Page 200 of Operation: Defiance

“I’m sure.”

His pants and black briefs hit the floor.

Seeing him like this…the spark of awareness is so sharp, it’s almost overwhelming. The sensations flooding me don’t line up with anything I’ve ever felt before. The desire and excitement building are tempered by a thread of fear.

If I have to stop, will that fracture whatever this is between us?

Asher notices. He always notices.

He pulls the blankets up to cover himself, even turns away just enough that he can’t see my face. But he’s still here. Still close enough for me to reach out and touch.

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” he says softly.

I press my thumb and index finger together so hard, the tips turn white. Then my heels to the mattress. Four counts in. Hold. Six out.

I don’t want to stop.

I reach for him, my hand wrapping around his bicep. “No. Touch me. Please.”

He turns back slowly. “Where?”

I guide his hand to my breast. He holds there, and the stillness is almost too much for me. I want more. After what feels like forever, he skates his thumb over my nipple.

A tiny whimper escapes my throat, the sensations stacking on top of one another so quickly, they’re dizzying. My thoughts scatter, and his face starts to blur.

“Wait.”

He stills.

“I need…”

Words. I need words. But they won’t come. So I give up on searching, and lay my fingers against the pulse of his neck. The beat is real. Strong. Exactly what I need to remind myself I’m allowed to want.

He centers me in a way nothing and no one ever has before. The heat of his skin, his scent. The way his muscles shift as he leans closer.

This kiss is harder. More in every way. He cups my other breast with his free hand, and I moan.

When we part this time, I get to my knees and slide my underwear down my hips. I almost fall over, but he steadies me, his eyes locked on mine until I manage to free myself completely.

His gaze travels the length of me. I expect hunger. Desire. Instead, he looks stunned. Like he can’t believe I’m real.

My ribs ache as I sink back down. “I…don’t know…”

“Nothing else needs to happen—” He reaches for the blanket, but I grab the edge first and pull it away from his body. He’s harder than before.

“That’s not it. I’m…working on the geometry. Ribs. Shoulder. You.” I touch him again. Exploring all the way down to his hips with my hands. Mapping him the way I map everything in my life. Angles. Curves. Softness. Strength. All the way to the deep v of muscle leading to a patch of wiry hair around his dick.

My cheeks are on fire. The world feels real in a way I’ll hold onto forever. A way I didn’t know could make me feel so alive.

I stop short of touching his shaft. I want to. But…before tonight, sex was just the logical next step in a relationship. Once, on a field op years ago, a much needed release. This…this is so much more.

“Lie back. I need…to be on top.”

Asher positions himself in the center of the bed, tears open the condom, and rolls it over his length with a groan.

It takes me longer than I’d like to figure out how to position myself. My body still isn’t mine in all the ways I’d like. But Asher doesn’t rush me. When I wobble, his hands mold to my hips—not pinning, just stabilizing me so I don’t fall.

I brace myself with my hands below his shoulders, the strength in his muscles banishing the last of my fear.