Page 30 of Grim’s Angel

His thumbs stroke the sensitive skin near the edges of my shorts.

“And here?”

“Yes.”

My voice breaks on the word.

He helps me down from the table and walks me backward toward the bedroom, his hand firm at my waist and his mouth returning to mine every few steps.

The backs of my knees meet the mattress.

Grim lowers me into the center of the bed as though he has all the time in the world. He removes my robe before reaching for the waistband of my sleep shorts.

Nerves tighten my stomach.

“I haven’t done this before.”

He becomes completely still. “Anything?”

“Anything that involved another person.”

Possession flashes across his face, fierce enough to steal my breath. He controls it before speaking.

“Your first yes belongs to you,” he says. “I’m only the lucky bastard who gets to hear it.”

“I want you to.”

“Tonight, you let me take care of you.”

Grim hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and waits. I lift my hips, and he draws the soft fabric down with my underwear, baring me inch by inch while his gaze follows his hands.

Cool air brushes my heated skin. My knees draw together on instinct.

He places his palms against the insides of my thighs without forcing them apart.

“Look at me.”

I meet his eyes.

“There’s nothing about you I’ll judge and nothing you need to hide.” His thumbs stroke my skin. “Open for me because you want my mouth on you.”

The raw certainty in his voice turns embarrassment into heat.

I let my thighs fall apart.

His eyes darken as he looks at me. The hunger in his face should make me feel exposed. Instead, I feel beautiful in a way no mirror has ever managed.

“That’s my brave girl.”

The praise sinks directly into my body.

He kisses my inner thigh, his stubble rasping softly against sensitive skin. The next kiss lands higher, followed by another close enough that I feel his breath where I am already wet.

“Grim.”

“I know, Angel.”

His thumbs part my folds, and he studies me with open hunger before lowering his mouth.