Slowly, deliberately, he unhooks it, sliding the straps down my arms, his touch featherlight. The second I’m bare, his hands settle on my waist, his thumbs stroking over my ribs like he’s savoring the feel of me.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, almost like he’s saying it to himself.

A flush spreads over my skin, but I don’t get the chance to dwell on it because then his hands dip lower, toying with the waistband of my leggings.

“Help me get these off of you.”

I do as he asks, and he slides them down, along with my underwear, stripping me completely.

He leans back on his heels, taking me in, his gaze dark with hunger.

Then, his hands go to his own shirt.

My breath catches as he pulls it over his head in one smooth motion, revealing broad shoulders, firm muscle, the sharp cut of his abdomen.

I can’t look away, and he knows it.

His hands go to his belt, unbuckling it slowly, then working open the button and zipper of his jeans. My pulse pounds as he shoves them down, along with his boxers, and—

Oh.

My breath stutters.

He’s big.

My thighs press together involuntarily, my whole body pulsing with anticipation. Suddenly remembering the delicious ache after our first time together. I just didn’t realize he is that big.

Theo catches my reaction, and a slow, knowing smirk tugs at his lips. “Something on your mind, Sweetheart?”

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

His smirk deepens. “Don’t worry.” He cups my chin, tilting my head up. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.”

A whimper slips out before I can stop it.

His pupils darken, and he guides me to the middle of my bed. “Lie back,” he orders.

I obey, stretching out against the sheets, my body humming with anticipation.

Theo climbs onto the bed, settling between my thighs, his broad hands bracketing my hips, holding me in place. His touch is warm and grounding, but there’s another layer to it—a possessiveness. Like he’s staking his claim.

He leans down, his lips ghosting over my stomach, leaving behind the softest, most infuriating kisses, each one dragging lower, closer to where I need him.

“I told you I could do better,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. His voice is low and steady, but I don’t miss the hunger simmering underneath.

His hands slide up my sides, slow and deliberate, mapping out every inch of me like he’s memorizing me.

He presses a kiss just above my navel. “Let’s see just how many times I can make you come before I give you what you really want.”

My breath catches.