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Something shifted in his face, tender and a little awed, like I’d handed him something fragile and precious all at once. He reached up and brushed the hair back from my forehead, his fingers lingering against my temple.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Tell me what to do. I ain’t got the first clue.”

I let out a small laugh, some of the nervous energy in my chest easing at the earnestness in his voice. “There’s, uh, some lube in my bag. And condoms if you want them.”

“Do you want them?”

I stared at him for a long moment before shaking my head. “No. I trust you.”

He reached over without letting go of me completely, fishing around in my duffel bag on the floor until he found the little bottle tucked into the side pocket. When he came back, he settled beside me again, propped up on one elbow, watching me with an expression so full of care it about undid me right then and there.

“You gotta tell me if somethin’ don’t feel right,” he said. “Promise me that.”

“I promise.” I reached up and cupped his jaw, thumb tracing along his cheekbone. “You’re not gonna hurt me, West. Just go slow. You ain’t exactly small.”

He kissed me then, slow and deep, and I felt myself melt into it, into him, all that lingering tension bleeding out of my shoulders. His hand slid down my side, over my hip, pulling me closer until there wasn’t any space left between us at all. I could feel him hard against my thigh, and the anticipation of it sent a shiver rolling through me that covered my skin in goosebumps.

“Lay back for me,” he murmured against my lips.

I did, settling into the pillow, watching him settle between my thighs with a kind of careful reverence that made my chest ache in the best way. He kissed down my neck, my chest, taking his time like he had all the patience in the world, like nothing about this needed to be rushed. By the time he reached lower, I was trembling, not from nerves anymore but from anticipation.

“Easy,” he whispered, when I gasped at the first press of his slicked finger, and he waited, watching my face for any hint that I wanted him to stop. I didn’t. I nodded him on, breath catching as he worked me open slowly, patient, murmuring soft things against my hip the whole while, words I could barely make sense of through the haze building up behind my eyes.

By the time he settled over me, his cock nudging where his fingers had just been, I was aching for him in a way that scared me a little with how much I wanted it.

“You ready, Buttercup?” he asked, forehead pressed to mine, his voice thick with restraint.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “More than ready.”

He did. He pushed in inch by inch, giving me time to adjust, his jaw tight with the effort of holding himself back. I felt myself stretch around him, a sharp burn that softened into something deeper, fuller, as he sank all the way to the hilt. I gasped his name, and he stilled completely, brushing kisses along my cheek and jaw.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Uh-huh,” I managed, my voice cracking. “Don’t stop now, West. Please.”

He began to move, slowly rolling his hips forward with a tenderness that had me clutching at his shoulders. Tears pricking at the corners of my eyes for reasons that had nothing to do with pain. Every thrust was careful, deliberate, like he was trying to show me with his body how much he loved me and how special I was to him. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper, and the sound he made was something I never knew I needed. But now that I’d heard it, I wanted it forever.

“Love you,” he breathed against my ear, his rhythm steady and slow. “I love you so damn much, Rhett.”

“Love you too,” I gasped back. “Please don’t stop.”

“I ain’t never gonna stop,” he replied, his hips never faltering. “Just tell me where you need me to be and I’ll be there.”

I reached down and pressed my palm flat against his lower back, guiding him closer, closer, until there wasn’t a hair’s width of space between us anywhere. His hips found a rhythm that matched my breathing, slow and rolling, and every time he sank deep I felt my heart crack open a little wider, letting more light in than I’d ever let myself have before.

“There,” I whispered, my hand sliding to grip his hip. “Right there, West.”

He adjusted, found the angle, and the sound that punched out of me was nothing I’d ever made before in my life. He froze for half a second, worry flashing across his face.

“Good?” he breathed.

“So fuckin’ good,” I managed, my voice wrecked already. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He didn’t. He kept that same slow, steady pace, dragging out every inch like he wanted to feel every last bit of me, like rushing would mean missing something he couldn’t get back. My hands roamed over his shoulders, down the muscles of his back slick now with a fine sheen of sweat. I pulled him down until his chest pressed flush to mine, until I could feel his heart hammering right alongside my own.

“Rhett.” My name came out of him like a prayer, low and growling, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. “You feel… goddamn, you feel perfect.”

“West.” I tightened my legs around him, urging him deeper, needing him closer than close. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”