“Troy,” I whisper breathlessly as his hand slides along my inner thigh.
His forehead presses briefly against mine. “You sure?”
The question alone nearly wrecks me all over again. Not because he’s hesitant. Because he cares enough to ask.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
Then he kisses me again while his hand slowly, carefully explores lower. My entire body arches instantly.
“Oh God.”
“Yeah?” His voice sounds rough enough to make me shiver. “Tell me what you like.”
The words shouldn’t affect me as much as they do.
And when he finally slides inside me slowly, carefully, my entire body goes taut beneath him.
“Troy—”
His mouth finds mine instantly.
“I got you,” he murmurs against my lips. “I got you.”
The words wrap around me almost as tightly as his body does.
The stretch burns briefly before giving way to something overwhelming and full and impossibly intimate.
He stills immediately, breathing hard against my mouth like he’s fighting for control.
“Jesus,” he mutters quietly. “You feel…”
I kiss him before he can finish the sentence because I’m pretty sure my brain stopped functioning somewhere around the moment he said I got you.
Troy moves slowly at first.
Carefully. Giving me time to adjust to his size. Like he’s making sure I feel every inch of him.
Every thrust drags another helpless sound from my throat while the storm rages softly outside and the fire crackles low somewhere beyond the bedroom walls.
Nothing has ever felt like this. Not just physically.
I feel wanted. I feel protected. I feel seen.
Troy kisses me through all of it, rough hands gentle against my skin while pleasure builds hotter and tighter with every slow roll of his hips.
And when I finally fall apart beneath him, he follows seconds later with my name breaking from his mouth like a confession.
Afterward, we lie tangled together beneath the blankets while snow continues drifting softly outside.
Troy traces lazy patterns along my bare shoulder for several quiet minutes before finally speaking.
“You asked me before why I let people believe the rumors about me.”
I glance up at him sleepily. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“I know.” He swallows hard. “I wasn’t in prison.”
“I figured.”
