Page 69 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
“You don’t have to wait,” she said, voice low, teasing. But she meant it. “Not if I want it too.”
One of his hands slid down, slowly, reverently, and settled on the curve of her hip.
His lips brushed her ear.
“I’ll never take what isn’t given,” he said, voice low and broken.
“Then take this,” she whispered.
She reached between them and guided his hand lower, over her stomach, over her heat, until his palm was cupped against her.
He hissed in a breath like it hurt.
Her body was wet. Open. Ready.
And she could see it in his face when he realized just how much she wanted him.
“Show me,” she said, voice breathy. “I want to know what you feel like.”
He didn’t hesitate after that.
His hand moved slowly, one thick finger sliding through her heat. She gasped again, louder this time, and he kissed her again just to swallow the sound.
Another finger joined the first. Still slow. Still patient.
She rocked against his palm, not even pretending to be subtle. Her body was a drum, and every movement of his hand was a beat that brought her closer to unraveling.
When he curled his fingers just right, she moaned into his mouth and broke the kiss with a sharp breath.
He watched her face the whole time. Never looked away.
Like every twitch, every tremble, was a revelation.
Her own hands slid down his sides now, touching, learning, exploring. She wanted to know the shape of him. The temperature. The strength. She pressed a kiss to his jaw, then down to his neck, and heard him groan when she bit gently at the base.
His fingers didn’t stop.
But they slowed, letting her ride the edge.
“Lie down,” she said, voice thick.
He obeyed.
She climbed into his lap, straddling him. She could feel the full weight of him beneath her, thick and hard, pressing againstthe place she needed him most. But she didn’t move yet. She just sat there, hips barely shifting, feeling the tremble in his body.
He wasn’t touching her anymore.
But he was watching. Wrecked. Awe-struck.
And when she leaned forward and pressed her palm to his chest again, he let out a sound that broke her open from the inside.
“Not yet,” she whispered.
Because she wanted the first time to be everything.
But this?
This was worship.
