The candlelight reflects against the dark pools of his eyes as he slowly lets them wander across my body. His rough hands grasp around my waist and tug me close, encouraging me onto his lap.
His palms make their way around to the base of my spine slowly, then slide their way up. He grabs a fistful of my hair, and his mouth descends upon my neck. A flutter begins in my belly and erupts in my chest, sending shock waves all the way out to my fingers and the tips of my toes.
“That feels nice,” I rasp, never wanting him to stop.
His fingers tighten in my hair, and his mouth kisses a path to mine. “You are a goddess,” he praises, pulling back to look into my eyes. “Are you ready to be worshipped?”
“Well, what exactly does that entail?”
A slow grin tugs one side of his mouth higher than the other. “It’s better if I just show you.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Okay,” I say softly, letting him know I trust him.
He carefully shifts me to the side, kissing me the entire time he does. He then backs away, and takes his time removing his clothes.
I wouldn’t say I’m exactly calm about all of this, but I know what I want. His particular brand of chaos excites me.
When he’s down to his boxers, everything becomes very real. My eyes drift around the space, nervous to look directly at him as he loses them too. I remember the day I stood outside this very room, curious to know more about him. I never dreamed I would be in his bed one day.
“Look at me, Serenity,” he orders.
My eyes slide to his dark ones, and everything but him fades into the distance.
“Is this still what you want? It’s okay if you want to slow it down.”
“Life happens fast sometimes.”
He smiles at this.
I begin to crawl back on the mattress, and he follows. He lifts one of my feet from the bed, gently bringing it to his mouth. He kisses it lightly. There’s something about that act that makes me swoon.
He unabashedly lets his eyes drift between my thighs. “I don’t know how I’ve managed to wait this long,” he groans against my calf as his hand slides up my leg.
I inhale sharply when his fingertips touch me intimately. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve allowed myself to be in a very long time.Ten years, to be exact. But the way he holds my gaze turns my anxiety into excitement, and behind it lingers intense pleasure.
There’s something about him that makes me want to lay myself out on the bed like a damn buffet. I want to offer him everything.
I let my knees fall apart, and his brow pulls together in the scowl I’ve fallen in love with. It’s a good thing I’ve learned it has many other meanings besides anger.
He slowly moves up my body as his fingers continue to lightly tease. Rage stares down at me. I want to look away, but something tells me this will be so much better if I don’t. His palm begins to rock between my legs, but his face remains still as if he’s savoring every detail.
My hands brace around his biceps when his teasing becomes too much for me. I tense up, begging my body not to let go. Not yet. I want this moment to last forever because nothing has ever felt so fucking good.
His hand suddenly stops moving, his fingers still inside me. I ease my grip on his arms, feeling my pelvic muscles contract around him. I take a few shaky breaths, holding perfectly still.
He’s quiet, both inside and outside of the bedroom, but he’s being himself. He’s the most calm and present man I’ve ever met.
And he’s all mine.
My hips tip up on their own accord, and his eye twitches. Slowly, I begin to grind myself against his hand. When he doesn’t move with me, I begin to pout. “Rage, please,” I beg, needing him to be in control.
He leans close and whispers over my lips, “Be still.”
I obey immediately, and he smiles. He begins with slow, light touches, working me up more deliberately this time. He pushes his nose against mine. Then he takes his free hand and wraps it around my wrist, holding it against the pillow above my head.