"You are." His hands slide down to my leggings, his claws hooking into the waistband. "Small. Soft. Fragile. And absolutely, devastatingly perfect."
He pulls the leggings down slowly, exposing my skin inch by inch. The fabric is damp with sweat and volcanic oil, clinging to my thighs as he drags it down my legs.
I'm not wearing underwear.
I didn't think I'd need it for a massage session.
His breath catches when he realizes.
"Tamsin."
My name is a prayer. A curse. A vow.
He tosses the leggings aside and spreads my thighs with his hands, his palms warm and possessive against my skin.
I'm completely bare beneath him.
Exposed.
Vulnerable.
And so turned on I can barely think.
"I have never—" He stops. His jaw clenches. "I have never wanted anything the way I want you."
"Then take me," I say.
His eyes snap to mine.
"You do not understand what you are asking."
"I understand perfectly." I reach down and hook my fingers into the waistband of his pants. "I'm asking you to stop holding back. I'm asking you to claim me. I'm asking you to make me yours."
The growl that rumbles through his chest is so deep I feel it in my bones.
He strips out of his pants in seconds, the fabric tearing as he shoves it down his hips.
And then I see him.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
His cock is—
I don't even have words.
It's massive. Thick. Ridged along the entire shaft with pronounced textures that look almost geometric, like someone carved them into stone. The head is flushed dark, almost purple, and there's a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.
The size disparity is staggering.
I'm small. Compact. Human.
He's—
He's not.
"I will be careful," he says, his voice strained. "I will go slow. I will not hurt you."
