“Can we try something?” he murmurs.
Yes. Yes. Yes?—
“Both feet on the bed this time?”
My libido takes a nosedive as my muscles lock up like teeth of a zipper—strict, unyielding, confining me in my fear. “I?—”
“You can do it, Clover. Both feet.” His voice is a salve to my fears, but not enough to make me forget years of surviving.
Yet I want to do this for him. More importantly, I want to do it for myself.
Slowly, reluctantly, I pull my left foot up onto the mattress, while my breathing takes on an aggravatingly shallow edge.
“Thank you,” he whispers into my hair. “Now.” He adjusts his grip so I’m flush against his body and…holy shit. “Tell me about this cock-stick you were muttering about.”
I gasp, splutter, cringe, and try to pull away all at the same time, but he holds strong, his head dropping to the spot between my shoulder and neck until his warm breath on my sensitive skin causes me to shiver while he chuckles and I silently die of mortification.
At least my fear has been shoved right out of my mind with two hands.
His fingers splay across my lower belly, and heat radiates to every nerve ending north and south of the border.
“Valen?”
“Hmm?” His fingers trace the elastic of my pajama pants, and my hips move on their own. It’s a slow roll that presses me against his growing erection.
“What are we doing?” I hate how small my voice sounds again. After a full day of feeling empowered, my insecurities are sneaking in and taking over.
“Exploring,” he rumbles against my skin. His lips dance across my shoulder in a sexual tango I can’t keep up with. “Are you up for…exploring with me, Honeybee?”
Though my core clenches with a gianthell yes, unfortunately, it’s my insecurities in the driver’s seat.
“What—what happens when this is…over? When you?—”
I screech when he rolls and pins me to the mattress with his muscular body. His delicious weight holds me in place, and the tension in my shoulders uncoils.
“I’ve fucked up somewhere.” His low timber is hypnotic.
“What?”
“Everything in my soul is directing me to you, Honeybee. I don’t know what the future holds, but I don’t plan to walk away from this connection until we’ve explored every inch of it and have determined together what the future looks like. And none of that can happen until we’ve caught this asshole.”
He’s— “Are you angry?”
“Yes.” He settles more of his weight on top of me, and my entire body sighs in response. His blue eyes flame at the sound. “I’m pissed that you were taken from me for so many years. I’m pissed that I don’t recall our connection, even though I clearly feel it. I’m pissed that someone thinks they can stalk and harass you. I’m pissed that I want to kiss every inch of your skin, yet there’s a contract somewhere that says I’m hired to protect you.”
“You’re fired. You are fired. Right now. I accept kisses in arrears. Lots and lots of kisses.”
He laughs so hard it presses his lower half into my core, and I moan in blissful agony. He’s so close, yet so far away.
“Honeybee,” he groans, dropping a hand to my hip to keep me still.
How embarrassing—I’m grinding against him and can’t stop.
“We don’t have to rush into this,” he moans. “We can take our time.”
I claw at his T-shirt. “Oh, I want to rush. I’m totally fine with rushing.”
In a move straight out of a movie, he locks both my wrists in one of his big hands, holding them against his belly as he straddles me.
