Page 143 of Shatter

"You're sure?" He asks it again, so soft. "You can stop me anytime. Say the word."

I take his hand, the good one, and bring it to my face.

I lay it against my cheek and hold it there.

"I'm sure." I look straight into his eyes and don't blink. "I want to see you. The entire time."

His thumb moves along my cheekbone.

Then he lowers his mouth to mine.

He undresses me like I'm made of paper.

The T-shirt comes up over my ribs and over my head, and he sets it aside.

Then he looks at me.

His eyes move over me slowly in the lamplight.

Over my breasts and the goose bumps rising on my skin.

Over the bruises on my arm, four dark ovals where Laurent's fingers dug in, already going purple.

His nostrils flare.

He bends his head and kisses them.

One at a time, his lips barely touching, like he's apologizing to each one.

Then he takes my left wrist and turns it over and kisses the old scar, the long pink line from the night we met, from the heel of my hand all the way to the crook of my elbow.

My eyes fill again.

"Espen." It comes out a whisper.

He looks up at me.

"Come here." I pull at his shoulders. "I want you with me."

He sheds the sweatpants and comes back down over me, and this time he lets his weight come down a little, warm and solid against me from chest to hip.

Not pinning.

Holding.

I wrap my arms around his back and pull him closer.

He's hard against my thigh, and I'm already wet for him.

When I move my hips, he makes a low, broken sound in his throat.

"Look at me." I cup his jaw. "Don't look away."

"I won't." His voice cracks. "I won't, Annika."

He reaches down between us and guides himself, and pushes into me slowly.

So slowly.