Page 136 of When Love Takes Root

“I’m nervous.”

“I know.”

“And my jeans are disrespectful.”

“They’re gone now.”

“Good.”

His smile flashed, wicked for half a second, then disappeared beneath focus as his mouth trailed from my knee to the inside of my thigh. Kiss after kiss. Slower each time. His hands moved over me with patient possession, not rushed, not greedy, just sure enough to make me feel surrounded. My thighs. My stomach. My waist. Back to my breasts, where his palms covered me again until my breath forgot every bit of training it had ever received.

I arched into his hands before I could stop myself.

Josiah lifted his head, his mouth near my hip, his eyes dark enough to make my whole body go still.

His thumb brushed the inside of my thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

“Please.”

He kissed lower, and my head fell back against the pillow.

“Josiah,” I whispered.

His voice vibrated against me. “I’m right here.”

My fingers slipped into his braids and held on. I apologized on a broken breath because I didn’t know what they were doing anymore.

Josiah laughed softly, and the vibration nearly took me out.

“Don’t apologize. I like knowing where I’ve got you.”

My eyes squeezed shut.

Josiah’s voice rasped against my skin. “No, baby. Don’t hide from me.”

I looked down at him, and the sight of that man between my thighs, watching me like my face mattered as much as every sound I made, loosened something deep in my chest.

“There you go. Stay right there with me,” he coaxed. A sound left me before I could stop it. “That’s it. Let me hear you,” he growled. His fingers pressed into my hips. “Good. Just like that,” he praised.

Pleasure built low and deep, spreading until I couldn’t tell if I was trying to get closer or get away from how much I felt. My hands found his hair again, and his groan came rough and pleased.

“Josiah, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Let it come, Celly,” he uttered against my thigh.

The name, the pressure, the patience, all of it broke something open.

He returned to me with the same hungry focus, and I stopped fighting the way my body wanted to fall apart. My back arched. My fingers tightened in his braids. My breath caught somewhere between his name and a sound I couldn’t own.

“Let it go for me, baby,” he rasped.

Pleasure rolled through me hard enough to steal the air from my lungs. My body bent toward him while he held my hips and stayed with me through every wave. He didn’t rush away like he was finished because I was. He kissed my thigh, my hip, my stomach, then worked his way back up my body slowly, leaving heat everywhere his mouth touched.

By the time he reached my lips, I was trembling.

He kissed me softly, and I tasted myself on him.

“You with me?” he asked.