It was like trying to move a wall with opinions, but he went. He let me push him onto the bed, let me climb over him, let me straddle one huge thigh while I got my hands on the laces of his pants.
My fingers shook.
I got him out of his pants with some effort, because nothing about him was small or convenient, and then he was in my hands.
I had seen him before. Touched him before. Taken him before.
It still made my brain stutter.
He was thick and hard and hot against my palms, too much for both hands to close around. I wrapped my fingers around him anyway and stroked from root to tip, slowly, watching his stomach pull tight.
His head tipped back against the pillows. “Maisie.”
That was all. Just my name, wrecked in his mouth.
Heat slid through me.
“I’ve got you,” I said.
His eyes snapped back to mine.
I smiled.
It was his line. He knew it. I knew it.
I stroked him again, my thumb dragging over the wetness at the head, and he shuddered hard enough that the bedframe complained.
This massive man, this warrior who could throw someone through a wall, lying still under my hands because I asked him to. Because he trusted me. Because he wanted me enough to shake and still wouldn’t move unless I let him.
I leaned down and kissed his stomach, then the ridged muscles lower, and he sucked in a breath.
“Careful,” he said.
I glanced up. “Are you warning me or yourself?”
“Yes.”
That made me laugh. It came out breathless.
I stroked him faster. His hands fisted in the sheets, and I could feel the struggle in him.
“Maisie.” His voice had gone rough. “Stop.”
I did.
He groaned like that was somehow worse and wrapped a careful hand around my wrist. “Not because I don’t want it,” he said. “If you keep touching me like that, this will be over quickly.”
“That’s not the worst review I’ve ever received.”
His laugh broke apart halfway through. “I want to see you.”
He lifted my shirt over my head slowly, giving me all the time in the world to change my mind. I didn’t. The fabric hit the floor. His gaze dropped to my breasts, and his whole body went still.
He looked hungry.
My nipples tightened under the look alone.
I reached for him again, but he caught my hands and pressed them to my own stomach.
