Page 31 of Wild Heart

Now, she was going to give this to me. She was going to be mine, and only mine.

Something else took over inside me. “I’ll go slow, Ava. I won’t hurt you.”

Softness filtered into her expression. “I know that. Why do you think I waited for you? I’ve always wanted you to have this, to be the one to give this to me.”

I wasn’t quite sure I deserved this gift she was giving me after having denied her for so many years. Despite that, there wasn’t a chance I could walk away from her now. Not when she was looking at me the way she was, not after she’d said what she just did, and certainly not after I’d just barely gotten a taste of her.

Ava was mine now. And I didn’t think I’d ever let her go.

“You’re so beautiful,” I told her for the second time. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Tate, please,” she begged.

Recognizing she wasn’t interested in me taking the time to digest this precious gift she was giving me, I positioned myselfonce again, brought my eyes to hers, and said, “If you need me to stop?—”

“I won’t. This is yours, Tate. Please take it.”

Something squeezed at the center of my chest. If it hadn’t been for the sense of urgency Ava seemed to have with this, I might have held back a bit longer just to fully commit that feeling to memory.

But since I knew she wasn’t interested in waiting any longer, I pushed forward. I went slow, watching her expression for any signs of pain or discomfort. I hadn’t gotten quite halfway when I stopped and pulled back before sinking in slowly again, going just a bit farther the second time. I did that over and over, my eyes never leaving her face, until I’d finally given her all of me.

I stayed there, planted to the root, and gave her time to adjust. “Are you okay?”

She brushed her lips lightly against mine. “I’m perfect.”

“Do you want me to move?”

Her chin tipped down. “Yes.”

With nowhere to be and the whole night ahead of us, I moved. But I took my time. I drew my hips back and pushed them forward with a slow, steady pace. I kissed her, touched her, and moved with her.

Despite having no experience, Ava learned quickly. Maybe it came naturally, maybe it was instinct. It could have just been her awareness of her body after years of dance that made it possible. Whatever it was, she was perfection.

And what I loved most was that she seemed to be on the precise wavelength as me. She was content for us to take our time, to savor one another. We touched, we rolled, our limbs and mouths tangling, colliding—joining.

It was a slow, steady burn between us, and it was easily the best experience of my life. We climbed that mountain, higher and higher, one touch, one kiss, one stroke at a time. And whenwe had finally reached the peak, I tore my mouth away, pinned my stare on her, and watched her as I pushed her over just a few slow thrusts before I went over after her.

I worked us both through to the end, feeling a connection to Ava like nobody else. And when we made it to the other side, I kissed her possessively.

“That was beautiful,” she whispered.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Tears had filled her eyes as she shook her head. “Not at all. You were so gentle, Tate.”

I kissed her again, this one much softer. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing?”

Smiling against her lips, I said, “I’m going to take care of you. Just stay put.”

Whether she knew what I was planning to do or not, I didn’t know. But I gave her one more kiss before I exited the bed and moved to the bathroom.

After cleaning myself up and doing the same for Ava—something that seemed to bring out her rarely seen shy side—I slid beneath the blanket with her and pulled her close.

For a while, neither one of us said a word. We both seemed content to simply hold each other, to stroke our fingertips over each other’s skin.

And we kissed. That was the one thing we couldn’t seem to stop doing.