5. Cora
Cora
Something changes in Lance’s face.
The control remains. It is part of him, built into every hard line of his body and every measured breath.
But hunger burns through it now.
Hunger for me.
“Say it again,” he says.
His voice moves over my skin like rough velvet.
“I want you.”
His mouth covers mine.
The kiss is deeper than before. Hungrier. One hand slides into my hair while the other closes firmly around my waist, holding me against him as though he has spent too long forcing himself not to.
I have never been kissed like this.
Like every breath matters.
Like every small sound I make belongs to him.
Like I am something he has wanted for years and has finally stopped denying himself.
His tongue strokes mine, and heat rolls through me so quickly my knees weaken.
Lance feels it.
His arm tightens around me, keeping me upright without breaking the kiss.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my lips.
The same words he gave me in the fire.
They mean something different now.
They still make me believe him.
He lifts me from the floor.
I wrap my legs around his waist without thinking, my dress gathering around my thighs.
A groan tears from his chest.
The sound sends a rush of heat between my legs.
His forehead presses briefly to mine. His breathing is no steadier than my own.
“Bedroom.”
It is the only word he gives me before carrying me down the hall.
His hands stay firm beneath me. His heartbeat pounds against my chest. Every step feels like another choice, and he gives me time to stop him.
I do not.
The bedroom is still scattered with pieces of me.
The sweatshirt I borrowed is folded over the chair. The cracked frame Jordan pulled from the apartment rests against the dresser, Grandma still smiling through the broken glass. Her journal sits on the nightstand beside the spare key tied with green ribbon.
I have been here less than two days.
Somehow, I am already everywhere.
Lance sets me carefully on my feet beside the bed.
His hands remain on my hips.
“Last chance to send me to the couch.”
His voice is rough, but his grip is gentle.
“Do you want to go?”
“Hell no.”
“Then stay.”
Something fierce and almost relieved passes through his eyes.
He kisses me again.
His fingers find the buttons of my dress. He opens the first one, exposing the hollow of my throat.
Then he stops.
“You do this.”
I blink up at him.
His thumb moves once over my waist.
“I need to know you want every step.”
My heart squeezes so hard it almost hurts.
No one has ever asked what I wanted and waited for the answer.
I unfasten the next button.
Then another.
Lance watches my hands.
His chest rises beneath his shirt. His jaw is tight, and the intensity in his eyes makes me feel beautiful before he has seen anything.
The dress loosens.
I slide it from my shoulders.
The fabric falls around my ankles, leaving me in a pale blue bra and matching cotton panties.
Every cruel word my ex ever said rushes back.
Too soft.
Too wide.
Too much.
The laughter that followed.
The way I learned to fold my arms across my stomach before anyone had the chance to look too closely.
My hands begin to move.
Lance catches my wrists.
His grip is careful.
“Don’t hide from me.”
“I’m trying.”
His expression softens.
The hunger does not disappear. Something deeper settles beside it.
“Let me show you what I see.”
He lifts one of my hands and presses his mouth to the inside of my wrist.
Then he lowers his lips to my shoulder.
One kiss.
Another.
He follows the strap of my bra, his stubble scraping lightly over my skin.
My breath shakes.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs.
His mouth moves to the swell above my bra.
“Soft.”
His hands spread across my waist.
“Perfect.”
No one has ever said those words like facts.
No hesitation. No pity. No attempt to convince me.
Lance believes them.
My eyes burn.
“Cora.”
He lifts his head.
“Stay with me.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
His fingers find the clasp at my back.
He waits.
I nod.
The clasp opens.
The straps slide slowly down my arms. Cool air touches my bare breasts.
The urge to cover myself rises again.
I keep my arms at my sides.
Lance looks at me.
His hazel eyes darken.
“Jesus.”
The rough awe in his voice sends a shiver through me.
He cups my breasts in both hands.
His palms are warm and broad. His thumbs brush over my nipples, and they tighten beneath the touch.
I gasp.
“Sensitive?”
“Yes.”
His eyes stay on my face.
“Good.”
He lowers his mouth and draws one nipple between his lips.
Pleasure strikes hard enough to make my knees weaken.
My hands land on his shoulders.
He catches me around the waist, holding me steady while his tongue circles slowly.
He sucks gently at first, then firmer when my back arches and I press closer.
“Lance.”
He hums against me.
The vibration shoots through my body and settles low in my stomach.
His mouth moves to my other breast. One hand kneads the curve he left behind, his thumb continuing to tease the wet, aching peak.
I stop thinking about how I look.
I stop remembering every insult that taught me to hate the space my body takes up.
I only feel.
His mouth.
His hands.
The hard line of his body pressed against mine.
The way he touches me as though softness is something he has been starving for.
When he lifts his head, both nipples are wet and aching.
His gaze searches mine.
“Still want me?”
“More.”
His jaw flexes.
Lance lifts me onto the bed. He removes his shirt before following.
I have seen him in fitted T-shirts. I knew he was muscular.
I was unprepared for the reality of him.
His chest is broad and covered with dark hair. Defined muscle pulls across his stomach. An old tattoo curves over his left shoulder. Scars mark his arms and ribs, pale against warm skin.
He is rough and beautiful.
Strong enough to carry me through fire.
Gentle enough to ask before touching me.
“You’re staring,” he says.
“You stared first.”
“Still staring.”
I smile.
He kneels over me and kisses the smile from my mouth.
His hand travels down my side, moving slowly over my waist and stomach.
I tense when his palm covers the soft curve beneath my navel.
He notices.
His mouth leaves mine.
“This.”
He presses a kiss beside his hand.
“I like this.”
His lips move to my hip.
“These curves.”
Another kiss, lower this time.
“These thighs.”
He kisses the inside of one.
My whole body trembles.
His fingers hook beneath the waistband of my panties.
His eyes lift to mine.
“Can I take these off?”
“Yes.”
He draws them slowly down my legs.
Being bare before him should terrify me.
Instead, Lance looks at me as though I have trusted him with something sacred.
His hand slides over my knee.
“Open for me, sweetheart.”
I part my legs.
His gaze lowers between them.
A low sound leaves his chest.
“You’re so fucking pretty.”
Heat floods my face.
No one has ever looked at me like this.
Like there is nowhere else he would rather be.
Lance settles between my thighs and kisses my hip, then the crease where my leg meets my body.
His breath touches the most intimate part of me.
“Lance.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will.”
His tongue slides through me.
I cry out.
The first stroke is hot and broad. The second finds the place that makes my hips lift from the bed.
Lance hooks one arm over my waist and holds me steady.
He takes his time.
He learns me.
Long strokes that make my stomach tighten. Short flicks over my clit that pull helpless sounds from my throat. His lips close around the sensitive bud and suck.
Pleasure rolls through me.
I grab the sheets.
His name leaves me again.
He pauses only long enough to look up.
“Eyes on me.”
The command sends another pulse through my body.
I force my eyes open.
His gaze meets mine from between my thighs.
The sight nearly tips me over the edge.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let me see you.”
One finger circles my entrance.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
He slides it inside.
The stretch is unfamiliar. Then his finger curls deep, finding a place that makes my entire body jerk.
“There?”
“Yes.” My voice breaks. “Please.”
He does it again.
His mouth returns to my clit while his finger moves inside me. He adds a second only after my body relaxes around the first, filling me with gentle strokes.
The pressure builds too fast.
My thighs shake around his shoulders.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
His tongue circles harder.
His eyes stay on mine.
“Come for me, Cora.”
The command breaks me.
Pleasure crashes through my body.
My back arches. His name tears from my throat while I pulse around his fingers.
Lance keeps his mouth on me, drawing out every trembling wave until I push weakly at his shoulder.
He rises over me.
His mouth shines.
I should be embarrassed.
Instead, I pull him down and kiss him.
He groans when I taste myself on his tongue.
The sound makes something reckless bloom inside me.
His hard length presses against my thigh through his jeans.
The size of him sends a nervous flutter through my stomach.
Lance feels me tense.
He pulls back immediately.
“Talk to me.”
My face burns.
“I’ve never done this.”
His brow furrows.
“Any of it,” I add. “I’m a virgin.”
He goes still.
For one terrible second, I think I have ruined everything.
Then his hand cups my cheek.
“Why are you looking at me like I might be angry?”
“It’s a lot.”
“It’s yours.”
His thumb brushes beneath my eye.
“Your body. Your choice. You give it when you’re ready.”
“I choose you.”
The words change him.
Possessive heat flashes across his face, followed by something tender enough to hurt.
His forehead settles against mine.
“You almost died two days ago. You still have smoke in your lungs. Your hip is bruised.”
“I feel alive.”
“Cora.”
“I spent years waiting to feel good enough to want anything.”
My fingers trace the line of his jaw.
“The fire made that seem stupid. I don’t want to keep waiting because someone else taught me I should be ashamed.”
His eyes close briefly.
“I want my first time to be with the man who makes me feel safe enough to ask.”
His forehead presses harder to mine.
When he speaks, his voice is quieter.
“You trust me that much?”
“Yes.”
His eyes open.
There is no uncertainty in them now.
Only hunger.
Protection.
And something that feels dangerously close to love.
“You’re sure?”
“I have never been more sure of anything.”
“Then I take care of you.”
The promise settles inside me.
I touch his face.
“I want all of you, Lance.”
His eyes burn into mine.
“You have me.”