Page 132 of The Thief
"I promise."
I kiss her then, deep and slow, pouring everything I feel into the connection between us. When I finally push inside her, it's gradual, careful, giving her time to adjust.
"Okay?" I ask.
"Perfect. You're perfect."
But I don't move yet. Just hold her, letting her body adjust and the intimacy build between us.
"What do you need?" I whisper.
"You. All of you."
I start to move then, slow and deep, building a rhythm that's more about connection than release. Her hands slide up my back, nails digging in slightly, anchoring herself to me.
"That's it," I murmur. "Take what you need."
She meets every thrust, matches my rhythm, and I can feel some of the tension leaving her body. The grief is still there, but it's sharing space with something else now. Something warm and real and ours.
"More," she breathes.
"More what? Tell me what you want."
"Your hand. On my throat. Light."
The request sends heat straight through me, but I search her face first, making sure this is what she really wants and it’s not just desperation talking.
"You're sure?"
"Please."
My hand slides up her throat, fingers positioning carefully. Just enough pressure to make her breath catch, to add an edge to the pleasure building between us.
"Like this?"
"Yes. God, yes."
The combination of sensation—my hand on her throat, my body moving inside hers—makes her eyes flutter closed. But I want to see her, want to watch her face as I take her apart.
"Look at me," I command softly.
Her eyes open, and lock on mine. The trust there, the complete surrender, nearly breaks me.
"Beautiful," I tell her. "So fucking beautiful like this."
I increase the pressure slightly, feeling her pulse racing under my fingers. But I'm careful, so careful. This is about trust, about giving her what she needs, not about control.
"Tell me how it feels."
"Like flying. Like drowning. Like everything I've ever wanted."
Her words fuel something primal in me, but I force myself to stay in control. To focus on her pleasure instead of my own.
"Not yet," I say when I feel her starting to tighten around me. "Not until I say."
"Freddie—"
"Trust me. I'll give you what you need, but not yet."
