"I didn't want to feel like I was taking advantage of you," I admit. "You're vulnerable, you're scared, and I—"
"You're not taking advantage of me, Marcus." She moves her finger from my lips. Traces my jaw instead. "I want this. The kiss. And much more."
Much more.
Those two words are doing heavy lifting because I want much more too. Want it so badly I can barely think straight.
I place my hand on her thigh. Give her time to push me away. To tell me to stop, but she doesn't. I keep moving up. Slowly. Watching her face for any sign of hesitation. Her breath gets heavier. Her lips part. But still, she doesn't stop me.
My hand reaches the crease of her jeans. I press there. Just enough pressure to feel—
She's damp. Wet enough that I can feel it through the denim.
Fuck.
I look at her. She's clearly embarrassed. Cheeks burning red. But she's not pulling away.
"I want to help you," I say. Voice rough. "Want to make sure you're taken care of. Will you let me?"
"I want it too." She swallows hard. "But what if someone enters the room?"
I'm up and across the room before she finishes the sentence. Lock the door from the inside. The bolt slides home with a solid click. When I turn back, Nora is watching me. Her eyes are dark. Pupils blown wide.
"Are you sure?" I need to ask. Need to know this isn't just adrenaline making decisions for her. "Is this what you want, or do you feel like you have to because I helped you? Because you don't. You don't owe me anything, Nora."
She shakes her head. "I want this, Marcus."
And then she reaches for the button of her jeans.
Pops it open. Slides the zipper down.
Holy fuck.
She pulls her jeans down her hips, lifting herself slightly off the bed to work them past her ass. Then she spreads her legs for me.
I can see it. The wet spot right in the middle of her panties. Dark against the light fabric. Evidence of how turned on she is. I gasp. Actually gasp like I've never seen a woman before.
My cock strains against my jeans. Hard enough to hurt. Hard enough that I have to adjust myself or risk permanent damage.
I walk toward her. My feet move on their own. And then I'm kneeling before her. On the floor between her spread legs like I'm praying at an altar.
Maybe I am.
She kicks her jeans off her ankles. They land somewhere behind me. I don't care. Can't care about anything except the woman in front of me.
I start with her legs. Kissing a path from her knee up her inner thigh. Taking my time. Savoring every inch of soft skin. She smells incredible, clean and female and aroused.
She tilts her head back. A small sound escapes her throat.
I keep moving higher. Kissing. Licking. Tasting. My hands grip her thighs, spreading them wider. When I reach the crease where thigh meets hip, I inhale deeply.
So fucking good.
The scent of her arousal is intoxicating. Makes my head spin. Makes every thought that isn't about making her come disappear completely. I look up at her one last time. Making sure. Checking. Her eyes are closed. Her chest is heaving. Her hands are gripping the bedsheets.
Permission granted.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pull them to the side.
