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I can’t even form words. I just nod and grab the comforter in both hands, praying I don’t black out from sheer anticipation.

Nathan presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, and my eyes cross. His hands are so big and warm, holding me open, and his tongue⁠—

Holy. Freaking. Shit.

He runs it up my center with the slowest, hottest swipe, and I legit forget my own name. My hips jerk. My brain just shuts down.

I think I make a noise—a weird, breathy little yelp—but Nathan doesn’t laugh. Not even a little. All his focus is on me, like I’m the last cinnamon roll and he skipped lunch. His tongue circles my clit, then he sucks on it gently, and my vision goes white at the edges.

Oh my God. Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God.

I can’t stop trembling. I dig my nails into his shoulders as Nathan goes down on me like it’s a competition, tongue and fingers working in perfect sync, never once looking away from my face. It’s overwhelming. I’ve never been the center of someone’s universe, not like this. I almost cry from how good it feels. My thighs are shaking, and my heart is basically punching a hole through my chest. Nathan drags his tongue up my center again, slow and direct, and I actually forget how to breathe. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

He groans against me, like he’s the one losing control. The vibration makes me arch off the bed, clutching at his hair for something, anything, to anchor me. I realize I’m whining his name, desperate and needy, but I don’t care even a little bit. He licks me again, then flicks his tongue over my clit, causing my body to nearly launch off the mattress.

“Nathan!” I gasp.

He looks up, mouth shiny, eyes completely wild. “That’s it, Roni. Give it to me. Let me hear you.” He slides one thick finger inside me, curling it against my inner wall, and my world just straight up evaporates.

Holy mother of cinnamon rolls.

I can’t even breathe. Every molecule in my body goes tight while every nerve ending lights up like the Fourth of July. Nathan keeps his eyes locked on mine, mouth wicked, finger moving slowly and deeply, and I swear to God, I’m going to die from pleasure overload. Right here. On his freakishly expensive sheets.

I can’t even form words. All I manage is this high-pitched, embarrassing whimper. That’s it. Like my entire brain-to-mouth pipeline is shut down.

Nathan’s grin goes full devilish. He slides in a second finger, just as slow, and then his tongue is back where I need it most, and my hips buck up all on their own. I think I scream his name as I come.

He gives me a minute to catch my breath, then kisses his way back up, lining himself over me. “I love you,” he says, and there’s nothing casual or flippant about it. He’s not asking. He’s not even hoping. He’s just stating a fact.

“I’ve always loved you,” I whisper, because there’s nothing else in the world I could possibly say.

Nathan groans my name and pushes in all the way, so deep that, for a split second, I forget how to breathe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so full or so wanted in my entire life.

I clutch his shoulders and dig my nails in, leaving marks. Every part of me shakes as my brain goes to blue-screen. All I can do is gasp and hold on while he moves inside me, slow at first like he’s memorizing every single sensation.

“Oh my God,” I whimper into his neck.