“Here you are on your knees again.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can even register them. It’s just that he keepsdoing this,and every single time it drives me crazy. I’m not sure whether I’m aroused, frustrated, or a bit of both.
He throws his head back and laughs as his big hands come to rest on my knees. “A natural reaction, I think, for a man like me when he’s before a woman like you. A king bows before his queen if he knows what’s good for him.”
My lips part in wonder. My brain feels empty of all thoughts, the only thing in there is the buzzing of lust.A natural reaction when a man like him is kneeling before a woman like me.
He rests his cheek against my thighs, looking up at me with that intense fire again, but this time there’s no smirk to go along with it, like he abandoned any semblance of his facade. “I want to marry you. But I know I need to prove that I’m husband material— to show you how I’ll treat you for the rest of your life— the kind of dedication and attentiveness I intend to lavish you with eternally.”
Everything within me seems to come to a stuttering halt at his words as I understand what he’s implying, his fingers fiddling with the button of my jeans. Or at least what Ithinkhe’s implying here.
“I’m husband material, leannán, and I’ll prove it to you. Just give me the chance.” His gray eyes are storming in ways I’ve never seen before, reminding me of the Atlantic Ocean in thewinter. Winds that whip the water, waves clashing with the gusts of air, tides fighting with the currents of the skies, ocean against storm. That’s Kerry. A force of nature, a hunger so deep that it’s as old as time.
And just like the ocean, I love it. I respect it. And it rattles something deep within my bones. Fear chasing admiration, awe circling wariness.
“I…” He waits, giving me time and space as my heart runs like a rabbit being chased by a wolf. “I want to give you a chance.”
He gives me a few moments more, his fingers still gripping my knees as he looks up at me. But when it’s clear that I’m not going to say anything more, he prompts me. “And are you going to finally let yourself have whatyouwant instead of what others want?”
I clench my jaw and unclench it, the very concept is scary after so long of denying myself. Especially when it comes fromthisman. Like fearing dogs your whole life and then finally feeling comfortable with them, only to sit down with a wolf. A trial by fire.
“Make sure this is whatyouwant, Amy. Not whatIwant.” His words are soothing, but I know the truth as soon as he presents the question.
No.He wants this, that much is clear. But the struggle within me isn’t because Idon’twant it, but because Ido.Gods above, I do. And that’s what’s scary, especially when I know my family, most of society, and maybe even my best friendwould be upset with me over this. Something I’ve desperately tried to avoid my entire life.
“I want this.”I want this as much as you do. Even if I shouldn’t. Even if I just asked for space. I want him too much to think clearly.
He seems to recognize what I didn’t say, because those gray eyes widen. He leans his chin on my thigh. “Okay, then. Let me show you just how good of husband material I am.”
His hands slowly drag up my thighs. The air stutters out of my lungs like he stole it from me.
“Raise your hips, leannán. Let me see you. Let me get a taste for what I’ve beenstarvingfor.”
I arch my hips towards him, and he sits back enough to drag my jeans down me. He tosses them across the room, and they haven’t even landed before his hands are on me again, sliding up the bare skin of my thighs.
“As soft as I knew you’d be, love. I promise, I’ll be good for you. Please. Let me.”
His words stir a bright flame of desire within me that I didn't even know existed.I’ll be good for you.I didn’t know a man on his knees,beggingto eat me out was a kink of mine. Gods above, I didn’t know that this would be whatKerryis into, either. I would’ve never guessed, based on his desire for control and how effortlessly dominant he’s been up until now.
And yet, there’s something in his gaze that tells me that, by letting me have the power, he’s making sure I’m respected and comfortable. He’s willing to hand over his dominance to be thoroughly sure I’m consenting. I never knew consent could be so hot, but it is. I didn’t even realize this was something I needed, especially in this situation.
But he did. He knew. He read me like a fucking book and respected boundaries I hadn’t even directly voiced, which is far different than what I’m used to. My parents often neglect to even acknowledge my requests, and my grandparents will scoff and blow off my direct boundary-setting.
But Kerry? He’s different. I don’t have to put in the labor of constantly setting boundaries. He’s going out of his way to be thoughtful and think ahead of my own needs before I evenrealize them. And if he’s willing to do that? Then he’ll be more than willing to listen when I actuallydotell him my boundaries. I think that’s what he meant by telling me to get angry with him.
Please. Let me.Simple words. Ones clearly meant to arouse, and they do. But just like everything that this man does, it’s thoughtful. Controlled. He’s five steps ahead and killing fifteen birds with one stone. He’s refined his skills so much, and he understands me.
It’s something new. Something invigorating. Something thrilling.
Proof that he isn’t likeanyone else,male or otherwise.
I give him a nod.
It’s not enough for him. “Please. Tell me I can, leannán.”
He could demand. He could be forcing me to speak. But he doesn’t. He’s coaxing me out of my shell, giving me space to emerge, making me feelsafe.To feelpowerful.To feelin control.He’s handing it over to me like he understands how important this is.
“You can.” To my own surprise, my voice sounds steady and sure. I’m not sure I could manage saying more than that, though.
He grins, a knowing flicker of sly delight in his gaze, like he knows how much effort that took but also howgoodit felt to take that control in my shaking hands.
