Anne's breath caught in her throat as he stood again.
His hands brushed her arm up, fingertips soft as silk, making her shudder. For a moment, he said nothing, just searched her eyes — his gaze tender, serious, asking for a silent permission.
"You…Are you sure about this?" he asked hesitantly, fearing she would push him away or worse, she would run away from him.
Anne pursed her lips and then nodded. "I am sure," she whispered. "I want this. I want you."
That was all it took.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking across her skin. Then he kissed her — slow, unhurried. Her lips parted slightly, welcoming him, and he deepened the kiss, just a bit, just enough to make her knees weaken.
He carried her to the bed, not rushed, never careless.
