Page 85 of Guarded Love

"Good," I whisper. "I'd hate to be the only one freaking out."

He moves back slightly, his eyes drinking me in like I'm something he's been waiting his whole life to see. His hands hover just above my skin, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his palms.

"I want to take my time with you. Is that okay?"

I nod because finding words is difficult. His fingers find the thin straps of my thong, but instead of pulling it down immediately, he traces the elastic along my hip bones.

"You're shaking," he observes softly.

"So are you," I point out, because his hands are trembling slightly against my skin.

He pauses, looking down at his own hands like he's surprised by their betrayal. "I am." He meets my eyes again. "I've thought about this moment for so long, and now that it's here..."

"Now that it's here?" I chime in.

"I want to remember everything." His thumbs continue their gentle exploration. "The way you look right now. How your skin feels. The sound you make when I touch you here." He presses a gentle kiss to the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. I make a soft gasp that makes him grin.

His fingers finally hook under the thin fabric at my hips. He pulls the thong down slowly, and I lift slightly to help him. When he’s done, he tosses it aside without looking and I don’t care where it landed.

"Wills, fuck," he starts to say as his gaze travels down my body. "You're..."

"Breathe, Blaise," I whisper, because his chest is rising and falling as if he’s having a hard time catching his breath.

He lets out a shaky laugh. "Right. Breathing. That's...that's a good idea."

But instead of touching me, he just stares. His eyes trace every inch of my skin like he's committing it to memory. But I’ve had enough of this waiting game. It’s time to put up or shut up.

I sit up to yank his boxers down. "Your turn."

He catches my wrists gently but firmly, stopping my movement. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes me pause, but not from fear. I feel as if the intensity has been kicked up a notch and where I normally would have tried to argue with him, I wait for his next instruction.

Happily.

"Not yet. Tell me what you want first."

"You know what I—" I start, but he cuts me off.

"No. I don’t. And be specific." His grip on my wrists tightens slightly. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

The command in his voice sends a jolt straight to my pussy. "I want you to touch me," I manage to say.

"Where?" His eyes stare into mine. "Say it."

I can feel my cheeks reddening. "Blaise..."

"Say it, Willow. Tell me where you want my hands."

The words stick in my throat. I'm not used to this. I’m not the person who has to ask or voice what I want so explicitly in the bedroom. But the way he's looking at me, waiting for me to comply, pushes away any awkwardness I feel about it.

"I want you to touch my breasts," I whisper.

"Good girl." The praise makes me shiver. Looks like he’s not the only one with a praise kink. "What else?"

"I want..." I swallow hard. "I want you inside me."

"How?" He leans closer. "With my fingers? My mouth? My cock?"

The crude words from his lips make me gasp. "All of it. Everything."

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