When he finally hooks his fingers into the waistband and slides my underwear down, I'm practically vibrating with need. But instead of continuing, he pauses, his expression suddenly serious.
"Lila, before we go further... I need to warn you about something."
My heart stutters. Oh God, is this where he tells me he has an STD? Or a wife? Or he's actually an alien with tentacles instead of?—
"I'm larger than average," he says, looking utterly serious, like he was delivering a medical disclaimer. "It can be painful for some women. I don't want to hurt you."
I blink up at him, trying to process what he's saying. Holy shit. Did he actually just give me the "my dick's too big" warning? Like, for real? In twenty-five years, this is definitely a first.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I mean, guys have bragged about size before, but never as a hazard warning. It's like finding a "Caution: Hot" label on a coffee cup, except it's... well, you know.
"Is that... common for you?" I ask, trying to keep my face neutral. "Giving penis safety briefings?"
"I'm serious, Lila."
"So am I," I say, reaching up to touch his face. "Look, I appreciate the heads-up, but maybe we cross that anatomical bridge when we get to it?"
His expression softens slightly. "Just tell me if I hurt you, okay? At any point."
I nod, touched by his concern despite the absurdity. "Pretty sure I can handle you, Wolfe."
The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch. "We'll see."
When Dane stands to remove his pants, I can't help but watch with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. The muscles in his abdomen flex as he pushes his jeans down, and I'm too busy admiring that perfect V-line to notice anything else at first.
Then I look down and—holy shit.
Oh. My. God.
"That's... wow." The words tumble out before I can stop them. My eyes widen, and I'm pretty sure my jaw is somewhere on the floor.
Turns out his "size warning" wasn't just male ego talking. The man is not kidding around down there. Like, at all. I've seen my share of naked guys, but this is... well, "larger than average" feels like calling a hurricane "a bit breezy."
"You weren't exaggerating," I manage, my mouth suddenly dry. I swallow hard, heat rushing through my entire body.
"We'll take it slow."
"Oh, we definitely will," I breathe, unable to tear my eyes away.
Something primal kicks in, overriding any lingering nervousness. My body responds instantly, desire flooding through me with an intensity that's almost embarrassing. I press my thighs together, acutely aware of how wet I am.
"Jesus Christ, Dane," I whisper, reaching out to touch him. He sucks in a sharp breath when my fingers make contact. "Were you, like, exposed to radiation as a teenager?"
He laughs, the sound low and strained.
"Sorry. Defense mechanism," I admit about the jokes, my voice husky. "Kind of like how prey animals freeze when they see a predator."
His eyes darken at that. "Is that what I am? A predator?"
"In the best possible way," I assure him.
Dane rolls to his side next to me, his body radiating heat like a furnace. His eyes lock with mine, intense and focused in a way that makes my insides clench.
"One thing that'll help you take me in is being very wet," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
I swallow hard, trying to maintain at least a shred of my usual snark. "Is this the dirty talk portion of the evening? Because I feel like we should've established a safe word first."
He doesn't laugh, just gives me that look—the one that makes me feel like I'm being peeled open layer by layer. "I need to check."
