When a soft mewl slipped past her throat, it was like he lost all his control. His lips dropped to the curve of her jaw, the column of her throat, back up to the shell of her ear.
“If you’re sure, love,” he whispered, “then turn around.”
She didn’t hesitate. She spun in his arms, her back now to him, chest to the wall. Sebastian placed another gentle, delicate kiss to the space behind her ear.
Her breath caught when his fingers brushed her spine, right over the ties to her dress. With a deft tug, the fabric loosened.
She didn’t give herself time to doubt or think. She simply shrugged out of the sleeves, letting the layers of silk and tulle slip over her body, pooling on the ground at her feet. She still wore her undergarments—feminine and lacy and baby pink, her favorite set.
Ciana was so thankful to past her for always caring about what she wore under her dresses. It was one of the little ways she’d found to make herself feel beautiful, even on days when she felt dirty and anything but.
Sebastian’s calloused hands skimmed over her bare skin. His breath tickled the back of her neck.
“You’re beautiful, Ciana,” he whispered, and she was sure her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Whirling, she leaped into his embrace, her arms winding up his shoulders. His hands trailed down to the backs of her thighs, gripping tight, before lifting her off the floor. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, her chest pressed to his.
They moved, Sebastian’s steps steady and sure. The solid oak of the study table met the backs of her thighs as he set her down, hands sweeping up to her hips.
Right to the hem of her underwear.
His thumb swept a path over the lace, her breath stuttering. It was lower than anyone had touched her in a long time.
Even then, it had never felt likethis. Never had she been touched with such gentleness, such care.
The difference was so stark, she didn’t even feel a twinge of fear.
“If anything is too much,” Sebastian murmured, thumb still sweeping back and forth, “all you have to do is tell me to stop.”
Ciana swallowed, nodding.
“Good. You’re in charge here, love.” Sebastian pressed another gentle kiss to her lips, then one to her jaw. “If you’re ready, all I want to do is touch you.”
Gods. The soothing rumble of his voice, the gentleness of his embrace. She feared she would combust from it all.
“Please,” she said, nearly a whine. “Please touch me.”
Sebastian groaned. “Thank the gods.”
When his thumb finally brushed over her, Ciana saw stars.
His touches were gentle and tentative and patient. He peppered kisses along her jaw down her throat, an arm braced behind her. She clung to his shoulder, chest heaving with her breaths, as his fingers slipped beneath the lace.
She gasped and shuddered. His touches gave to her; they did not take. So much love and thankfulness and safety swelled in her chest.
His mouth returned to hers, capturing her sharp intake of breath.
She’d expected her body to revolt. To lock up, as it once had. But she felt nothing but mind-numbing bliss, the sensation new and foreign but beautiful and perfect.
Ciana melted into Sebastian as he taught her what it was to be loved.
She nearly growled when he withdrew from her. He slid his mouth to her ear, holding her still.
“Can I taste you, love?”
She blinked, her mind still hazy. “Taste me?”
“Yes.” He pulled back, finding her gaze. His fingers again brushed over her core, a shiver chasing up her spine. “Have you been kissed here before?”
Oh.
