Page 95 of Roulette Rodeo
I've never come undone in anyone's hands before.
Never knew my body could feel like this—electric and liquid all at once.
He pulls his fingers out slowly, and I watch through heavy lids as he brings them to his mouth, licking them clean with a groan that resonates in my bones.
"Fuck," I breathe, because what else can you say when a man tastes you like you're fine wine?
"You're ready for me," he says, voice rough with want.
I nod, probably too eagerly, trying not to literally salivate at the sight of him stroking himself. He's proportional everywhere, and the thought of taking him—of being stretched and filled and claimed— has my inner walls clenching with anticipation. This is really happening. The reality of it makes my heart thunder against my ribs.
He notices my fixation and the corner of his mouth quirks up, that rare smile that transforms his whole face. "Like what you see, little cherry?"
"Maybe," I manage to say, though my voice comes out breathier than intended. "Though I'm starting to wonder if you're compensating for something with all those weapons you carry."
He actually laughs at that, the sound rumbling through the water between us. "Trust me, I don't need to compensate for anything."
The arrogance should annoy me, but instead it sends another pulse of heat straight to my core. Three years of keeping men at arm's length, and now I'm naked and drenched with an alpha who bought me for a hundred million dollars, practically begging him to take my virginity.
Mom would either be proud or horrified. Probably both.
"Still sure about this?" His voice has gone serious again, those forest-green eyes searching mine for any hint of doubt.
I take a moment to really think about it. Not the automatic response born from arousal and proximity, but the real answer.
Am I ready for this? To give something I've protected so fiercely to a man I've known for days?
But then I think about those days. How he caught me when I fell. How he worried about my circulation. How he let me “stea”his dog and play in the rain and choose my own nail polish color even though he can't tell them apart.
How he's asking, again and again, making sure this is what I want.
"I'm sure," I tell him, and I mean it. "I want this. I want you."
Something shifts in his expression, a vulnerability that makes him look younger despite the scars. "I want you too," he admits, voice rough. "More than I should. More than is probably safe for either of us."
"Since when do we do safe?" I ask, thinking of storage closets and poisoned champagne and hundred-million-dollar gambles.
"Good point." He shifts closer, the water sloshing gently. "But Red..."
I tense, wondering if this is where he tells me about some alpha quirk I should be worried about.
"What?"
"I don't do gentle well," he says, and there's warning in it. "I can try, I will try, but I'm not... I'm not a romance novel hero. I'm not going to quote poetry or scatter rose petals. I'm probably going to fuck it up somehow."
The honesty in his voice makes my chest tight. "Shiloh," I say, reaching up to touch his face, feeling the stubble rough against my palm. "I'm not asking for a romance novel. I'm asking for you. Just you, exactly as you are."
He turns his head, pressing a kiss to my palm that's so tender it makes my eyes sting.
"You might regret that."
"I might," I agree. "But I'd rather regret doing something than regret never trying."
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly.
"Okay…though I’m glad we’re not doing this in the tub."
"Why not?" I laugh in intrigue because I actually have no clue why we moved from the bath to the bed. I mean, sure, Iknow losing your virginity is supposed to hurt and stuff, and it gets kinda bloody like a horror film, but wouldn’t being in warm water be less…traumatic?They do say that if you take a bath on your period, the bleeding stops. Would that effect still apply?Clearly, my brain is simply trying to figure this out like a puzzle, though the only disadvantage would be the obvious — it’s pretty small for both of us.
