She smiled, a small, fragile thing, and then she got down on her knees in front of me.
I froze. My breath hitched.
The sight of her – down on her knees in the morning light, her eyes upturned to mine, her hands reaching for my belt – was more erotic than anything I could have imagined. She looked so small, so innocent, yet she was offering me the most intimate thing she had to give, and the possessiveness in me roared to life.
She fumbled with the buckle, her fingers trembling, and I helped her, my hands covering hers, guiding her. I undid the button, then the zipper, and slowly pulled it out.
“Gideon, I–“ She paused, as if she was trying to find the words, or the confidence. “I… want to make you feel good.”
Her words and the sight of her, looking up at me with such devotion, made
