Page 223 of The Wright Man

I blinked at him. "So… you just out here finessing bras one-handed now?"

His eyes gleamed. "Gotta keep the skills sharp."

I arched a brow. "You was out here manwhoring overseas?"

He grinned and pressed a kiss between my breasts. "Shut up and reap the benefits."

I laughed, breathless. "Rude."

"You love it."

I did. And he knew it.

By the time he'd stripped me bare, his lips had painted trails of fire across every inch of exposed skin, and I was already fighting to keep still. But the light filtering in through the blinds caught me off guard—highlighting every curve, every mark, every soft, unruly part of me I usually didn't mind… until it was laid bare like this.

I shifted instinctively, arms starting to come up to cover my belly, my chest.

But he caught them. Gently but firmly.

"No," he said, voice low and tender. "You don't have to hide. Not from me. Never from me."

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

He pulled off his shirt in one clean motion, and the sight of him—solid, sexy, mine—made something inside me unravel. His body lowered over mine again, and he kissed me like the world had gone quiet. Like this moment was the only thing that mattered.

And maybe it was.

He moaned softly as our bare skin touched, his hands bracketing my face like I was something precious. His mouth moved across my cheek, then over the thin scar under my eye—the one I'd gotten when Boyd pushed me when we were little.

"I hated that little nigga," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the scar. "Thought I was gon' kill him right there."

I smiled through the sting in my eyes. "You were six."

"I been protecting you since we were five, Angel," he said, his voice rough now. "That ain't ever changing."

He kissed down my jaw, my neck, trailing his tongue over the places that made my toes curl and my thighs twitch. Then lower… along my collarbone, across my shoulders, down each arm. He kissed each one softly, whispering in between:

"These arms held me up when my world fell apart."

"They braided my hair when I couldn't get outta bed."

"They never let go of me. Even when I didn't deserve it."

I was trembling.

Then he leaned in and kissed the space over my heart.

"And this?" he said quietly. "This heart right here? It's the biggest I've ever known."

A sob caught in my throat.

He moved lower, worshipping me with mouth and hands and reverent words. At my breasts, he grinned. "I ain't gon' lie. I been thinking about these since they came in."

I laughed—actually laughed—and then gasped as his mouth closed around one nipple, wet and warm and gentle at first, then demanding. He sucked and licked, palming my breast in one hand while the other held me steady. When he switched to the other, it was like he was trying to memorize me with his tongue.

He took his time with every inch of me.

Down my belly. Across the stretch marks. Around my waist.