* * *

Dean

Abbi’s practically vibrating with nerves as I peel her panties from her hips and let them drop to the floor. I press my mouth to her neck and palm her breast in my hand. “I’ve got you,” I murmur in her ear. “I promise you don’t have to do a damn thing.”

“I want to,” she says, stepping back. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t want to be afraid. I want this. I like it when you touch me. I like . . .” She swallows. “This should be no different, right?” When she takes another step back, I realize what she’s doing. She’s giving me a view. Letting me look.

And as much as I’ve been dying to see these curves of hers uncovered, as much as I’ve ached to get her bare beneath me, I recognize this moment for what it is. My chest feels too damn tight because I know this is huge for her. She’s trusting me with her body when others have used it to hurt her.

She takes a third step back, lifting her chin as she does, and a hungry moan slips from my lips as I drag my gaze over her naked curves.

I can’t breathe. I ache to close the distance. To return my hands to her full breasts, to drop to my knees and press my mouth to the soft curve of her stomach. I want to strip out of my jeans and feel her skin against mine. But I don’t rush it. I don’t let myself. Because she’s beautiful. Because I need to take in every inch of her. And because, I realize, she needs this in a way I wouldn’t have understood before we started this . . . whatever this is. She needs to let me look and know that seeing her only makes me want her more.

“Say something,” she whispers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“I want to be. For you.”

“You are.” My voice sounds so husky, as if my need wrapped itself around my throat and squeezed. “Lie on the bed.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, then slowly lowers herself back, her head on the pillow. “Like this?” Her chest rises and falls with her uneven breaths, and I can tell by the flush of her skin that she’s as turned on as I am right now. I can’t wait to feel the evidence of that between her legs.

“Hold on to the headboard,” I say, and she obeys, gripping the white slats of her bed so tightly her knuckles turn white. I slide my gaze down her body again, slower this time, and even slower on the way back up, but when I meet her eyes, there’s something there that looks too much like fear. I sit on the edge of the bed and stroke her cheek. “Hey, what is it?”

She forces a smile. “I’m nervous. My insides are shaking.”

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to—”

“No.” She shakes her head, still clutching the rails. “I like the way you’re looking at me. I like . . . everything. It just doesn’t feel real, and I’m afraid I’m gonna screw it up. Or worse, wake up and find out none of it was real.”

Killing me. She’s killing me. I dip my head and sweep my lips across hers. It’s killing me that I’m not holding her right now, and I have to fight every instinct not to climb into this bed and pull her into my arms. But I’ll go slow for her. I’ll take all fucking day if that’s what she needs. “Tell me what you’re afraid of. Tell me how I can make you feel safe.”

There’s nothing but raw trust in her eyes as she says, “I’m afraid it’ll change after tonight. Afraid that now that you’ve really seen me . . . I know I’m not like your girlfriends or—”

“Hey.” This girl is going to fucking destroy me. “I do see you. I see all of you, and I love what I see.” I open my mouth, thinking it might be time to explain my hunch about her past experiences with guys “rushing” once she’s naked, but then snap it shut again. There’ll be time for that later. Time to explain that everyone’s got insecurities and they probably sensed her freezing up and thought it was about them. Or maybe they were all assholes. I doubt it, but either way, it’s their loss.

We don’t need to go over any of that tonight, though. This—right now—is about us. Fuck the rest of them. “You know you turn me on.”

For that, I get a crooked grin. “Yeah.”

“And you know how much it’s killing me to not be buried inside you right now, touching every inch of you.”

She swallows. “Is it? Really?”

Standing, I rid myself of my shoes and socks, then shuck my jeans and boxers in one smooth motion and kick them to the other side of the room. When I turn back to her, some of the worry has left her expression, replaced with hot lust as she looks me over. I love the way she looks at me, love that she likes what she sees. I just wish she would believe it goes both ways.

Tags: Lexi Ryan Orchid Valley Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net