“Because the world outside is complicated. Because your AI is actively trying to keep you prisoner. Because I have a past that might catch up with me, and I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”
“But tonight,” she said, “we don’t have to think about any of that. Tonight, it’s just us. Here. In this room.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he kissed her again—soft and tender and achingly sweet.
“Tonight,” he agreed. “Just us.”
His mouth drifted down to her neck again. When he reached the neckline of her dress, he paused.
“May I?”
“Yes.” She sat up further, suddenly impatient with the fabric separating them. “Please. I want to feel your skin against mine.”
His eyes darkened, and she realized she’d said the right thing. He reached for the fastenings of her dress, his fingers working them free with surprising dexterity.
The dress gaped open, sliding down to pool around her waist. She hadn’t given any thought to what she wore beneath it—a simple undergarment designed for comfort rather than allure—but Baylin looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“I’ve never seen anything lovelier,” he said, as if reading her mind.
He traced the edge of the soft fabric, just above her breasts, and she felt her nipples tighten beneath the material, aching for his touch.
“More,” she whispered.
He obliged, his hands sliding beneath the fabric to cup her breasts. The contact sent pleasure radiating through her, sharp and sweet. She gasped, her back arching instinctively.
“Like this?” He brushed his thumbs across her nipples, and she cried out at the jolt of sensation.
“Yes. Just like that.”
His hands were warm and sure, kneading and caressing with a confidence that told her he knew exactly what he was doing. She buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him—more of his touch, more of his weight, more of everything.
When he bent to take one nipple in his mouth, wet heat surrounding the sensitive peak through the thin fabric, she nearly came off the bed.
“Baylin!”
He responded by sucking harder, his tongue working against the straining bud. His other hand continued its attentions to her neglected breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers until she was writhing beneath him.
She’d never felt anything like this. The closest she’d come was when she’d accidentally touched herself while bathing, the brief spark of sensation quickly extinguished by guilt and confusion.This was nothing like that—this was an inferno, consuming her from the inside out.
“I can’t—It’s too much—I need?—”
“Shh.” He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “I know what you need.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he was kissing her again, his mouth claiming hers as his hand slid beneath the hem of her dress. When his hand slid between her legs, finding the wetness gathering there, she froze.
“Baylin?”
“I’ve got you. Just feel.”
He stroked her gently, one finger tracing the entrance to her body while his thumb found the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured against her ear. “So ready for me.”
“For you,” she agreed breathlessly. “I’ve never—no one’s ever?—”
“I know.” He kissed her temple, his thumb still moving in lazy circles. “I’ll be careful.”
She nodded, trusting him even as her body trembled with anticipation. When his finger slipped inside her, she gasped at the intrusion—the fullness, the pressure, the sheer intimacy of the act.
