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Taking my time, I skim my nails across his shoulders, whimpering when his muscles go rigid across his chest. Knowing I cause such an effect on him pumps me with confidence. Palm flat, I guide my hand over his abdomen, my fingers treasuring every inch of silky olive flesh.
My hands tremble with nervous anticipation.
He stops my movement, placing his hand over mine as it hovers above the waistband of his slacks. Holding my jaw in a gentle grip, he tips my head back to look at him, and what I see knocks the air from my lungs. Desire burns deep, but he spares me a moment to show a soft smile, giving me another chance to back out.
He’s in this.
He’s not going anywhere, but he wants confirmation.
I nod, not expecting the gentle stroke of his thumb across my jaw. His other thumb dances the same motion on the back of my wrist.
His voice is gruff when he says, “Baby, you’re safe with me.”
My body goes lax, leaning into him for the support I so desperately need, and my blood boils, rushing through my veins, ready to explode.
And I do.
I lose it.
Unable to wait another second, I break our gaze, only to unbuckle his belt. His reassurance has calmed my trembling hands, and I manage to pull the leather through the loops in seconds, the sound making my core flood.
The belt drops to the ground with a thud, but I hardly hear it as my heart whooshes in my ears. Releasing the buttons on his trousers, I push them around his ankles, hyperaware of every second I can feel his breath in my hair. He toes the material until they’re off, and then all that’s left between us is the thin material of his boxers.
My eyes widen at the bulge straining against the cotton, and I shudder, feeling every hard inch of him against my stomach.
A skilled hand wraps around my waist until my body is flush against his.
Suppressing a moan as I wet my dry lips with my tongue, I cling to his shoulder with one hand while lowering the other into the waistband of his boxers, freeing him, and discarding the material with the rest of our clothes.
Excitement builds, making my head spin.
Lowering my starved eyes, I wrap my fingers around the sleek length, my thighs clenching in response. I devour him, taking in everything.
This man isn’t just big in stature, and I’m suddenly glad he showed me the softness in his eyes just moments ago because if he were to take me with any hint of anger, I’m sure he’d rip me in two.
His head falls back as I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, appreciating the feel of him as I give one tug and soothe my thumb over the tip.
“Fuck, Claire,” he rasps.
He guides me backward until my legs are against the bed. My thighs meet the mattress, and I fall back.
Totally at his mercy, I glance up at him, finding no evidence of the intimidating man I’m used to.
Another slow smile.
More reassurance.
You’re safe with me.
It works. I’ve never felt so untouchable in my life.
His muscles, the set of his jaw, maybe even a part of his heart may be hard, but when he looks at me with those molten eyes, they’re burning but yielding, forgiving, and easy.
He doesn’t look at me with indifference.
He looks at me, and I don’t see the reflection of somebody else.
Carefully pushing my shoulder, he guides me until I’m flat against my back. He takes that moment to engulf me. It’s almost like he’s taking every inch as part of an inventory. He scans over my features, restraint causing a line between his brows.
