Like I’m being uncovered for the first time instead of tolerated.
Like he finds me just as irresistible as I find him.
“So fucking pretty,” he growls against my skin.
Then he murmurs something else, but I can’t make it out.Something rough and approving and so damn hot it makes moisture flood between my legs.
The sound vibrates through me like a live wire, and I swear I feel it everywhere—anticipation.
He doesn’t rush.He doesn’t treat me like an obligation or a task to complete.
He acts like he’s savoring me.
Like I’m something rare and delicious.
“J.T.,” I breathe, my fingers sliding into his thick salt-and-pepper hair.
It’s softer than I expect.Strong and solid beneath my touch, like the rest of him.
He shifts lower, kisses tracing a path that makes my entire body come alive.
Every place he touches feels newly claimed—not owned, but awakened.
And something inside me unravels.
For years, I lived in a body that felt scrutinized.
Measured.
Found lacking.
Too soft.Too much.Not exciting enough.Not skilled enough.Not desirable enough.
Those words used to echo.
But right now?
They don’t exist.
Because J.T.isn’t treating me like I need improvement.
He’s treating me like I’m the only thing that matters.
Like he’s been starving and I’m the feast.
My insecurities dissolve under his hands.
The voice that used to whisper you’re not enough goes quiet.
In its place is something bold and terrifying and intoxicating.
I feel wanted.
Not politely.
Not conveniently.
But fiercely.
