She’s trembling.
Not out of fear.
Out of anticipation. Out of want. Out of restraint.
Good.
That’s exactly where I need her.
I move my hand slowly up her waist. She exhales, a tiny, helpless sound that hits me straight in the chest.
Her body leans into mine without permission. Her fingertips graze my shirt. She steadies herself against me.
Beautiful.
“You came,” I murmur.
She swallows hard. “I shouldn’t have.”
“But you did.”
She nods once.
Small. Shy. Destroyed.
“Why?” I ask softly.
Her voice cracks. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Heat surges through me.
Control wavers. Just a little.
I step closer.
She has to tilt her chin up to keep looking at me.
Good. I like her looking at me.
“You’re shaking,” I whisper.
“I know.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
She hesitates.
Then, barely audible, “No.”
My restraint snaps in one clean line.
I slip an arm around her waist. Pull her against me. Her breath catches hard against my chest.
Her hands come up, tentative, touching my shirt my shoulders my neck like she’s afraid she’ll forget how I feel.
She won’t.
I lower my forehead to hers.
