“Of course I have,” she scoffs, eyes snapping to mine. “It’s just been awhile.”

“Define awhile.” I drop my hand to her hip, fingers dancing over the bare skin. The silence and tension in the room has grown thick and palpable. I wait patiently, not hurrying her along.

“Six years,” she admits, and my brain almost implodes. “You know how much I work. I… I haven’t had time for anyone.”

“Fuck,” I groan, grabbing her neck and bringing her mouth to mine, lips crashing together in a frenzied affection.

She’s gone six long years without being appreciated. No one has tasted her. Touched her. Brought her over the edge repeatedly, body withering as orgasm after orgasm consumed her.

Good.

Now she’s mine to worship and adore. To torment and ravish. To kiss and cuddle. To give the whole fucking world.

Mine.

“I still know what I want. I want you, Henry. I want you to fuck me.” She arches her back, chest pressing into mine. Her hard nipples are like glass against my muscles and I almost spasm at the contact. “I might be a little difficult to work with, and I’m sorry in advance. I’m sure most of the girls you’ve been with have more… experience.”

I cup her chin, tilting it up, bringing it to meet my gaze. “Hey. We’re not going to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Any sort of comparisons. I’m here with you. I want to be here with you, Emma. Only you. And you’re goddamn perfect. You aren’t going to be difficult. You aren’t going to be a chore or too much work. You do not need to apologize. We’re doing this together. Okay?”

She looks at me, her eyes warming and sparkling. “Okay,” she agrees.

“Good girl. Now lie back, so I can make you come like you deserve.”

Those luminescent blue orbs widen at my brazenness. After only two seconds, she nods, easing back on the pillows. Her blonde hair fans out above her head, reminiscent of an angel’s halo, bright as day against the navy fabric. Once she gets comfortable, she drops her chin toward her chest—an approval—and I start my journey down her body.

One quick look at the wondrous sight under me, and I’m a weakened, ruined, wounded man.

Her tits are the perfect size, sitting evenly on her chest. The dusty pink nipples are pointed, aching to be pinched between my fingers. Continuing down, I notice the slight protrusion of her ribs, and a flat stomach. Fair skin leads to deceivingly voluptuous hips, the swell of her thighs begging me to sink my fingers into them. When my eyes reach her parted legs, I suck in a strangled breath.

A second bullet to my heart. And my dick.

“Emma,” I croak, voice catching as I relax back onto my heels.