Page 75 of Sins of the Hidden

His head tilted slightly, processing. "What else makes you happy?"

The question hung between us. So simple yet revealing more than I meant to share. My fingers twisted in the blanket, eyes dropping to my lap.

"I've had it planned since I was seven," I admitted, voice smaller now. "Getting married. Not just the wedding, but being married to someone who..." My throat tightened. "Someone who sees me. Really sees me. Who wants me exactly as I am."

He cocked his head to the side, silently beckoning me to continue.

"I used to plan it all out. The flowers, the cake..." A nervous laugh escaped me. "I even picked out colors for the bridesmaids' dresses."

“You want to get married.”

I tucked my chin to my chest, just because I wanted to get married didn’t mean it would ever happen–not with most of the male population repulsed by my size. “I-I would like to one day.”

For a heartbeat, silence hung between us, thick enough to touch. Did I bore him?

“Oakley.”

“Y-Yes?”

"I want to fuck you."

The tea scorched the back of my throat, shooting up into my nose as I choked on the heat, spluttering as I set the cup aside, coughing hard enough to make my eyes sting. V’s hand poundedon my back—way too hard. Finally getting my breath, I managed to speak.

"W-What did you say?" I'd heard him loud and clear—I just couldn't believe it. Heat pulsed at my fingertips, at my temples, between my legs.

He kicked the cover off of us, sheets pooling at the foot of the bed. In one fluid motion, he swung his leg over my body, positioning himself directly above me. His powerful thighs straddled my hips, his weight settling over me, pinning me to the mattress. One large hand splayed on my pillow beside my head as the other gripped my shirt tightly, bunching the fabric next to my hip. The heat from his body radiated through the thin material, his position allowing me to feel every inch where our bodies connected. His knees dug into the mattress on either side of me, caging me beneath him as he loomed overhead. "I want to fuck you."

"I-I heard you!" I tried my hardest to stop my lip from trembling with emotion. "I don't?—"

He silenced me with a gesture, his hand moving from my hip to cup my face. The contradiction between the rough calluses of his palm and the gentleness behind the contact made my breath catch as his thumb traced my lower lip. His stare was a tether I couldn't break as he leaned closer.

I'd envisioned losing my virginity countless times, but never to the enforcer of a deadly motorcycle club. Having him here, actually saying the words, wanting me, wasn't something I ever thought would happen.

"I'm not perfect, V," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes. Even though he'd seen me naked when we bathed together, this felt different. More vulnerable. "I'm soft, I have stretch marks, I?—"

His response wasn't words but touch. His calloused palm tilted my chin up until I had no choice but to look athim. Without breaking his gaze, his hand moved slowly down my body, deliberately tracing the soft curve of my stomach, exploring the stretch marks I always tried to hide. There was no hesitation in the way he traced my skin—just reverence, like he was memorizing scripture.

"They're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes following his hand's path across my body, cradling my insecurities like they were worth loving before returning to lock with mine. "You're beautiful."

I bit my lower lip, working through the noise in my chest. He studied every flicker in my expression as I went through my emotions.

Memories ambushed me—the way his hands had coaxed pleasure from me on the couch, The Notebook forgotten as his fingers taught me how to fall apart. Heat surged between my thighs, my sex pulsing with sudden, overwhelming need. My breath caught as liquid warmth pooled deep inside me, my body responding to the ghost of his touch before I could stop it.

My thighs clenched involuntarily, the friction against my already sensitive flesh sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my core. A small, betraying whimper escaped my lips as I shifted beneath him, my hips lifting slightly, seeking pressure against the throbbing center of my desire. My nipples tightened against the thin fabric of my shirt, the subtle brush of cotton suddenly unbearable against my skin. His watchful gaze only intensified the heat spreading across my skin, my body's reaction impossible to hide as dampness gathered between my legs.

"W-We have to talk before we do this."

His body tensed above me, his brows raised slowly, realizing what I was saying. The slight dilation of his pupils was the only indication of his reaction. He leaned forward, his entire body covering me like a human blanket. Nestling his face intothe crook of my neck, I felt the texture of his mask against my sensitive skin.

"Then talk."

"Do you have condoms?" I might be a virgin, but I wasn't naive. I'd been on birth control for years to manage my PCOS symptoms, so pregnancy wasn't a concern. But protection against STDs was still important.

"No."

"Are you clean at least?" Not wanting to hear about his past sexual partners, I prayed for a one-word answer.

"We bathed together yesterday," he said flatly.

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