He didn’t deserve the way she lifted her own shirt over her head, baring all that soft, beautiful skin. The way she unbuttoned her jeans.

It struck him all at once what she was doing. His body, already primed by her closeness and his nakedness, went instantly, shockingly hard.

“Kate—”

The look in her eyes as she pulled back left him no doubt. He swallowed, throat working against a tightness that didn’t make any sense.

She slid her palm down his chest to rest over his heart. “I want this.”

She couldn’t possibly want it as much as he did.

And yet, for all his experience, there was something inside of him that trembled. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t.” Her fingers splayed out wide across his ribs, and she looked at him with eyes that were so deep. So bold, where before they had always held fear. “Do you want me?”

His mouth went dry. “More than you know.”

Gaze steady, cheeks warm, she said, “Then please. Rylan. I’m ready.”

He hadn’t seen it.

Even when confronted with the most obvious, incontrovertible evidence of how she felt, Rylan had let it slip right past him. The whole time he’d been staring at the lovesick drawings she’d done, he’d had those ghosts in his eyes again, and her heart had hurt. For her and for him.

There’d only been one other way to let him know. One way to satisfy the emptiness that came with the thought of holding back from him now.

It hadn’t been a hardship, beginning to match his nakedness with hers. They’d been together like this enough times by now. It hadn’t even taken much to offer him what she knew he’d always wanted. After all: This wasn’t that one-night stand she’d had that once. Rylan wasn’t drunk, and he’d proven he wasn’t selfish. This wouldn’t be painful. It would probably feel good.

And she’d get to keep it. Later, after she’d left him and gone back home, she would always have this to look back to.

Rylan’s throat bobbed as he covered her hand with his, pressing it harder to his chest. He flicked his gaze from her eyes to her breasts to her hips and back. “Are you sure?”

Just like he had considered her drawings before rendering a verdict, she gave it the thought it deserved. Nothing in her heart wavered or changed.

Then she pulled her hand free of his. Reached back to unhook her bra and let the straps slide down her arms and hoped that was answer enough.

Dropping his gaze to the hollow of her throat, he placed a fingertip there and traced it through the space between her breasts, down to her navel, where he stopped. He looked her in the eyes again. “You change your mind and you tell me. Anything that makes you uncomfortable. If anything I do, if I touch you wrong or . . .”

She took his hand and brought it to the gap where she’d undone her jeans. He licked his lips and nodded. Together, they pushed the denim off her hips, taking her underwear with it. She grasped the sheet he’d draped across his waist and set it aside.

And then they were naked. Together. She shivered, because it was different this time, with her offering him everything. Knowing how deeply he’d affected her in this handful of days.

Refusing to be frightened, she shifted, edging closer to straddle his hips. It trapped the hard length of him between their bodies as she curled her fingers around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. She opened her mouth, and he slid his tongue inside, letting out a choked sound of desire as he wrapped his arms around her. God. He felt so good like this, so warm and solid and protective. With one broad palm between her shoulder blades, he folded the other around her hip, sliding it down to cup her backside before gliding it along her thigh. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, the tips tingling as they rubbed against firm flesh.

She got lost in it, melting into him, an ache of need growing soft and hot and wet within her sex. With long, lush kisses that went on and on, he kept her close, and how had she ever doubted that this would be how sex would feel with him? Safe. Like nothing could hurt her—not even him.

She shifted her hips against him, and he moaned into her mouth. He pulled back from her lips, dropping to suck kisses across her neck and jaw.

“How do you want this to go?”

“I don’t know.” She let her head fall to the side, just wanting him to keep doing what he was doing. She gripped his shoulder tighter as he scraped his teeth against her throat. “However you want. Whatever you—”

He shhed her. “I’ll take care of you.”

God, how had he known that was exactly what she needed him to say? The heat building between her legs bloomed anew as he lifted her, twisting them both until she was falling into the mattress. He shoved aside the mound of pillows he had rested on while she had sketched. She grabbed at him when he moved to pull away.

“Just a second,” he promised.

She shivered without his heat, but she didn’t reach for the covers. It felt strange to be lying there nude while she waited for him, except—except this had to have been how it had felt for him. For a couple of hours, he had laid himself out for her, entirely exposed.

The least she could do was wait a couple of minutes and not be afraid.

He’d retreated to the foot of the bed, and she furrowed her brows in confusion for a second before he picked up her sketchbook. How could she have forgotten it was there? With absolute care, he closed it and put it on the desk in the corner, turning back to smirk at her. “Wouldn’t want it to get messed up.”

Then he padded over to his bag and unzipped one of the little pockets on the side. He palmed something, and she frowned, confused until she realized what it had to be.

He set the condom packet on the bedside table before coming to sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. He looked her over, and she tried not to fidget or wilt beneath his gaze. With the softest touch, he ran the backs of his knuckles down the length of her side, tracing the curve of her breast and the dip of her navel. The swell of her hip.

“What I would give to be able to draw right now.”

Her lip wobbled, and she couldn’t take it anymore. “Come here,” she urged, intertwining her fingers with his and tugging him down.

He came willingly enough, rolling to lie beside her, his front flush against her thigh. As he gazed down at her, a warmth overtook her, and for a moment, she could pretend. This wasn’t a brief foray into intimacy, and it wasn’t just her who had gotten attached.

He let her have her moment. His expression still achingly soft, he shifted forward to kiss her again. It was all the soft motion of his mouth on hers and the heat of his body against her skin.

And then it was more. As he licked into her mouth, he danced his fingertips across her abdomen, lower and lower. Each pass had the restless feeling inside her growing, and she shifted, trying to curve into his touch. She ran her hand up and down his arm, wanting to coax him and not wanting to ask.

When he finally slipped his fingers into the swelter of her sex, she whined, and he smiled, and she wanted to smack him or kiss him or . . . or more.

She panted against the soft roll of pleasure he wrung from her. “I thought we were going to . . .”

“We are.” He shifted to kiss the corner of her lips, her chin, her jaw. “But not until you’re dying for it. Gonna make you so wet for it, Kate.” His swallow and his breath against her ear made her pulse. “And then. Only then, when you’re ready to scream. When you’re slick all down your thighs. That’s when I’ll know you’re ready.” He scraped his teeth against her lobe. Pressed the searing flesh of his own desire to her hip, and she shuddered. “Not a moment before that.”

She closed her eyes against the feeling.

No wonder no other man had ever succeeded in making her come. None of them had ever approached it like this. Like a privilege and a job, and something they’d achieve if it were the last thing they ever managed to do.