Page 33 of Grim’s Angel

McKenna sighs and presses closer.

Five minutes awake beside her, and my vows already feel like the promises of a man who did not know what he would be asked to resist.

Her lashes lift.

“You’re staring at me.”

“It’s in my job description. I conduct security assessments.”

“Of my face?”

“High-risk area.”

A sleepy smile curves her mouth. “Did I pass?”

“Still assessing.”

I kiss her before she can answer. Morning softness becomes heat as soon as her fingers slide into my hair. She turns beneath me, and I brace my weight on my uninjured arm.

“Your shoulder,” she murmurs against my mouth.

“Has survived worse.”

“Your medical defense remains unconvincing.”

“Distract me from the pain.”

Her cheeks turn pink, but she holds my gaze. “How?”

The trust in that question is enough to make every possessive instinct inside me bare its teeth.

I stroke my thumb over her lower lip. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

The word lands harder than the bullet.

“Be specific, Angel.”

Nerves flicker across her face. She takes a breath, fighting every lesson that taught her wanting was shameful.

“I want what comes next,” she says. “I want my first time to be with you.”

My body reacts with violent certainty. I force myself to remain still.

“Look at me.”

Her hazel eyes meet mine.

“I do not want your virginity,” I tell her. “I want your trust. I want the way you laugh when you’re trying not to. I want every smart answer and every stubborn inch of you. Being your first only matters because I intend to make sure no memory of me ever feels like something taken.”

Her eyes shine. “Nobody has ever wanted me like this.”

“I want what you choose to give me. Keep everything else until giving it feels like freedom.”

I kiss the corner of her mouth.

“You can change your mind before, during, or after you say yes. Wanting me does not sign away that right.”