“Like the women you’re probably used to.” The words came out in a rush, all my insecurities spilling out at once. “I’m not thin or perfect or—”
“Stop.” His voice was firm but gentle. “You think I care about any of that?”
“Don’t you?”
Instead of answering with words, he showed me. His hands skimmed down my sides, over the curves I’d always tried to hide,and his touch was reverent, worshipful. Like my curves were hot, instead of something to be ashamed of.
“I love your curves,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I love the way you feel.” His hands fell to my hips, dragging me against his body and leaving me in no doubt that he did find me absolutely attractive.
Something inside me started to dissolve. That knot of fear I’d been carrying around for years. When he looked at me like that, touched me like that, I finally believed I was the beautiful, desirable woman he seemed to see.
“Can I?” he asked, his fingers playing with the thin straps of my babydoll top.
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and he slowly slipped the straps off my shoulders. The silk slid over my arms and down my body like a whisper, pooling at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my matching shorts.
His hands came up to cup the heavy weight of my breasts while his thumbs brushed over my nipples. The sensation shot straight through me, making me gasp and arch into his touch.
“So responsive,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. “So perfect.”
I’d never felt perfect before. Never felt like my body was something to be worshipped instead of hidden. But the way his hands moved over me, the way his breath caught when I pressed closer, made me feel like the most beautiful woman alive. Like maybe I’d been waiting for the wrong men my whole life—until now.
“Ellie,” he breathed, and then his mouth was on my skin, lips and tongue and teeth tracing patterns across my collarbone, down to my breasts.
When he took my nipple into his mouth, I cried out, my hands flying to his hair to hold him closer. The sensation was electric, shooting straight to my core and making my knees weak.
He lavished attention on one breast and then the other, his hands never still, mapping every curve and hollow like he was memorizing me. I was drowning in sensation, in the feel of his mouth on my skin, his hands on my body.
“Your turn,” I said, surprised by my own boldness.
He smiled—just the second real smile I’d seen from him—and pulled his shirt over his head. And holy heaven, he was beautiful. All broad shoulders and defined muscles and scattered scars that told stories I wanted to learn by heart.
I reached out to touch him, my fingers tracing the line of a scar that ran along his ribs. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore.” His voice was strained, and I could see the effect my touch was having on him. “Ellie...”
“I know.” I could feel it too. The way every brush of skin against skin sent sparks shooting through me. We weren’t just playing around. This was it. The moment I’d fantasized about—only real, and raw, and so much better.
He backed me toward the bed again, his hands never leaving my body, his mouth finding mine again and again. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I let myself fall, pulling him down with me.
The weight of him on top of me was perfect, all heat and solid muscle and the scent of his skin. I could feel how much he wanted me, could feel the tension in his body as he still held himself in check.
“I want you,” I whispered against his ear. “All of you.”
He groaned, a sound that vibrated through his chest into mine. “Are you sure? Because once we do this—”
“Once we do this, what?” I looked up at him, at the conflict written across his face. “You’ll care about me? News flash, Nate—I already care about you too.”
“This changes everything.”
“Good,” I said, echoing what I’d told him that morning. “I want everything to change.”
CHAPTER SIX
Nate
Fuck, she was perfect.
Ellie arched beneath me, her hands fisted in my hair as I lavished attention on her breasts. Every soft moan, every gasp that escaped her lips, went straight to my cock. I was harder than I’d ever been in my life, my jeans painfully tight as I fought to keep control.
