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Jude’s eyebrows bounce up. “Okay? Really?”
“Yes.” Blowing out a harsh breath, I nod. “Okay.”
One tiny word, one giant leap of faith. But I can do this. Ican. And a whole slideshow of emotions flicker across Jude’s face—triumph, joy, relief, nerves—but he schools his features and crooks a finger at me.
“Alright. Come here, sweetheart.”
I stand, heart in my throat. The rug is soft beneath my feet. And my habits are screaming at me to lash out, to slide back into our automatic battle, but a deeper instinct overrides them all.
My steps are quiet. Jude’s chest rises and falls as I reach him, the top two buttons of his navy shirt opened to bare his throat.
His breaths are shaky, too. That makes me feel a little better, because we’re both off-kilter. Both reeling from this, but pushing forward anyway.
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” Jude runs a fingertip up my wrist, my arm, all the way to my shoulder where he draws a little circle. “Like someone took all my favorite things, all my secret desires, and built you for me in a lab.”
My voice scrapes. “Narcissistic much?”
Jude chuckles and leans down, his breath tickling my throat.
And…heat.
That’s what I feel when he kisses me there. The gentle press of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, sends a molten wave of heat surging through my veins. Jude’s barely done anything yet, onlykissed beneath my jaw, and already my nipples are two hard beads and I’m arching toward him, whimpering. Needy.
It’s so shameless. Sovulnerable.And doubt spears through me, frazzling my brain, but Jude chases that doubt away as fast as it came, kissing along my jaw before claiming my mouth.
His arms wrap around me, sealing me to his chest.
His hold is strong, sure, possessive.
After all those fears, after staying tensed up for so long, it’s the easiest thing in the world to melt into his strength. To let him tilt my head back and kiss me hard, tongue sliding into my mouth; to switch my brain off for once in my goddamn life and surrender to the present moment.
I love this man.
I want him badly.
And I’m done hiding that. Done fighting the facts.
“So,” Jude says between kisses, “fucking—gorgeous.”
Golden warmth suffuses my limbs. And this is the world’s best spa treatment, the most relaxed I’ve ever been, so when Jude finally nudges me to kneel, I float down there on a happy little cloud.
Thump.The rug tickles my knees. I don’t mind, though—I could be kneeling on hot coals right now and I’d struggle to care. Not when Jude places my hands on his hips and leaves them there, working his belt open with a creak of black leather.
Yes.Finally.
This is what I want. This is what I’ve dreamed of.
Kneeling for him. Pleasing him.
But Jude flicks his top button open then pauses. “Are you sure about this?” Worry creeps into his low voice. “Because if you change your mind, we can stop at any time—”
“Duh.” My smile is dreamy; his shirt is soft beneath my fingertips. I scratch at his waist, marveling at the hard muscles hidden below the fabric. “I know that. Keep going.”
There’s a steadying huff, then the scratch of his zipper is loud in the quiet room. My heartbeat booms in my ears, and this close I can smell his laundry powder. Can feel his body heat against my front.
Jude draws out his cock and strokes it once. My eyes practically cross as I try to get a good look at it, because it’s long and thick and weirdly handsome, and I guess I wasn’t the only one built in a lab. Jude Jenkins is perfect all over, and he smells freaking amazing. Like soap and the faint scent of musk.
“Look at you.” His mouth curves up, and he strokes himself again. “Look at you squirming down there, Violet. You’re needy, aren’t you, sweet girl? You want a taste.”
