“Green?”
“Yes.”
I entered him slowly.
Only one finger.
No rush.
No assumption that this moment had to become anything beyond itself.
Noah’s head fell back against my shoulder. I kissed the place beneath his ear while my hand learned what his body could accept tonight.
Pressure.
Pause.
A slight change in angle.
His hips shifted.
“There.”
I repeated the movement.
Pleasure showed clearly in his body. His stomach tightened. His lips parted. The hand on my thigh loosened and then gripped again.
“Again?”
“Yes.”
I kept the motion small and careful.
The closeness affected me with an intensity that was almost painful. His trust. The vulnerable openness of his body around my hand. The knowledge that fear remained present and he was choosing to stay anyway.
My own need ached between us.
But this was not a path toward satisfying me.
This was Noah discovering that he could remain inside a frightening moment without being swallowed by it.
His hand moved down his body.
“May I add another finger?” I asked.
He stopped touching himself.
Fear returned in the immediate tension of his spine.
“No.”
I withdrew enough to remove the pressure without leaving him entirely.
“All right.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No apology.”
