But this was different. This washim—watching my face, learning what made me gasp, what made me arch into his touch, what made my breath catch and my fingers dig into his shoulders.
"That's it," he breathed. "Let go. I've got you."
I did. I came apart with his name on my lips, and he held me through it
When I came back to myself, he was watching me with something like awe.
"You're beautiful," he said. "Do you know that? You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
I pulled him down and kissed him, tasting wine and want and four years of waiting.
"I want all of it," I said. "I want you. All of you."
"You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
He reached for the nightstand. Protection, I realized dimly, grateful that one of us was thinking clearly. Then he was settling between my thighs, and I felt him there, waiting.
"Look at me," he said.
I did. His dark eyes held mine, steady and sure.
"If anything hurts, if anything doesn't feel right, you tell me. We stop. Okay?"
"Okay."
He pushed forward, slow and careful. There was pressure, then a stretch, then a brief, sharp sting that made me suck in a breath. He froze immediately.
"Ava—"
"I'm okay." I pulled him closer, wrapped my legs around his hips. "Just... give me a second."
He held perfectly still, pressing kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, the corner of my mouth. Whispering my name like a prayer. And slowly, gradually, the discomfort faded, replaced by something else. Something fuller. Somethingright.
"Okay," I breathed. "You can move."
He did—slow, careful, watching my face for any sign of pain. But there was no pain now. Just sensation building on sensation, pleasure I hadn't known my body was capable of.
This is what it's supposed to feel like,I thought.This is what it means to trust someone completely.
We found a rhythm together. His forehead dropped to mine, our breath mingling, our bodies learning each other in the most intimate way possible. I'd spent thirty-two years guarding myself, protecting myself, convincing myself I didn't need this.
I'd been wrong.
I hadn’t known how much I needed him. Until now.
"Brian." My voice broke on his name. "I'm going to?—"
"I know. I've got you. Let go."
I did. And this time, when the pleasure crested and broke, he was right there with me, my name falling from his lips like he'd been waiting his whole life to say it.
Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns on my shoulder. My body felt different—tender in new places, alive in ways I hadn't expected.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Better than okay." I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "That was..."
