"Why?"
"Because…" He paused.
"Because of what had happened to me?" I finished for him.
"Yes."
"It wasn't consensual. This is different. This is what I want."
He drew a lungful of air through his teeth. There was a shaky quality to his inhale. "I don't think I can control myself with you. I'm not the one to do this with."
"You're perfect," I murmured as I landed a kiss on the spot above his collarbone.
He grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and slid it off over my head. He was slow, almost methodical, like he was terrified of doing something wrong.
"Hey," I said, resting my hand on his cheek. "Don't treat me like something broken. The last thing I need for this is to define my entire life and the way people behave around me."
"How do you want me to behave around you?" he asked in a strained raspy rumble.
I brought my mouth to his ear and whispered, "Like a woman you want to fuck into the next solar system."
When our eyes met in the dimness of the room, his were different. Lustful and a little unhinged.
"There you go," I breathed out and laid back onto the blanket, baring myself to him entirely.
He shook as he leaned in. His lips touched the fading bruising on my throat first, then slipped down to my shoulder, my chest.
Every mark still left on my skin… He kissed it away.
When his mouth reached the waistband of my panties, he looked at me for permission.
I nodded, suddenly self-aware of the fact that I was primed and ready to go. Would he like it? Would he be surprised? Would he care at all?
He hissed as he hooked his fingers around the lace fabric of my panties. My own pulse was a fast drum in my ears as he slipped the underwear down my legs and tossed it somewhere.
Then he gently parted my legs with his hand and kissed the inside of my thighs, my knees, my hip bones, then moved up to my stomach and my breasts. He ran his tongue over my nipple, then sucked it between his lips and pinched it with his teeth.
I gasped and arched my back. A flash of pleasure rushed down my limbs, warm and new.
"Is this what you like?" he asked darkly.
I nodded frantically, not ready or able to talk.
He moved down to my stomach again. Licked my belly button and settled between my legs.
When he swiped his tongue over my pussy, I heard myself moan from the contact.
My eyes squeezed shut, and I just allowed myself to feel him.
To feel his mouth on my sex, to feel his hands, rough and hot and careful, holding me as I squirmed on the bedcovers.
"You're so wet," he whispered, teasing my clit.
"Your fault," I managed to murmur between mewling sounds I was making.
He pinched it first, gave it a few moments, flicked the tip of his tongue over the swollen bud. Pinch. Lick. Pinch. Lick.
I was overstimulated and aching and wiggling on the bed like I was possessed.
