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With a tender and full heart, I lean forward and kiss him. It starts slowly, a brush of lips against lips, and then I open my mouth in invitation. He releases a low moan in his throat as his tongue slides against mine. I pour all my feelings that are too big for words into him, exposing my battered, wounded soul that’s only starting to heal. As if it hurts to have any space between us, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me hard against his chest. Deepening the kiss, he passionately explores the recesses of my mouth, causing my lips to tingle under his brutal intensity.
With gasping pants, we pull apart, and Nolan falls back against the pillows, dragging me with him. He closes his eyes as he attempts to suck oxygen into his lungs. “I’m sorry. I just need a moment.”
I drop featherlight kisses along his shoulder and throat, murmuring against his cool skin. “Take your time. I can be patient.”
He laughs, a rusty sound between stolen breaths. “I know. It used to drive me crazy how composed you could be after the bite, while I was going mad from wanting you.”
“The feeling was more mutual than I let on,” I admit, filling my fingers with magic. Imagining the gentle warmth of a cozy fire spreading from my touch, I drag them down his upper arm.
“Oh, that feels good,” he murmurs, his body relaxing into the pillows.
“I love you,” I whisper like it’s one of life’s greatest truths. “I want you to be my first. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“I love you too,” he replies just as reverently, sliding his hands down my sides and up my back. “It’s probably best if I stay lying down.” He swallows heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You’ll need to be on top of me.”
Feeling equal parts empowered and vulnerable, I nod, my nose brushing against the crux of his neck and shoulder. “I can do that.”
“Good,” he murmurs, his fingers slowly following the bumps of my spine. There’s a smile in his voice when he reaches my ass and squeezes. “Now, do you want me to use my hands or mouth first? Both is also an option.”
Sitting up enough to see his face, I purr, “What do you want to do?”
His smile shifts to a grin with a hint of fang. “I’ve always had a bit of an oral fixation.”
Nervousness and excitement buzz in equal measures in my belly. “So how do we do this?”
Heat burns within his gaze as it slides down my mostly naked body. Tucking his fingers in the waistband of my panties, he murmurs, “Take these off, and then I want you to straddle my head.” Before I can move, he uses his free hand to grip my chin and looks directly into my eyes. “I love you, and I want to make this good for you, which means you have to promise me something.”
Shocked by his sudden seriousness, I nod my head. “Anything.”
“If you change your mind at any point, tell me, and we’ll stop. If something doesn’t feel good, tell me, and we’ll stop. If—”
A smile skirts across my lips, and I give him a quick kiss. “I get it. Only do what I’m comfortable with.” I playfully poke him in the chest. “That goes both ways.”
“Good.” His hand falls from my chin to cup one of my breasts. Leaning forward, he whispers, “Ready to make one of my fantasies come true?”
Shivers run down my spine as the reality of what I’m about to do sets in. I will be an active participant in our pleasure, and everything that will happen will only be because I choose to, starting with my own nakedness. Climbing off him, I stand beside the bed, wishing I’d worn something prettier than my normal cotton panties. In the frenzy of getting ready for my birthday, I didn’t consider that I might be in this position by the end of it. In the books, the female protagonist is always in something silky or lacy that makes her men drool just by looking at her.
However, my fears appear to be unfounded, judging by the way Nolan’s eyes drink me in. “You are so sexy,” he whispers, cupping his hard cock through his sweats. “I could look at you forever.”
His words make me feel powerful, and I slowly push my last piece of clothing off my hips and down my legs. “You better do more than just look.”
He licks his lips, and a salacious smile full of dark promise takes over his features. “I plan to.”
Determined not to be a shrinking violet, I gather my courage and climb back onto the bed. Kneeling beside him, I run my hand down his bare torso. “Before we get started, it doesn’t seem fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.”
“That can be fixed,” he replies, immediately reaching for his waistband.
He lifts his hips as he shoves his sweats and boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them off with his feet. Despite everything the illness has stolen from him, he’s still strikingly handsome, and I’m left with the overwhelming urge to know every inch of him.
“May I touch you?” I ask with quiet reverence.
His lips twitch, as if he’s ready to make a joke, but then the question seems to sink in. It’s in the haunted shadows of his eyes—the wound of too many taking what they wanted from him, assuming it was their right—and he seems momentarily stunned.
Carefully, he reaches for my hand and places it on his chest. “Yes, my love.”
Watching my expression, he guides me down his body, his breath catching when my fingers wrap around his cock. He silently teaches me how he likes to be touched, thrusting gently into our joined hands. Witnessing him slowly become undone is a heady thing, and I marvel as pleasure transforms his features. With furrowed brows, his eyelids droop until only slivers of icy blue are visible, and a soft moan falls from his parted lips.
“Kiss me,” he pleads, tipping his face toward mine.
