The smile that breaks across his face is devastating. Then he sinks to his knees in front of me, and…oh God, I cannot handle this.
His hands slide up my calves, fingers tracing the back of my knees, moving higher to my thighs. He presses a kiss to my hip bone, then another to my stomach, right where I’m most self-conscious, where Derek used to pinch and suggest maybe I should skip dessert.
“Beautiful,” Nitro murmurs against my skin, and I feel the word more than hear it. “So, fucking beautiful, Marley.”
“I’m not—” I start, but he cuts me off with another kiss, this one just below my belly button.
“Yes, you are.” His voice is firm, commanding. “And I’m going to spend all night proving it to you.”
His hands hook into the sides of my underwear, and he looks up at me, those luminous green eyes asking permission. I nod, not trusting my voice, and he draws the lace down slowly, reverently. I step out of them, kick off my heels, and unhook my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then I’m completely bare except for the necklace Sage gave me for Christmas, the tiny charm resting in the hollow of my throat.
Nitro stands, and the height difference between us feels even more pronounced now. He has to be at least six-foot-four,maybe taller, and I’m barely five-foot-two on a good day. He towers over me, and instead of feeling intimidated, I feel… safe.
“Your turn,” I say, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. My hands find the hem of his dress shirt, and I start working the buttons free. He helps, shrugging out of his tux jacket and tossing it somewhere behind him. The shirt follows, revealing the canvas of tattoos I’ve only caught glimpses of before.
My breath catches.
His chest is covered in ink, skulls and roses, gears and wings, words in languages I don’t recognize. Some look new, the colors still vibrant. Others are faded, softened by time and sun. There’s a specific tattoo on his bicep that catches my attention, an upside-down sword with a crown and the word ‘Queenie’ in a bold font that makes my throat tight. My eyes can’t help but focus on the abs. For a man in his forties, his body is in far too good a shape. Surely, what I am looking at right now is illegal?
His belt buckle clinks as I work it open, then the button of his pants, and suddenly I’mveryaware of what we’re about to do. The last time I was with someone was Derek, and that feels like a lifetime ago now. A different version of me who didn’t know what it felt like to be wanted like this.
Nitro kicks off his shoes and slides his pants down. I glance down as his cock springs free, and I can’t help the audible gulp that escapes me. He smirks, and we both stand here, nothing between us except air, anticipation, and the weight of everything we haven’t said.
He cups my face again, tilting my head back so I have to look at him. “You good?” he asks softly.
I nod, then realize that’s not enough. “Yeah. I’m good. More than good.”
“Tell me if that changes. If you need me to slow down or stop or—”
I rise on my toes and kiss him, cutting off his words. He groans into my mouth, hands sliding down to grip my hips, and then we’re moving again. He walks me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed, and I tumble onto the mattress with him following me down.
The weight of him settling between my thighs is perfect. He braces himself on his forearms, keeping most of his weight off me but close enough that I feel every inch of him pressed against me. His kiss turns slower, deeper, as if he’s savoring every second. One hand slides into my hair, angling my head how he wants it, while the other traces patterns down my side, my ribs, my waist, my hip, then my thigh.
“Tell me what you need,” he murmurs against my lips, his breath warm and minty.
“You,” I whisper back, my fingers curling into his hair. “Just you.”
His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, and I feel the callused pad catch moisture I didn’t realize had fallen. “Why are you crying, baby?”
“Because…” My voice breaks, and I have to swallow past the tightness in my throat. “Because no one’s ever looked at me the way you do. Like I’m worth something. Like I’m enough exactly as I am.”
“Marley.” My name is barely a whisper, real and raw. His eyes, those luminous, intense eyes, shine with something that makes my chest ache. “You’re not just enough. You’re fuckingeverything.”
My heart skips in my chest, stuttering against my ribs, and he smiles, that rare, genuine smile that transforms his whole face. He leans in to kiss me again, slower this time, deeper, and I sink into it, into him, letting myself believe that maybe, just maybe, he means it.
His hands slide toward my stomach, palms warm against my skin, and I tense instinctively—old habits, old wounds.
He feels it immediately. “Hey,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “If you don’t want this—”
I catch his wrist, holding his hand against my stomach. “I want this. I want you. I just… I need you to know that I’m not—”
“Stop!” His voice is firm, but his touch remains gentle as he traces small circles on my skin. “Don’t you dare apologize for your body. Don’t you dare tell me anything other than you are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.”
A sob catches in my throat, but before I can spiral, he kisses me again, swallowing my doubts. His hands are everywhere, skimming my sides, cupping my face, threading through my hair, and each touch feels like an argument against every cruel word Derek ever said.
“Let me show you,” Nitro murmurs against my mouth. “Let me show you how I see you.”
I nod, not trusting my voice, and he takes his time, this man who could break me but chooses to worship me instead. He eases himself over my body, and when I resist the urge to cover myself, his sharp inhale is audible.
