Bramwell’s fingers tightened slightly at my waist while his gaze held mine with quiet intensity.
"And?"
I blinked, surprised that he had already guessed it wasn’t everything I wanted to say.
"Go on, love. It’s me. Whatever you want."
"I… praise."
A soft smile curved his mouth. "Well, that’s very easy. I'm absurdly attracted to you. Completely and hopelessly gone for you, April. And yet I've been surviving mostly on hand-holding and the occasional kiss like a man rationing water in the desert," he murmured softly.
Heat rushed instantly into my face. A faint smile touched his mouth, affectionate and suffering all at once.
"Not that I’m complaining," he added quickly. "I would take you curled against my chest on the couch over almost anything else in this world."
His thumb brushed lightly against my side.
"But God," he whispered, voice roughening slightly, "I need you to understand that I’m trying to behave while being incredibly obsessed with you because I have decided to follow your pace."
My breath came out uneven and he smiled faintly. His hands moved to my shoulders, giving me the full shape of his intention before acting. When I didn't pull back, he eased my shirt from one shoulder and pressed his mouth to the bare skin there.
"So pretty," he murmured.
Heat rose into my face. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind my cheek, and said, "You're a miracle to look at."
His fingertips traced down the side of my neck, following its line as if memorizing it. His fingers found the hem of my shirt and paused. "Can I?"
I nodded.
He lifted it slowly, inch by careful inch, his hands warm where they skimmed my ribs and stomach. Each new stretch of skin seemed to require his attention before he moved further, as if he had no interest in rushing.
His mouth pressed against my ribs. "God," he breathed. Higher, his lips brushed the underside of my sternum. "Do you have any idea how long I've been thinking about this?"
My instinct was to fold inward, the reflex to make myself smaller. Bramwell caught my wrists gently. "Don't," he said softly. "Please don't. I want to see you." His thumbs moved in slow circles against my pulse. "All of you. Let me."
His mouth followed the map his hands had drawn, softly at my shoulder, lingering in the warm hollow of my throat, resting along the gentle curve of my collarbone. He brushed the shell of my ear, then the soft pad beneath it, each kiss slow and reverent, as if committing each point to memory. A quick, featherlight press to the top of my upper lip made me inhale.
"You're beautiful," he breathed against the inside of my wrist. "So beautiful," he murmured near my jaw, then against my temple. "Genuinely, completely, utterly beautiful."
A sound escaped me, part breath, part laugh, part something unnameable. Bramwell pulled back just enough to see my face. His look then was the most unguarded thing I'd ever seen. He moved to the button of my jeans but paused. "Still okay?"
I nodded. "Tell me if anything feels wrong," he added. "Even a little."
He unfastened the button slowly, his eyes flicking to my face then back down. When he pushed the denim over my hips, he leaned forward and kissed the inside of my knee so gently my whole body tensed.
"Too much?" he asked.
"No," I whispered.
He soothed my calves with his hands as he helped me free the rest of the fabric, speaking quietly between kisses in a voice low and grounding enough to steady the panic that tried to rise.
"I could spend hours touching you and still find something new to worship," he murmured, mouth lingering at the inside of my thigh.
Emotion tightened in my throat. Bramwell shifted closer until he was between my knees, forehead resting briefly against my stomach before he looked up.
"I may be the one on my knees," he said quietly, fingertips curling against my thighs, "but you are the one who leaves me feeling reverent, April. I don't think you understand what standing near you feels like," he admitted. "What your beauty does to me." His thumb stroked slowly against my skin. "You affect me in ways I don't know how to explain yet."
The words nearly undid me. Nobody had ever spoken of me or my body as something worthy of gentleness. He leaned close enough for me to feel his breath.
