Another reckless nod from Emma pushes me closer and closer to trouble.

It’ll be worth the consequences.

“Please,” she whispers breathlessly.

There’s that goddamn word again, unhinging me and roaring in my ears. The plea makes me want to learn every fucking thing she likes and give it back to her tenfold.

So. That’s what I’m going to do.

I bring my lips down, millimeters away from hers, ready to engage in a full-on war.

“As much as I love to hear you beg, you’re going to have to tell me exactly what you want. I’m not touching you until you explicitly say it’s okay, because the second I rip off your shorts and finally taste your sweet, delicious pussy, I’m never coming up for air, Sunflower. Even if it kills me.”

She moans, and triumph and pride beat in my chest, a possessive kick to my libido. It’s enough conveyance for me, and I kiss her—hard—delighting in the way she pulls me in. The way her hands scramble around my neck. Her mouth gluing itself to mine, afraid of letting me move too far away.

Honey, I’m here for good.

The noises she’s making could destroy nations. Start battles. Little breaths and pants sneak out, and I swallow each one down greedily, a lead bullet to my heart.

“Henry,” she gasps.

“What do you want?” I ask, resting my forehead against hers while my fingers trace the hem of her shirt, skimming across her stomach.

“You. I-I need you… I need you to touch me.”

You.

Need. Need. Need.

I need you.

Funny. I’m beginning to feel the same way about her.

With permission, I tear the shirt from her body, heroically not ripping it to pieces. She moves backwards on the bed and tilts her hips up. Far too late, I realize she’s taking off her shorts, and I snap my wandering eyes away from the disappearing shield protecting me from seeing all her glory.

Safe. It’s safe up here.

Up here, I can’t lose control.

Up here, I can’t mess up.

Up here, I can prevent myself from driving into her straight away, feeling her wet heat around my throbbing dick.

My heart is thumping way too erratically, nervous as fuck wanting to get this right.

I need to get this right.

Need. Need. Need.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m sorry.” She takes a deep, steadying breath, and I frown.

“Why in the world are you apologizing?” I ask, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint you or anything.”

“Disappoint me? Nothing you do could disappoint—Emma.” Understanding dawns on me. “You’ve had sex, right?” I ask it carefully, not wanting to offend or assume. The answer is going to significantly impact what happens next.