Page 68 of Deliver Me

“I’m sure,” she said, her voice breathy and trembling. “I want you …please.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, her fingers gliding over his chest, her touch still featherlight and uncertain as she pressed her mouth against his throat, her lips finding the erratic beatof his pulse and smiling against his skin. “Mine,” she breathed, quiet and awed.

“Yours,” he agreed. “Always.”

She faltered then, her determination suddenly wavering as she realized she didn’t know what to do next.

He felt the burden of responsibility settle over him, as she bit her lip and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He wanted to make it good for her, to be sure that she wouldn’t ever regret what they were about to do. There were enough bad memories haunting their bed already and he was determined that she would never be the one with nightmares disturbing her sleep.

“Please,” she said again. “Show me what to do.”

She was so eager to please and he was lost in her—in her eyes and in the sweetness of her smell and in the slight wobble of vulnerability in her voice. He wanted to drink it all down, get drunk on her and never recover.

He scooped her up, his arms snaking around her, one around her back and the other hooking under her knees to lift her up in his grasp. He carried her to her bed like a bride across the threshold, half naked in wet swimsuit bottoms. Someday he’d carry her into the home they made together. Someday he’d give her his last name and then carry her in his arms in a glittering white dress and lace veil. That day would be perfect, but right now, with her skin bare for him and her fingers tangled in his damp hair she was a vision that he knew he’d never forget. He laid her on the bed, her body settling against the innocent blue and yellow roses of her bedspread.

She was watching him, those sharp hazel eyes dark and wide with desire and she let her knees fall open, an invitation that he desperately wanted to take, but he wanted her to be ready, wanted to pull as much pleasure from her slender body as she could stand and leave her sated and drained.

“Not yet,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her knee and nuzzling his face into her thigh.

“You keep saying that,” she protested.

“Almost,” he soothed. “I promise. I just need you to be ready for me.”

“I am ready,” she whined, shifting her hips toward him insistently.

“Mia,” he said, using the deep and firm tone that he knew she liked and waiting for her to be still before he spoke again. She needed to understand that he wanted to take things slowly and savor each inch of her skin.

“Your body isn’t ready,” he said when her hips had stopped wiggling, and he dropped a kiss to the mound where heat and wetness were already waiting for him. “But I’ll fix that, and I’ll make sure you like it.”

He skimmed his fingers down and over her thighs before he tugged her bottoms off, and her breath hitched in anticipation. He used his lips and his tongue to wring the first orgasm out of her, worshiping her with his mouth. All thought of convincing her to go slowly left his mind at the taste of her and he barely gave her time to come down before plunging his fingers into her, working her back into a frenzy as he stretched her, preparing her to take the rest of him until she was desperate and he clinging to his own self-control.

“Condoms?”

It was the last coherent thought he was capable of making as he settled himself between her thighs, the slick wet heat of her body so tantalizingly close, but he knew it mattered. She wasn’t on birth control yet and he was not going to ruin her, not going to risk it no matter how much he wanted to feel his bare skin slide against her cunt’s velvet grip.

Besides, it would probably help him last longer, anyway, and he didn’t want to disappoint her by ending things too soon. Hewas already teetering on the edge, his dick straining against the skin of her thigh.

A condom would help.

She tapped the drawer in the nightstand, and he leaned over to open it, propping himself up one elbow to peer down inside. The soft rumble of his laughter made her frown up at him and he kissed her forehead, unable to do anything else between the endless chuckles and the wave of love he felt for her.

She’d bought boxes of so many different sizes, colors, and flavors that the whole drawer was stacked full of them. Her skin was flushed pink all the way to the tops of her breasts, her face hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t know what kind to get.”

“You are perfect,” he told her, raining kisses across her face and then lingering over her mouth, nibbling softly on her swollen bottom lip. “You try so hard to always get everything right.”

“I wanted you,” she countered hotly. “I wasn’t going to risk not being able to do this because I bought the wrong one, so I bought one of each.”

“That poor cashier,” he said, his forehead resting on hers as he kissed her nose.

“Self-checkout,” she said primly.

“Right,” he said, shaking his head and kissing her again, hard and possessive, before digging back into the drawer to find something usable. He discarded the strawberry flavored and a box that looked as though its contents were meant to glow in the dark before finding the right thing. He tore it open, the gold packaging fluttering down to land on the floor as he rolled the condom on. She watched him carefully, studying his motions, and he suspected that she’d be asking to try it herself the next time.

He sucked in a deep breath when she reached her hand between them to slide her fingertips carefully over his length, experimentally testing the feel of the latex.

“It doesn’t hurt? Or bother you?”

“No,” he said, his hips bucking against her hand, seeking her touch.

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