Page 174 of Nyx

She nods.

"Touch me," I tell her. "Run your hand down the front of me."

She looks down after backing away an inch or so.

"Touch me, and you can tell how much I want this."

She shakes her head.

"I don't have to touch you to see that," she says, her throat working on yet another swallow as she looks up into my eyes.

"I want this with you, too," I assure her. "But only if it's something you want."

"I don't know how I'll feel about it in the morning," she whispers.

"If you haven't been intimate with anyone in twelve years, I'd say a little sore," I say with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Her eyes drop back to below my belt. "More than a little from the looks of it."

"We don't have to have sex, Juliet."

"I want to," she says quickly. "So badly. I want it more than I've ever wanted anything else in my life."

My cock kicks in my jeans, urging me to take the next step, to make the next move so we can get this show on the road, but thankfully, that part of me has never controlled my actions.

I remain silent, waiting for her next move, because I was serious when I told her there would be no pressure from my side.

"Can I have it?"

I resist the urge to moan.

"It's yours," I say, knowing deep down that I mean it more than just in this moment.

I know this woman is one of a kind. I know there isn't another who will walk the earth who pulls such dedication and compassion from me.

"We'll go slow," she says.

"As slow as you want," I whisper.

I stay steady when she leans forward, her lips pressing to mine.

When I feel the brush of her hand down the front of my jeans, I groan with need. She uses the opportunity to sweep her tongue across mine, and only for a fraction of a second, I doubt my ability to stop if she did anything less than demand it.

I test the waters by placing my hand on her hip, swiping my tongue against hers when she doesn't flinch. My other hand lifts, my palm resting softly on her neck, fingers curling slightly but not so tight that she couldn't take a simple step back to break the connection.

She pulls her face back, my body taking a half second too long to realize that she's pumping the brakes, but I don't have time to feel like an idiot for kissing the air before she speaks.

"Sorry," she says, the word more than a little breathless.

"It's okay. I told you we could stop-"

"We should probably shut the door," she says, looking out of the bathroom toward my bedroom area.

"Yeah," I say as I swallow. "That's probably a good idea."

When she takes another step back, I walk around her, leaving the bathroom and closing the bedroom door. When I turn around, she's standing in the middle of the room.

"You're sure?" I ask as I turn the lock on the door.