I kiss her.
Deep. Slow. Mine in every way I have no right to think yet.
Her nerves loosen under my mouth. Her hands come to my skin, and the second she touches me, something possessive tears through my chest.
No one else gets this.
No one else gets her like this.
I move over her, keeping my bad shoulder clear, and slide my hand between her thighs. She is wet from my mouth, sensitive enough to jerk when I touch her.
“Easy,” I murmur. “Need you ready for me.”
“I am.”
“More ready.” I kiss her jaw. “I’m not hurting what’s mine.”
Her breath breaks.
I work her open with my fingers, patient even when my control starts bleeding out. One first, then two when her body lets me. She clings to me, cheeks flushed, eyes hazy, hips lifting like she can’t help herself.
“That’s it,” I rasp. “Let me take care of you.”
“Ace.”
My name sounds like surrender.
When she’s soft around my fingers, I pull away and strip off what’s left of my clothes. Her gaze drops, and her eyes widen.
“You’re so big,” she whispers.
A rough breath leaves me. “We go slow.”
I settle between her thighs and kiss her until she melts again.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes find mine.
“Tell me.”
“I want you.”
I guide myself to her and press in slow.
Just enough.
She tightens around me, breath catching, nails digging into my side.
I stop.
“Too much?”
She shakes her head. “Slow.”
“Slow,” I promise.
I give her that.