“What can I do to make you feel good?” she whispered.
“All you must do to make me feel good is breathe,” I said honestly.
“Brent.” She laughed out my name.
“Is this truly what you want?” I asked, my heart banging faster in anticipation. “To make me feel good?”
She bit her bottom lip, her canines digging into her flesh and making her bleed. I ran my thumb over the pebble of blood, and her silver eyes flared white when I sucked it.
“Yes.” It came out needy. She stood on her knees, her fiery gaze falling over me. “Tell me. Show me.”
I kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that she melted into.
“Can I touch you?” I asked, licking my dry lips as I trailed a hand over her side.
“Yes.” That single word stammered out.
I dipped my head, trailing kiss after kiss along the column of her neck. My hand sank beneath her shirt, my palm lingering across her stomach while my thumb grazed the underside of her breast. Her breath hitched, her eyes an impossible, almost translucent white.
Her hand pressed against my chest. With the faintest push, she urged me back. Her attention never left mine as her fingers tugged at the hem of the shirt she wore.My shirt.
The fabric slipped over her shoulders, falling away until nothing was between us but breath and racing hearts.
I froze. Not because of the sight of her, although she was more beautiful than lyrical words could ever convey, but because she let me see her. She chose to be here with me in nothing but her own unguarded self.
Wonder unraveled in my chest, sharp and reverent, until my heart thudded with it. I didn’t see perfection in the lines of her body but saw her. Every curve, every scar. Every bit she gave me felt like a vow I’d die protecting.
“You’re . . .” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat, mesmerized and unable to look away. “You’re exquisite.” I framed her face and pressed the gentlest kiss to her mouth. “I’m going to make you feel so good, every beat is one you’ll want to remember.”
With nerves shimmering behind her eyes, she swallowed hard. “But I want to learn how to make you feel good.”
A ragged sound dragged across my throat. Half groan, half laugh. “Lolli.” Even her nickname felt like a plea. “The way you do that is by letting me take care of you. You have no idea what you already do to me.” I traced her lower lip, letting my thumb linger there longer than I intended. My smoke magic responded with dark wisps curling around her jaw like it wanted to touch her as much as I did. “The best gift you could ever give me is to trust me to show you how good this can be.”
Her chest rose on a shaky inhale, but she nodded. That simple act, her surrender, made my chest tighten. I kissed her again. Slow, lingering, wanting to tell her we could take our time in getting to know her body, reaching for patience while my magic roamed over her, betraying the calm I sought after.
My hands didn’t roam. They cradled, and they caressed. One cupped her cheek, the other held her against my chest. Because if I let them wander, I wouldn’t stop. My smoke swam over herwith the opposite intention, wrapping around her waist, sliding across her hips, eager to explore while I fought for restraint.
I guided her down onto the mat, easing her beneath me but holding most of my weight away. My lips traced her jaw to the hollow of her throat. She trembled with every touch—mine and the smoke that trailed hungrily.
Her hands fluttered to my shoulders, then slid down my arms as though testing what was allowed. My magic followed the path of her fingers, curling around her wrists in a gentle, smoky caress.
I drew myself lower, kissing along her collarbone, the slope of her chest. Her sigh was one of wonder and delight. Every sound she made pulled me in deeper. Every arch of her body was a prayer I wanted to answer over and over again.
I moved with patience, with reverence, mapping her skin as if each inch carried a secret meant only for me to uncover. Beneath my lips, her pulse quickened at her throat. I moved lower, and she clutched my shoulder. My magic didn’t share my patience, though, and it trailed over the curve of her breast, teasing where my mouth had yet to touch. I took her hand and pressed it to my chest, where my heart pounded.
“Feel that?” I whispered. “That’s what you do to me.”
Her fingers curled against my shirt while I traced my mouth down her chest, lingering over every inch of her bare skin. She gasped when my lips brushed the curve of her breast, my smoke tightening around her waist as if it couldn’t bear the wait. I took my time, kissing, tasting, letting her grow accustomed to the tenderness before I closed my mouth around her pebbled nipple. Her back arched, and she let out a sound that was half moan, half plea.
I lifted my head to meet her eyes. “Every sound you make, every inch of this beautiful body is mine to worship. Will you let me?”
With her lips parted, she gave a jerky nod. “Please.”
My fingers slid lower, over the flat of her stomach, only stopping when she tensed. I stilled, giving her a chance to breathe, to pull back if she wanted.
“Is this too much?”
Her hips shifted up, her body answering far clearer than words.
