She runs her hands up my chest and around to the back of my neck, pulling me down, and we kiss. We kiss in a way that’s different than all the times before. I can’t explain it, but it takes over me, holding a new level of passion. I press her firmly to me, tasting the mint that still lingers in her mouth.

Lifting her back off the bed, I sit her up and watch her as she removes her top. I get caught up in her and press her back down onto the bed, situating my hips between her legs. She’s so warm against me, and my chest begins to tighten with the effect this girl has on me.

I never gave my heart to anyone before. I never wanted to. I was scared. But maybe I was just saving it for her. And now, I want to give this girl more than my heart. I want to give her everything.

Realizing that I’m getting too carried away with myself, I pull back, nearly panting, “We should stop,” as I rest my forehead on her sternum.

She runs her hands through my hair, whispering, “Don’t.”

Her words are unexpected, so I pull up to look over her face, to try and read what she’s thinking.

“Babe,” I breathe out, heavy.

She looks me straight in the eyes and tells me, “I don’t want you to stop.”

“I need you to talk to me,” I respond with nerves coursing through me, unsure of what to do here.

“I don’t want to stop tonight.”

Fear. That’s what comes over me when I hear her words. Closing my eyes, I drop my head to hers. My heart is racing when I urge, “Please tell me this is okay,” because the thought of this scares me.

She nods her head against mine, but it isn’t enough. “I need to hear you say it, babe.”

I finally open my eyes when she cups my face and assures me, “It’s okay. I want this, with you, I just . . . I don’t know if I can.”

But suddenly, I don’t know if I can. I want to. I’ve wanted to since I met her, but now . . . now I’m afraid, and I don’t know what to do with her. I’m not sure if she sees my panic when she takes my hand in hers and places it over her breast, urging quietly, “Just touch me.”

Her hand trembles against mine, and if this does happen, I can’t have her feeling like this. So I do everything I can to push my anxiety away to focus on making sure she’s relaxed. She’s been taken advantage of by the two people before me, and I want to make this perfect for her.

I lower myself and kiss her. I take my time and really kiss her. Pressing my lips slowly into hers, grazing my tongue along her lip, and sealing my mouth with hers. My hand slides up from her breast and underneath the strap on her shoulder. As I move my hand down her arm, I take the strap with it, slipping it off, feeling the tension in the elastic releasing.

She’s never let me see her naked. The closest, a bra and my boxers. So when I begin to reach around her, my anticipation is overwhelming. But then, in a moment, she nervously mutters, “I’m scared. I’ve never . . .”

“It’s just you and me,” I tell her. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”

She faintly nods, and when I unclasp the hooks behind her back, she crosses her arm over her chest. Laying my hand over hers, I lift it up and drop her bra to the floor. I look at her. I’ve always wanted to but she’s always been too shy. Then my eyes stop on a serrated, crescent scar on her left breast, and what I think it might be is confirmed when she shamefully bares, “He bit me.”

I won’t let that piece of shit filter into this moment. She’s embarrassed, and there’s no fuckin’ way I’m gonna let that bastard claim another piece of her. Even with this scar, he can’t take away from how gorgeous she is.

Leaning down, I kiss her scar and breathe into her skin, “God, you’re perfect.”

I take my kisses and drop them down her stomach before sitting back on my heels to remind her that she isn’t alone. I bring her hand to my ribs and over my scar. We don’t speak. There’s no need. She gets it when she brushes her thumb across the jagged line and then pulls me down to her, hands trussed in my hair.

The feel of her naked body against my chest is gratifying beyond words. With no barriers, I run my tongue up the smooth skin of her breast and slowly across her pert nipple before taking her into my mouth. The pressure of her fingertips pressing into my shoulders strengthens when my hands find themselves at the band of her shorts. She lifts her hips when I begin to remove her boxers and panties at the same time. God, every inch of her is stunning, and I suddenly feel undeserving to have this girl who is far above what I could have ever imagined for myself.

She watches as I slip off my pants and then lower myself back to her, grabbing the sheets and covering us up. I lie here naked with her and have never felt so connected. She’s warm against me, but as I trail my hands slowly along her soft skin, I can feel her trembling.

“Babe, you’re shaking.”

“What if I can’t do this?” she says with an uneven voice, worry etched in the lines of her face.

“Then we stop.”

Her eyes fall shut, and I assure her, “We’ll move as slow as you need. You just tell me when to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she says, opening her eyes.

She slides her arms around me and draws my body back to hers as she kisses me, caressing her lips with mine, taking her time as she runs her hands along my chest and down my abdomen, making my muscles cinch at the touch. Her lips drag along my neck and down my shoulder while I gently knead her supple breast in my hand and kiss her exposed neck. When my mouth finds her hardened nipple again, I roll my tongue over it and begin to gently suck, her body writhing in response.

“Ryan.” The sound of my name on her lips is sexy as hell, and I need her to tell me again before we move any further, so I ask, “You sure?”

“Yes.”

My anxiety is back. The rush of emotions swarms in my chest as I try to stay calm for her, but I just need to hear it. “Tell me that you want this, that you want me.”

“I want you to make love to me,” she says with her eyes pinned to mine.

I take a moment to slip on protection before I reach down and slowly begin to guide myself inside of her, but as soon as I touch her, she locks up on me. Pulling myself back, I look down to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“Are you okay?”

Holding on to my shoulders, she nods. “Yeah.”

I’ve never been so scared to have sex, but I know with her, that’s not what this is. I’ve never been with a woman like this before. I know I’m gonna make love with her, and I want to do everything possible to make this perfect. ‘Cause for the first time in my life, this isn’t about me—it’s about her. So when I continue to push myself inside of her, I can feel every bit of how tense she is. It takes me a while, but when I’m finally inside of her, the feeling is almost too much for me. My head drops to her neck as I moan, “Fuck, you feel so good, babe,” unable to keep it in.

I hold myself still while her thighs tremble as she clenches them against my hips. I wrap my hands around her head and give her time to relax. When I pull my head back, I immediately feel like shit when I see her eyes clamped shut with tears falling down her temples.

“Open your eyes, Candace. Look at me,” I tell her, concerned about what she’s seeing if she isn’t seeing me.

“Don’t make me look,” she pleads, but I need her to. I need her to not be scared of this. To not let her mind drift to that alley. To show her that this can be something amazing.

“Baby, please open your eyes. I need you here with me. It’s only me.”

It takes her a second, but she eventually opens them and focuses on me. When I feel her body soften against mine, I gradually begin to move. Being this close with her—inside of her—I never want this to end. I can’t even imagine wanting to be selfish with her, so I move slowly, needing this closeness to last. To make her see this for what it is—love.