Page 112 of When We Were Young

He looks up and meets my gaze. “You don’t have to, but I promise you can trust me. I’m not going to hurt you—never again. I’ll only bring you pleasure. I think you’re stunning, and I want to see all of you.” He watches me.

“I do trust you, Holden. So much.”

His fingers find my entrance again, caressing the aching flesh there, but not entering me. And that’s what I really want.

Without breaking eye contact, I raise my feet to his shoulders and spread my legs wide. He now has an unobstructed view.

“Oh, fuck me,” he says in a reverent tone.

Then it’s game on. He finds all the right spots with his tongue, and he slides a finger back inside me and fucks me with it.

“Can you take another?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” Carefully, he slips a second finger inside me. “Oh, God. Holden…”

I feel as though I’m losing control of my body, and I no longer care what I sound like.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Give me more of that.”

Screw it. I’ve had it with holding back. I’ve waited a decade to be with him. I’m going to give all of myself. So, I let loose and grind against him. I grab his hair and pull him closer to me. He groans in response.

“That’s my girl,” he says. I’m surprised to find I like the hint of praise, but what I love even more is being called his.

The tension rises in my body as the pleasure he’s giving me lifts it higher and higher. Before I know it, I don’t give a damn that I’m splayed wide open for him, because I’m having the most spectacular orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. Like, by far. They should make a vibrator that can do what this man has just done.

My body shakes with pleasure, and even after the orgasm comes down, I still tremble.

He stands, and that’s when I remember his pants are still on, so I sit upright and reach for his pants button.

He places his hand over mine to stop me, and I glance at him as that damn insecurity of mine rears its head.

“I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I’m here tonight. This—you and me—is so much more, and I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready. So ready.”

He chuckles, and then his face turns serious, almost concerned. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he whispers.

“We won’t.” I peer into his eyes. “We won’t because we’re not those people anymore. And because I trust you.”

I mean every word. I trust him—he’s been there. He keeps showing up. He keeps taking care of me. He treats my son with kindness and love.

“Are you certain?” he asks.

“One hundred percent. And I have condoms in the drawer.”

“Why do you have condoms in the drawer?”

I shrug and give him a cheeky grin. “You never know what the night might bring.” I wink at him.

This time, when I try again, he lets me unbutton his jeans and lower them past his hips. He steps out of them, and even while still in his boxer briefs, I can tell he’s going to be a lot to take in.

“Oh, my God.”

He chuckles.

“Shit, did I say that out loud?” I ask.

“You did, and it’ll be okay. We’ll only go as far as we can while it feels good for you.”