“I want to make you feel good.” My voice is barely audible. “I want you to make me feel good. I’ve been dreaming about it. Touching myself to the thought of you for months. But the truth is, my body only reacts to trauma.”

For a moment, I can’t look at him. I can’t bear to see pity or hesitation or anything that might make me regret admitting my feelings.

But Vic doesn’t hesitate. Instead, he moves closer with his steady hands cradling my face, tilting my chin so I have no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Kerry.” His voice is low, threaded with something so deep, so sure, it makes my breath hitch. “I need you to understand something, and I need you to hear me when I say it.”

I swallow hard, nodding.

His fingers brush against my jaw, soft, reverent. “The way I want you? It has nothing to do with undoing your past, proving something, or fixing anything. You don’t need fixing.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I just want you. All of you. However you’ll have me.”

A shiver runs through me, but it’s not fear. It’s not panic. It’s longing. It’s relief. It’s him. My eyes flutter closed as he trails his fingers down the side of my neck, barely grazing me yet igniting molten lava deep in my core. “I’ll wait for you, Kerry. However long it takes.” He leans in, lips grazing my cheek. “But when you’re ready? When you’re really ready?” His voice dips lower. “I won’t just make you feel good. I’ll make you feel everything.”

My breath shudders, and my skin tingles from where his words touched me. Something inside me unlocks, loosens, expands. Because I believe him. I believe that my body is mine. That pleasure doesn’t have to come with pain. That I don’t have to brace myself, that I don’t have to fear what comes next. That with him, I can want. And right now? I want him.

The weight of my desire is overwhelming, making my heart hammer as I lean in and kiss him slow, deep, and full of unspoken promises. Vic groans into my mouth, and his hands thread into my hair, gripping me like he’s holding onto something precious. Like he’s holding onto me.

When I pull away, his lips are parted, his chest rising and falling. Then I retreat from his lap, putting just enough distance between us, his brows knit together in confusion.

I reach for the hem of my sweatshirt, and his entire body goes still. I peel it over my head and let it drop to the floor. Then my leggings. Then my bra. Then everything.