“You won’t. I trust you.”
A shudder wracked through me as he stroked a single finger between my legs. His caress was hesitant, his fear of hurting me echoing in his wary touch—afraid I’d break. Crack. Shatter into pieces. It was unreal to think a ruthless, merciless man who lived a life of brutality was capable of such tenderness. I could see it in his eyes, the worry he felt as he studied me with intent. It was only when my hips lifted, searching for more, that his hands explored me with more confidence. He never took his eyes off mine, and with each passing moment, his irises darkened, a reflection of his own desire. His body was already hard and primed to take me, yet he didn’t attempt to rush it—to rush me.
Another slow stroke against my sex, this time slipping deeper, and my legs twitched slightly, instinctively wanting to close.
He felt it and placed his palm against my thigh, the warmth of his hand fighting to keep me here with him. “Feel me, Neon. Feel my touch. Memorize it, because I’m the only man who will ever touch you again. No one else. I promise you, it will always just be me.”
I nodded, sucking on my bottom lip when he palmed himself, stroking the head of his cock through my slit. Again and again, he kept rubbing against my sensitive folds, merely nudging at my entrance, taking his time, allowing me to adjust to the feeling of him on the verge of claiming my body.
The flame of desire flared within me. Every touch, letting me feel his skin against mine, he executed with leisurely restraint, coaxing my body into the here and now, keeping it from slipping back to the past.
“I want to make you feel good again. I want to make you feel what it’s like to be with a man who cares for you, a man who wants to treat you like his queen.”
He kept his cock against my sex then reached out to palm my breast. My back arched, a fingertip brushing against my nipple, sending ripples of excitement down my spine. It was like a thousand butterflies had been awakened in my core, desire fluttering wildly as my body responded to his touch.
Still on his knees, he shifted closer, his hard, thick thighs pressing against the insides of mine. Reaching between us, guiding the head of his cock inside me, I tensed and closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. The white room was drawing closer. It lurked in the far corners of my mind, and it threatened to come to the surface, to ruin what was about to happen between Ink and me. Something that was meant to be beautiful.
“Neon, open your eyes.” He pulled away, his finger replacing his cock at my entrance, drawing circles against my sensitive flesh. “Baby, look at me.”
I opened my eyes again and chewed on my bottom lip, afraid the fear would become strong enough to smother the flames. “I’m scared,” I whispered.
“We don’t have to do this.” His hand was gone like my body had burned him. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have—”
“No, I want to do this. I just…I’m scared I won’t be good enough for you. I’m scared I won’t be able to give you what you need.”
“What I need is you. All of you, just as you are. That’s all I need.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes, and I clenched my jaw, desperate to keep them from falling. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you more than this, Ink. I’ll never be…adventurous, or spontaneous when it comes to sex. Even if all the broken pieces are put back together, there will always be cracks ready to shatter under the slightest pressure.”
“Listen to me, and you better listen good.” His finger slipped inside my pussy, and my hips bucked. “This is all I want. You are all I want.”
I shook my head. “All those women you’ve been with—”
“Are nothing compared to you. You hear me? Nothing.”
The wetness of my sorrow slipped down the side of my face. I so desperately wanted to be with him. After everything, I needed to feel what it was like to be with someone who didn’t want to break me, who didn’t want to make me scream. I was desperate to feel whole again. But I was so scared of disappointing him. And now that I had finally realized how much I needed him, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him because I was unable to give him what he needed.
Ink sat up. “Give me your hand.”
“What?”
He took my wrist, guiding my hand between my legs. “Touch yourself.”
“Ink, what—”
“Do you trust me?” With penetrating brown eyes, he kept my gaze. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
Not letting go of my wrist, he placed my hand between my legs. “You need to take control again. Take control of your own body, your own pleasure.”
One of his fingers pressed down on mine, my fingertip touching my clit. “Take it. Take back control.”
He kept my gaze as his hand and fingers guided me, touching myself. “Make it feel good.”
Tiny circles were all I could manage, my finger pressing lightly against the sensitive bud while his hand remained on mine. Once again, the flicker of desire started to burn brightly, my body climbing and legs trembling.
“That’s it, baby. Keep looking at me while you touch yourself.”