"I liked this." She traces a pattern on my chest. "The slowness. The—gentleness. I did."
"But?"
She hesitates. "But I think I liked the first time better."
I go still.
"Not because this wasn't good," she adds quickly. "It was. It was really good. But the first time—" She stops. Starts again. "The first time felt like you wanted me so much you couldn't control yourself. Like you needed me. Like you'd die if you didn't have me right then."
"I did feel that way."
"I know. That's why it was—" She bites her lip. "That's why it was incredible."
I'm trying to process what she's telling me. Trying to reconcile the woman who was so hesitant to ask for what she wanted with the woman who's now telling me she preferred it rough.
"Evie—"
Her eyes find mine in the dark. Steady. Certain. "I'm saying I don't want you to hold back. I'm saying—" She takes a breath. "I've spent my whole life being treated like I'm fragile. Like I'll break if someone pushes too hard. Daniel treated me like I was made of glass, and I hated it. I hated feeling like I couldn't take whatever he gave me."
"You're not fragile."
"I know I'm not. But you're treating me like I am." Her hand comes up to cup my face. "You don't have to be gentle with me. I'm not going to break. I'm asking you—" She swallows. "I'm asking you to stop being a gentleman. Just for tonight. Just with me."
I stare at her.
"Sweetheart." The word comes out strangled. "I'm really trying here. I'm trying to keep the man who lives for the fightaway from you. I’m trying to show you that sex doesn't have to be?—"
"I know what you're trying to show me." She cuts me off, her voice firm. "And I appreciate it. I do. But the man I watched kill people today—the man who held off a small army so I could climb to safety—that man doesn't need to be gentle."
"That's different. That's the job."
"Is it?" She shifts, and suddenly she's straddling me, her thighs bracketing my hips, her hands on my chest. The cold air raises goosebumps on her skin, but she doesn't seem to notice. "You've got rough edges, Jon. That's not a flaw—that's who you are. And I'm telling you—" She leans down, her lips brushing my ear. "I like the rough edges. I want them. I want you to stop treating me like I'll break and start treating me like I can take whatever you give me."
"Evie—"
"Lose control." Her voice is barely a whisper. "For me."
ELEVEN
Beyond Fragile
EVIE
For a long moment,he doesn't move.
I can feel him beneath me—hard again already, his body responding even as his mind resists. His hands are on my hips, but they're not gripping. They're hovering. Hesitant.
"You're sure." His voice is rough. Strained.
"I'm not made of glass." I roll my hips, meeting his resistance with a deliberate challenge. "Daniel spent three years trying to convince me I’d shatter if the wind blew too hard. I’m done being fragile for the sake of a man’s conscience. I want all of you. Not the version you think I can handle. All of it."
Something shifts in his expression. The gentleman disappears. What's left is darker. Hungrier. The predator I glimpsed during the firefight, the one who moves through violence like water through a riverbed.
"You asked for this." His hands tighten on my hips—not hesitant anymore. Claiming. "Remember that."
"I'll remember."
He moves.
