Page 113 of Daisy

"I'm sure." Her hands fist in my shirt. "I want this. I want you."

I study her face. Looking for any hint of doubt. All I see is trust. Want. Love.

"Okay." I brush my thumb across her cheek. "Slow."

"Okay."

I take her hand. Lead her to the bed. My hands are shaking again as I sit on the edge. Pull her to stand between my knees.

"You're nervous," she says, touching my face.

"Terrified," I admit. "Want this perfect for you."

"It will be. Because it's with you." She bites her lip, a nervous habit I've noticed. "I'm nervous too. But good nervous."

Her words hit me right in the chest.

I start by just touching her. Hands on her waist over my shirt. Thumbs stroking the strip of skin where the fabric rides up. She shivers. Her scent gets richer. More complex. I can see goosebumps rise on her arms despite the warmth of her skin, another sign her heat is close.

"Can I take this off?" I tug at the shirt.

She nods. Raises her arms. I lift it over her head slowly. Giving her time to change her mind. But she doesn't. Just standsthere in her simple white bra and sleep shorts. Looking like every fantasy I never let myself have.

"Beautiful." Because she is. Not just physically, though she takes my breath away. But the way she's looking at me. Like I'm something precious.

I trace the line of her collarbone with one finger. She gasps. Her skin is so soft. So warm. I can feel her pulse racing under my touch.

"Is this okay?"

"More than okay."

I lean forward. Press a soft kiss to the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. She makes a small sound. Hands come up to tangle in my hair. Her scent wraps around me. I have to fight the urge to bite down. Mark her. Claim her.

Slow. Gentle. She trusts you.

I work my way down. Kissing across her collarbone. Down to the swell of her breasts above her bra. She's trembling now. Not from fear. From want.

"Can I?" I touch the clasp of her bra.

"Yes."

My hands are definitely shaking as I unhook it. Slide the straps down her arms. When it falls away and I see her completely, I nearly lose it right there.

"Perfect," I breathe.

I worship her with my mouth. Gentle kisses and soft touches that have her gasping and pressing closer. When I take one peak between my lips, she cries out. Back arching.

"Gunner." She moans.

"Feel good?"

"So good. Don't stop."

I don't. I take my time. Learning what makes her sigh. What makes her moan. Her hands in my hair, tugging when I hit aparticularly sensitive spot. The way she says my name like a prayer.

When her legs start shaking from pleasure and the restless energy coursing through her pre-heat body, I guide her to lie back on the bed. Hook my fingers in her shorts.

"These too?"