He was beautiful. All lean muscle and soft tan pelt, his long dark hair falling over his shoulders, those incredible eyes watching me with a mixture of desire and vulnerability that made my chest ache. And he was aroused—hard and thick, his cock jutting toward me in a way that made heat pool between my thighs and my mouth go dry.
"Can I—" I reached out tentatively, my fingers hovering just above him. "Can I touch you?"
"Please." The word came out strangled. "Gods, Merrilee, please."
I wrapped my hand around him, marveling at the contrast of soft skin over rigid heat. He was bigger than I'd expected, thick enough that my fingers didn't quite meet aroundhis girth. When I stroked him experimentally, he groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
"Is this okay?" I asked, doing it again, watching his face for his reaction.
"More than okay." His voice was rough, strained. "You're—fuck, that feels incredible."
I stroked him again, learning what made him gasp, what made his hands clench at his sides, what made his head fall back. The soft pelt at the base of his cock was damp with arousal, and when I brushed my thumb over the head, I felt the slickness there, evidence of how much he wanted this. Wanted me.
"I want to taste you," I said, the words coming out before I could second-guess them. "Can I?"
His eyes went wide, his breathing stopping entirely for a moment. "You don't have to—"
"I want to." I sank to my knees in front of him, looking up at him through my lashes. "I want to make you feel good."
"Merrilee—" Whatever he was going to say died in a groan as I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.
He tasted like salt and musk with as faint spiciness. I started slow, learning the shape of him, the weight of him on my tongue. His hands came to my hair, not pushing, just holding, his fingers trembling against my scalp. I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, and the sound he made—half groan, half whimper—sent a bolt of heat straight through me.
"Gods, your mouth," he gasped, his hips rocking forward slightly before he caught himself. "I'm not going to last if you keep—"
I pulled back, releasing him with a soft pop, and looked up at him. His eyes were wild, his chest heaving, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding still. "I don't want you to last," I said. "I want to make you come apart."
"Not yet." He pulled me to my feet, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that tasted like desperation and need. "Not without you."
He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, gasping as the movement pressed his cock against my core. He carried me to the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the hunger in his eyes.
"Last chance," he said, his voice rough. "Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk away."
"I want this." I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, making sure he saw the truth in my eyes. "I want you, Ahrick. Not because it's strategic. Not because we have to. Because I choose you. Because being with you makes me feel alive again."
Something in his expression cracked open, raw and vulnerable. "I don't deserve you," he whispered. "After everything I've done—"
"You deserve to be wanted." I pulled him down for a kiss. "You deserve to be chosen. And I'm choosing you."
He kissed me back with a desperation that stole my breath, his hands moving over me with renewed purpose.
"Perfect," he breathed against my lips. "You're perfect."
His hand slid between my thighs, and I gasped at the first touch of his fingers against my slick heat. He explored me slowly, carefully, watching my face as he learned what made me gasp, what made me arch into his touch.
"So wet," he murmured, his voice full of wonder. "Is this all for me?"
"Yes." The word came out as a moan as his fingers found my clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. "God, yes, all for you."
He worked me with practiced skill, his fingers sliding through my wetness, teasing my entrance before returning to that bundle of nerves that made stars burst behind my eyelids.When he finally slid one finger inside me, I cried out, my hips bucking against his hand.
"More," I gasped. "Please, Ahrick, I need more."
He added a second finger, stretching me, filling me, his thumb still working my clit in maddening circles. The dual sensation was almost too much, pleasure building inside me like a wave about to crest. His mouth found my breast again, sucking and licking and biting, and the combination of sensations pushed me closer to the edge.
"That's it," he murmured against my skin. "Let go for me."
His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made me see stars, and I shattered.
