Page 18 of Anchor
He searched her eyes, as if making sure she understood. “I was tested one week ago, routine for the job. Bloodwork’s clear.”
She nodded once. “I believe you.”
His mouth curved faintly, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. “Then we take our time.”
When he kissed her again, it was slow and deep. His hands traced her in long, steady lines, memorizing without rushing. Every movement seemed meant to reassure her she was safe here, safe with him. As she felt herself relax under his touch, the earlier ache, the sharp, old wound her mother had left faded into something warmer, fuller.
“You’re beautiful.” His words came out with such softness and honesty, something in her broke.
Her breath caught, but not from nerves, not from shyness. That wasn’t her. But from the way he said it. Like the words had been waiting, unspoken, at the back of his throat for a long time.
His mouth found her collarbone, then lower. His lips were warm against one breast, his thumb brushing gently over the other. Her nipple tightened under the touch, and her spine arched subtly as a shiver threaded through her.
He stood and sank to his knees. Her fingers hovered at her sides, unsure. She wasn’t used to attention, much less this kind of reverence. His hands slid up her legs slowly. When his mouth kissed just below her navel, her breath hitched.
He navigated her body, lower. She gasped, startled by how good it felt, how warm his breath was against skin no one else had ever touched before.
He looked up. “Tell me if I should stop.”
She shook her head, breath thin. “No. Don’t…”
When he slid her panties down, she stepped out of them without thinking. The air on her thighs made her shiver again. Her heart beat loud and steady in her ears.
His hands traced her legs, then higher, until he reached her center. She tensed instinctively, but then his thumb brushed her clit, and her knees buckled. A noise escaped her throat before she could stop it. It was something soft, shocked, and almost broken. One hand landed on his shoulder, not to stop him but to keep from falling.
“Okay?” he asked, voice rough.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”
When his fingers slipped inside her, she gasped. Her breath fractured. Her body clung to the sensation. It was new, too much and not enough all at once.
“No one’s ever…” she tried to say, but the words got lost somewhere between her chest and her throat.
He didn’t tease. Didn’t smirk. He just kissed the inside of her thigh and kept going. The rhythm of his fingers was slow and careful. But it undid her.
Her legs shook, and her breath broke. Then she came. The sensation moved through her, hard and sudden, like her body had finally stopped holding in years of pressure. She cried out, loud, helpless, curling around the wave of it. Both hands gripped his shoulders.
When she opened her eyes, she was trembling. He was still there.
He stood, reaching for her, pulling her to him. She kissed him and felt the shape of his jaw under her palm, the taste of her on his lips.
Her fingers found his belt. She fumbled, her fingers shaking. He stepped from his shoes and toed his socks free. He helped her slide his underwear down. He gave her time to look and to let her see him.
He pressed her to the bed, her head supported by pillows. When he moved beside her, hard and warm and vibrant, the heat rose between her thighs again. His cock brushed against her, and her whole body shook.
He stilled. “Claire…” he murmured near her ear.
She blinked, still hazy. His lips pressed against her with a gentleness that made her chest heave with emotions she’d spent a lifetime suppressing.
“Do you want me to stop?” He sounded steady but careful.
“No. Please don’t.” It came out a plaintive cry—she was used to being disappointed.
He kissed her again and didn’t pull away. Didn’t shift. But something in him softened, like he knew exactly what she was handing him, and how much it cost.
His hand found her cheek. His cornflower-blue eyes locked onto hers. “I won’t hurt you.”
And she believed him. “I know,” she whispered. “I want this. I want you.”
