Page 310 of A Vicious Love

I should not have enjoyed that as much as I did. Enough that sainthood turned around in whatever shallow grave I had left it in and gave up.

“It can.”

Her expression did not change. If anything, she looked even more convinced. “It cannot.”

“It can, baby.”

“You’re saying that because it’s yours.”

“That is one reason.”

“Jamison.”

The disappointment reached her face.

She looked genuinely upset, as if she had finally let herself want this and then discovered my body was going to deny her out of sheer absurd size difference. Of all the things to break my heart tonight.

My hand moved to her cheek. “You won’t miss out.”

She glanced down again, then back at me with the stern disbelief of a woman presented with terrible math. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“You’re too big for me.”

“I’m bigger than you, yes.”

“That is not comforting.”

She had always been petite. I had always known that in public ways. The way she wore heels high enough to make our hands meet more easily. Her shoulder tucked beneath my arm when I let her close. She had to tip her head back to glare at me, which made all her attempts at outrage dangerously sweet.

I had thought about height difference in relation to doors, cars, ballrooms, how far I had to bend to kiss her.

Now she was thinking about it in bed.

I lowered myself over her.

“Listen to me. Daddy’s going to be gentle. I’ll get you ready. I’ll take my time. I won’t hurt you to prove a point.”

Her breathing changed.

“That means we go slow,” I continued, thumb moving under her jaw. “It means I use my mouth. My fingers if you want them. It means you tell me green, yellow, or red. It means I stop whenever you say stop, even if I’m dying.”

Her lips parted. “You won’t be dying.”

“Feels unlikely from here.”

That earned me a small, nervous laugh, and I kissed the corner of her mouth as a reward.

“You’re very pleased with yourself,” she whispered.

“I’m being humble.”

“No, you are not.”

“Fine. I am pleased with several things. Your reaction is one of them.”

Her blush deepened, but the fear had softened around the edges. Good. I could work with nerves. I kissed her again, slower, and eased her back onto the pillows.