My mouth finds hers—not desperate. Tender. She answers by melting into me, her fingers sliding up my chest to curl around the back of my neck.
"Knox." She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. "I'm scared."
My heart clenches. "Of me?"
"Of how much I want this." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Of how much it's going to change everything."
I rest my forehead against hers. My hands find her waist, and I realize they're trembling. Me. The orc who's faced down warlords and walked away from his birthright without flinching. Shaking like a prospect on his first ride.
"I'm scared too," I admit.
Her eyes widen. "You are?"
"Terrified." I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. "I've never wanted anything the way I want you. Never had anything I was afraid to lose."
She kisses me again—soft, slow, her lips barely brushing mine. We undress each other slowly. Her shirt over her head. My cut laid carefully over the chair. Her jeans sliding down her thighs while I watch her face, memorizing every flicker of expression. My shirt joins hers on the floor, and her fingers trace the scars on my chest like she's reading a map of everywhere I've been.
When we're both bare, I lift her and carry her to the bed. Lay her down like she's made of glass. She reaches for me, tries to pull me down, but I catch her wrists and pin them gently above her head.
"Let me take care of you." My voice comes out rough.
I kiss my way down her body. Worshipping her. My lips trail across her collarbone, between her breasts, down the soft curve of her stomach. She trembles beneath me, her pulse quickening under my mouth.
"Knox..." Her voice breaks.
I settle between her thighs and look up at her—holding her gaze while I lower my mouth to her pussy. "I know, little human."
She's already wet, but I take my time anyway. Long, slow strokes of my tongue, savoring her taste. My fingers slide inside her—one, then two—stretching her gently while I work her clit with an unhurried pressure. She needs to be ready for me, but tonight isn't about getting her there fast. Tonight is about making every second count.
Her hips roll against my hand. Her breathing turns ragged.
"Please," she whispers. "Knox, please..."
"Not yet." I curl my fingers, press deeper, adding a third. She gasps at the stretch, but I feel her body yielding, opening for me. "I need to make sure I won't hurt you."
"You won't." Her hand finds my hair, fingers threading through the strands. "You could never hurt me."
I work her slowly, patiently, until she's dripping wet and trembling on the edge. Only then do I pull my fingers free and climb up her body, positioning myself between her thighs.
The head of my cock notches against her entrance. I freeze.
"Look at me." The words scrape out. "I need to see your eyes."
She looks. And I see everything—fear and trust and love so fierce it steals my breath.
I push inside her. Slowly. Inch by inch. Watching her face the whole time, ready to stop the moment she needs me to. But she doesn't ask me to stop. She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me deeper, her lips parting on a silent moan.
"Sarah." Her name falls from my mouth.
I move inside her—not fucking. Making love. Slow, deep strokes that let me feel every flutter of her inner walls, every hitch of her breath. Her hands frame my face, her thumbs stroking my cheekbones while I rock into her.
"I love you," she breathes.
"I love you too, Sarah." I press my forehead to hers. "More than anything. More than everything."
The pleasure builds slowly, a rising tide instead of a crashing wave. I feel her getting close—the way her body tightens around me, the way her breath comes faster—and I hold myself on the edge, waiting.
My mouth trails down her throat, kissing and licking, until I reach the junction where her neck meets her shoulder.
