It was violent and all-consuming for what felt like the shortest minute of my life, and then it slowly faded, even as I tried to grapple and hold onto it.

“No,” I whimpered as the last of it faded, and Clay laughed against my mouth, kissing me as his fingers stilled within me.

“Don’t worry, Kitten,” he whispered. “There are plenty more orgasms where that came from.”

I gasped. “Is that what that was?”

“Wait,” Clay said, pulling back so he could see my eyes. “Was that the first time?”

I flushed. “I mean… I’ve… you know I’ve done that a few times to myself but… never… never that.”

Clay’s brows bent together, and he shook his head. “Jesus, Giana… I didn’t know. I…” He swallowed. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

I smiled. “Thank you for the lesson.”

I leaned up onto my elbows as he carefully removed his fingers from inside me, and I shuddered at the loss.

“Although,” I said. “It’s not over yet.”

I reached for him, paused, and then reached between my own legs, instead, remembering how he’d wanted my hand to be wet before I touched him. I gasped when I felt just how wet I was, even more excited to coat him with it and bring him the same pleasure.

But it was almost too wet.

I frowned, bringing my fingertips up so the light of the television reflected on them.

And then promptly shrieked in horror.

“Oh, GOD!” I balked, panicking when I realized the same crimson liquid that covered my fingers also covered Clay’s.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, holding up that bloody hand as if to soothe me. “It happens. It’s natural.”

“I bled on you,” I whisper-shrieked. Immediately, I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. “Oh my God.”

Frantically, I turned on the faucet and doused my hand, scrubbing it with soap and hot water until the blood was gone. I grabbed a washcloth next, soaking it and turning to run it into the room for Clay, but I slammed into his chest in the process.

His hands framed my arms. “Whoa.”

“Here,” I said, shoving the warm rag at him as I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey—”

“I’m so embarrassed. You must be so grossed out. Oh, God.”

“Kitten,” Clay said, firmer, his clean hand tapping under my chin. He waited until I opened my eyes, until he was looking down into them with his piercing green pools. “It’s just a little blood. It’s not gross. It’s natural. It doesn’t freak me out. I feel fucking honored that you let me be the one to touch you like that for the first time. Okay?”

I closed my lips, swallowing, frowning, freaking the fuck out.

“Okay?” he asked again.