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The moment stretched.

It emboldened her.

She reached out and touched him, her fingertips combing through his hair. “Ronan.”

He straightened, staying on his knees, his hands moving to her hips. He tugged her closer and placed a kiss on her belly, his breath ghosting over her skin.

She expected him to go lower, she wanted him to go lower; instead, he got to his feet, unfolding to his full height — broad-shouldered, steady, every movement controlled and unhurried.

“Sit,” he said softly, the word carrying more weight than a command.

She obeyed without thought. But it wasn’t like before, when she’d followed orders from men who meant her harm.

This …

This was different.

She wanted to obey him. To please him.

And beneath that … a quiet willingness to follow his lead.

“Scoot back.”

She scooted.

He stepped out of his boxers, shedding the last barrier between them. She had never considered a penis attractive. It had always been a tool — a weapon — wielded against her. When she had taken back control of her own sexuality, she used a man and his body for her own needs, her own pleasure.

Still, she had always viewed it as a means to an end.

Ronan’s penis, though…

Hmm. Glorious. Her mouth watered.

Willingly going down on a man wasn’t something she did. Ever. But she might make the exception for him.

Her eyes wandered, taking the rest of him in — every rugged ridge and plane. There was nothing exaggerated about him, just quiet, undeniable strength. It was in the way he held himself. The sense that he knew exactly what he was capable of — and didn’t need to prove it.

“Talk about take-my-breath-away … you’re not too bad yourself, Marine.” She aimed for flippant. Instead, the words came out husky. Breathless.

Ronan’s grin was slow, knowing. “Why, thank you, Deputy.”

He lifted her foot and kissed the inside of her ankle. Moved to her knee. He set her foot down. Picked up the other one. Kissed her ankle, her knee.

She shivered as goose bumps skittered over her skin.

He glanced at her, eyes crinkling. “Ticklish?”

She gave a small laugh. “Dunno. Nobody’s ever kissed my knee.”

“Hmm. Let’s test that theory.”

He kissed her again and again, moving higher up her inner thigh.

She giggled, her leg jerking, because fuck, it was ticklish.

“Definitely ticklish,” he gloated, thankfully letting go.

Pulling her legs straight, he crawled onto the bed and over her, caging her in, leaning his weight on his hands. He looked down at her and whispered, “You’re a miracle, Felicity Graham. And it’s an honor to be your friend, an even greater privilege to love you.”