Page 108 of Dreamscape Therapies

When Jay finally appears in the doorway, he’s carrying candles and a small bottle of lube. He’s stripped down to his khakis, his bare chest making my mouth go dry.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi.”

He sets everything on the nightstand before lighting the candles. Warm, flickering light fills the room, softening the edges of everything around us. Then he turns on the music, a low, sensual beat I don’t recognize.

“Romantic,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You deserve romance.”

He crosses the room and stops between my legs. His hands come up to cup my face, gently tilting it until I’m looking directly into his eyes.

“You deserve everything, Jagiya.”

Then he kisses me.

Slowly at first. Deeply. Patiently. The last of my nervousness begins to melt away.

This is Jay.

My Jay.

The man who saved me when I was drowning in nightmares. The man who stayed when he could have walked away. The man who loves me.

I trust him completely.

He guides me backward onto the bed, following me down until his body covers mine. We kiss until I lose track of time, his hands moving over me with a tenderness that somehow feels even more intimate than anything else we've shared.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs against my neck. “Do you know that? How fucking beautiful you are?”

I can't answer.

Instead, I pull him closer.

His mouth moves down my chest, pausing at my nipple, and I gasp when he bites gently.

“Jay!”

“Shh.” His voice is warm against my skin. “Let me take care of you.”

And gods, does he take care of me.

Every touch is deliberate. Every kiss feels like reassurance. He takes his time, letting me adjust to each new sensation until my nervousness has disappeared completely.

By the time his fingers hook into the waistband of my boxers, I'm already trembling.

“Lift up.”

I obey without thinking.

He pulls them away and tosses them aside, leaving me completely bare beneath him.

For a moment, he simply looks at me.

There’s no hesitation in his expression. No judgment. Only desire and something deeper that makes my chest ache.

“Perfect,” he breathes. “So fucking perfect for me.”