morning dew,” he rasped, voice rougher than intended.
Her eyes widened as he moved her arms above her head, pressing them into the bedding with a silent command. The position arched her back, lifting her breasts toward him like an offering.
