The hollow of my throat.
The sensitive spot behind my ear that makes me shiver.
He's taking his time.
Taking his timelike he has all the time in the world for me. Like there's nowhere else he'd rather be than here, in this cramped shower, laying worship along my skin while the water runs hot and the steam wraps around us like a cocoon.
I've never experienced this.
The attention.
The care.
Every Alpha I've been with before treated my body like a destination—something to get to as quickly as possible, to use and discard and forget about. Even the ones who weren't cruel wererushed, focused on their own pleasure, counting down the seconds until they could finish and leave.
Sage isn't rushing.
Sage is... savoring.
His hands roam my body with the same deliberate attention as his mouth—tracing the lines of my ribs, the dip of my waist, the curve of my hips. Every touch is electric. Every caress sends sparks shooting through my nervous system, awakening parts of me I didn't know were asleep.
"You're shaking," he murmurs against my skin.
I am.
Trembling, actually—fine tremors that have nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the overwhelming sensation of being touched like Imatter.
"I'm not used to this," I admit.
The words come out smaller than I intend.
More vulnerable.
He pulls back to look at me, water streaming down both our faces, his green-gold eyes searching mine.
"Used to what?"
"Being... touched. Like this." I gesture vaguely, frustrated by my own inability to articulate. "Like you're not in a hurry. Like you actually want to be here instead of just wanting to get off and leave."
Something dark flickers across his expression.
Anger, I realize.
Not at me.
At everyone who came before.
"Then they were idiots," he says simply. "Every single one of them."
Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine again—softer this time, almost worshipful, like he's trying to apologize for sins that weren't his. His hands frame my face, thumbs stroking my cheekbones, and when he pulls back, there's a tenderness in his eyes that makes my chest crack open.
"I'm not going anywhere, Seraphine." His voice is rough. "Thisisn't going anywhere. Whatever this is, this connection we're building, I'm not in a hurry to reach the finish line."
My eyes burn.
Don't cry. Don't cry. You've cried enough today.
I blink rapidly, forcing the tears back, and summon a smirk that's mostly bravado.
