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Because I know where that uncertainty comes from.

Years of people making her feel like she wasn't enough.

Years of critics and online celebrity bullshit.

Years of cruel comments and impossible standards.

Not in this house.

Not with me.

So I slap my hands on my chest.

“Get that sweet ass over here, Rusty,” I tell her, and her eyes widen.

I see the hitch in her breath.

The uncertainty.

But I don't want her to feel any of that.

Not here.

Not with us.

Not ever.

“B-but⁠—”

“That's right. I want that butt of yours right here so I can reach that pretty pussy. You want that, don't you? Want me to fuck you with my tongue, Amanda?”

She swallows and nods her head.

Then my brave woman scrambles up the bed and gets into position.

“What if I crush you?” she asks and covers her face.

I can see her blush spreading over her pretty, curvy body, and I couldn’t love this woman more if I tried.

Still, I take her wrists in my hands and pull gently until she's looking right at me.

“You won't. But if you did, it'd be worth it.”

She rolls her eyes and relaxes—just like I want her to.

I kiss her knuckles.

Slowly.

Tenderly.

Because I need her to hear me.

Need her to believe me.

“Rusty, there has never been a moment in my life when you were too much woman for me.”

Her eyes shimmer.