Her eyes unconsciously flicked down to her chest, but I caught it.
“Scars and all,” I said simply.
She still didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t push it. Instead, I leaned back, giving her room and letting my words settle before shifting gears.
“I need a break from the briefing packets. How are you feeling? You want to try Dr. Hampton’s homework?” I asked, brow raised.
A blush bloomed over her skin as her eyes lifted through her lashes. She gave a small nod.
I stood quickly, not giving her a chance to change her mind, and she followed without a word.
The walk to her bedroom was quiet, but not empty. Arousal and nerves threaded through the air between us, thick enough to feel. I stepped into her bedroom ahead of her, glancing back to make sure she hadn't run away.
Arranging the space without rushing, I stripped the blankets and pillows off her mattress and set them aside before kicking off my shoes and sliding down my pants, foldingeverything neatly on the floor.
When I laid back in the center of the mattress, wearing nothing but briefs, I made a point of going still, arms relaxed, palms open, giving her nothing to react to but simple presence.
The control was hers.
She hesitated near the doorway for a moment, watching me, her breathing just slightly uneven now, a flush still reddening her cheeks.
“Come here, Lena,” I said quietly, not commanding but inviting. “Remember what Doctor Hampton said, you're running the show.”
She moved, small steps bringing her closer until she reached the edge of the mattress and stopped, looking down at me as if she were debating where on my body to start.
“You don’t have to rush it,” I added. “Set the pace. Take whatever you want from this.”
She bent over and her hand lifted, stalling midair before lowering just enough to brush against my arm, the contact so light it barely registered at first.
But she felt it.
I saw it in the way her breath caught, in the slight tension that ran through her as she forced herself to stay.
“That’s it,” I murmured, keeping my voice even. “Stay with it.” Dr. Hampton said I could encourage her and I wanted Lena to know how well she was doing.
When she made contact again, her fingers pressed a little more firmly, not pulling away and letting herself embrace it instead of retreating. Then she dropped down, letting her knees sink into the mattress as her hand moved slowly along my arm, tracing the lines of my muscle with growing confidence.
Her hesitation didn’t disappear entirely, but it changed shape, less fear now, more curiosity and awareness of what she was doing.
I exhaled, keeping my body relaxed beneath her, even as the air between us heated.
“You’re doing so good, runt” I whispered.
Warmth filled her eyes as she met mine for a brief second, before returning her focus to her hand as it moved higher now.
Her fingers glided down my forearm, tracing each vein like she was mapping them. When she reached my hand, she didn’t rush, trailing over each finger, one at a time, as if she was learning what washersto feel.
I let out a slow breath, trying to stay composed in the moment, but my mind couldn't help wandering.
A memory hit…
The way my fingers, the same ones she was tracing now, had moved, in and out of her wet heat. How her walls had tightened around them, in a frenzy of lust and need. So different from the control she clung to now.
My jaw tightened as I tried forcing the thought away, but my body reacted before I could help it. My cock jerked, hardening and tenting my underwear.
Her gaze followed, drifting downward for just a second. A little gasp slipped past her lips.
“Sorry,” I muttered under my breath.
