Page 100 of Gunnar

He opens my shirt, one button at a time, watching my face as he does it, like he’s giving me the chance to stop him.

I don’t.

His hands slide up under the fabric, rough against my skin, and I grab onto him, pulling him closer as the sensation hits—new, overwhelming, but I don’t want it to stop.

“You like that?”

I nod against him, not trusting my voice.

His hand moves lower, between us, and I go still for a second as he works at the button of my jeans.

Then his hand slips inside.

The first touch makes me suck in a breath. I grip his shoulders harder, trying to steady myself as the sensation spreads.

When his fingertip circles my entrance, I hold my breath. He slides in slowly, slowly, and I clench tight around him.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he growls.

“Yeah,” I manage to gasp in his ear. I press my face into his shoulder as everything starts to build, faster now, sharper, something I’ve never felt before.

He kisses me again, deeper, holding me there as it peaks⁠—

and then it breaks through me all at once.

“Gunnar, I think I’m going to⁠—”

“That’s right, come for me, baby,” he whispers as he works those thick fingers of his in and out.

And I release.

Shuddering, trembling, clinging to him.

He draws it out of me longer and longer, until I’m finally done.

For a second, I don’t move.

Then I lift my head, looking at him.

I want more.

I reach for him, for the heat and the pressure still there between us.

He catches my wrist.

“Not here,” he says.

I frown. “Why?”

He holds my gaze.

“Because when I claim you,” he says, “it’s going to be perfect.”

I swallow. “I don’t care about perfect,” I say quietly. “I just want you.”

There’s something new in his expression—something deeper, more serious.

“You’ve got me,” he says. “All of me. But I want your first time to be what you deserve. Special.”