“This is the opposite of hurry.” Leaping out of my skin seemed like a real possibility. I touched every inch of him that I could reach, stroking his slim but strong shoulders and his gorgeous mop of hair.

“Don’t rush me. I’m going to have this night on replay for years. Might as well make it feature-film length.”

“I’m going to remember this too.” There was so much else I wanted to say. Words. Declarations. Promises. But my throat already burned with the effort of admitting as much as I had. This was already the best night of my life, bar none. Dancing with him had felt like climbing a big, scary mountain only to find it wasn’t as hard as I’d thought, and this part was the exhilarating rush of celebrating having conquered some of my fears.

“You’d better.” He kissed my belly again, mouth everywhere except where I wanted it most, deft fingers on their own journey down my sides, over my thighs.

“Gonna remember that you were an evil tease.” I spread my legs, trying to encourage him to do this sometime this century and preferably before I detonated from nothing more than the rasp of his breath against my skin.

“Better this way. Trust me. Last thing you want is to rush into this…” His eyes flickered. There was a story there, but now was not the moment to ask for it. Still, though, I stroked his wrist, trying to let him know that I got it and that I appreciated his care.

So I let him take his time, let him lead like I had while dancing, trusting him to take us someplace good. And he did, one stroke, one kiss at a time, until finally he reached for the lube and I nearly wept with relief.

His touches were featherlight at first, and I had to bite back a reminder that I wasn’t made of crystal. But then he got more purposeful and suddenly it was moans, not snark, that I was holding back, trying not to be louder than the music. The speakers played a song from a cheesy movie, and somehow I knew those notes were going to be imprinted on my soul right along with this moment.

“Maybe…slow…not terrible,” I panted. “More.”

“If you roll over, it might be easiest on you.” Ever considerate, Jasper stroked my side with his other hand.

“Don’t want easy. Want you.” I’d done enough on my own to know that what I truly craved was watching his face like this, seeing the way wonder and awe and arousal battled for space, sharing more than simply physical sensations.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Milo. Can’t believe how lucky I am.”

I’d been a lot of things in my life. I wasn’t sure beautiful was one of them, but in that moment I believed him. “Now. Now. Please. Want it.”