“Take off your shirt,” he says. He stands beside the bed, towering over me, and I’m a quivering mess of excitement and arousal. It’s such a simple request: take off your shirt. Somehow, though, the words seem difficult to comprehend because I just look at him. He’s strong. His arms are thick and muscular and his abs are rock solid. I want to reach for him, to touch him, but he did have a request.
I should give him what he’s asking for.
I think ‘that Edward expects me to just rip off my shirt and give it to him, but I’m not going to do that. Instead, I’ll tease him a little. I may be a virgin fairy, but I’m an adult woman and I know there’s more to pleasing a man than just giving him what he says he wants.
So I kneel up and tug at the bottom of my top. It’s tiny and thin and it’s already barely covering me, but I tease it up slowly. My hands roam my tummy as I pull the shirt up. His eyes are locked on me as I touch myself.
I know what he’s thinking.
I know he’s thinking about what I’ll look like without the shirt on.
I know he’s thinking about what it’ll feel like to touch me.
I know he’s thinking that I’m taking far too long with this, but I’ve never had the chance to tease someone before. Not like this. I’m not about to let the moment go to waste.
Finally, he growls, just a little, urging me on, and I chuckle. I pull the shirt up and over my head and toss it aside, letting it fall. It lands on the floor with a soft sound and then I’m kneeling before him wearing only my pants.
There’s something completely vulnerable about being naked in front of someone else for the first time.
Or ever.
There’s something that’s just a little bit unnerving about what’s happening between us right now. Edward’s eyes never leave my body. Not for a second. I know this because I’m watching him carefully to see what’s going to happen next.
I’m watching him and I’m waiting and I’m looking and I want to know what he’s going to do.
I want to know what comes next.
“You’re perfect,” he finally says, and it sends a thrill of happiness through me that I didn’t even know was possible to feel.
Perfect?
Strong words from such a handsome man.
Perfect.
I let those words settle in my heart, just a little, and I think about how wonderful they make me feel.
Perfect.
I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but I’ve never been called that, and it’s a really wonderful word to have used to describe me. I like it a lot and if Edward wants to call me perfect again, well, he has my permission.
He moves closer.
Closer.
Closer.
He leans down, palms on the bed, and kisses my mouth. Then he gentle runs his lips over my neck, down my collarbone, and then to my breasts. He takes his time touching me, teasing me.
“These are lovely,” he says.
“Thank you,” I whisper, because I’m not really sure what the etiquette is supposed to be during a moment like this.
/> “Perfect,” he kisses one breast. “Absolutely stunning,” he kisses the other.
Then he pushes me back on the bed and I’m sprawled out. He pulls off the rest of my clothes, and the rest of his, and he rests beside me on his side. He traces circles over my body and he teases me, kissing me and playing with me.
When his hand settles between my legs, I don’t fight him. I don’t fight any of this. I refuse to feel embarrassed or ashamed or uncomfortable with what’s happening. Everything’s that going on right now is totally perfect. It’s lovely and incredible and so very much what I want right now.