"You're so fucking beautiful," he says, and there's something raw in his voice that makes something twist behind my ribs.
I reach for his shirt, pull it off, run my hands over the hard planes of his chest and the scars that mark years of violence. "So are you."
He huffs a quiet laugh. "I'm not?—"
"You are." I meet his eyes. "To me, you are."
His pupils dilate. He guides me onto the bed, following me down, and this time when he kisses me, it's different. Tender enough that I have to blink back tears. His mouth moves over mine slowly, thoroughly, like he has all the time in the world.
He takes his time undressing me, removing each piece of clothing with deliberate care. When I'm finally bare beneath him, he just looks at me for a long moment, his gaze tracking over every inch of exposed skin. The attention makes me squirm. I'm already wet.
"What?" I ask.
"I'm memorizing you." His hand traces down my side, over my hip, and I shiver. "Right here. Mine."
I reach up and pull him down into a kiss. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." He kisses me again, then moves lower. His mouth finds my breast, tongue circling my nipple before he draws it into his mouth and sucks. The pull goes straight to my core, and I arch into him with a gasp.
He works his way down with deliberate care, kissing and tasting, building heat slowly instead of the desperate rush of before. His mouth trails over my ribs, my stomach, the jut of my hipbone. When his mouth moves lower, breath warm between my legs, I'm already trembling, already aching.
"Let me take care of you," he says, and then his mouth is on me.
This time is different. There's no urgency, no rush. He explores me with his tongue, learning what draws whimpers from my throat, what makes my hips roll against his mouth. Broad strokes alternate with focused attention on my clit, building pleasure in slow waves. When his fingers work into me, they move with complete focus, curling to hit that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
"Micah—" I clutch at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away from the intensity.
"That's it," he murmurs against me, voice rough. "I want to hear you."
He stretches me wider, and the fullness combined with the relentless pressure of his tongue makes my thighs shake. He works me with practiced attention, coaxing my pleasure higher with every stroke. When he sucks my clit while his fingers thrust deep, the orgasm builds slow and devastating.
"Show me," he says against my skin.
The words, the command in his voice, the feel of him inside me and his mouth on me—it all crashes together. I come with a cry, my whole body tightening as waves of pleasure pulse through me. He doesn't stop, gentler now but still focused, drawing it out until I'm shaking and breathless.
Only then does he move back up my body, kissing his way over my stomach and ribs and breasts. I taste myself on his lips when he kisses me, and my chest goes tight.
"Micah." I reach for him, needing him closer. "Please."
He strips off all his clothes and I finally get to see all of him—the hard muscles, the scars, his cock thick and ready. He settles between my thighs and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him close.
The blunt head of his cock presses against me, and then he's pushing inside, slow and steady, filling me completely. The stretch is perfect, still sensitive from coming, and I groan at the feeling of him seated deep.
He stays still for a moment, letting me adjust, his breath hot against my temple. "Okay?"
"Perfect." I rock my hips, urging him to move.
He groans and starts to move, finding a rhythm that's slow and deep and relentless. Every thrust drags against sensitivenerves, every withdrawal makes me desperate for him to fill me again.
I let myself be vulnerable in a way I haven't been before, let him see everything—the fear I carry, the walls I've built, the parts of myself I've kept locked away since he disappeared. And he meets me there, open and present, giving me the same vulnerability in return.
"Look at me," he says, and I open my eyes to find him watching me with complete focus. "I want to see you when you come."
The intensity in his gaze, combined with the slow grind of his hips, steals my breath. He shifts the angle slightly and hits deeper, and a moan escapes.
"That's it." His voice is rough. "Use me."
He reaches between us, thumb finding my clit, and the added sensation has me gasping. The pressure builds fast, coiling tight. Every thrust drives him deeper, every circle of his thumb pushes me higher.
