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stomach.
    The need to taste her had me frenzied, and I brushed my lips across her mound and breathed deep, the rasp of her crisp pubic hair against my lips and her sweet scent filling my nostrils, intensifying my already fevered passion.
    My cock throbbed with need, my thigh wet with precum, but I ignored it and instead focused on Fawn. I pushed her thighs open and stared at her wet sex, the glistening flesh calling me. But I didn’t give in to the call and looked up to meet Fawn’s eyes. She met my gaze, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire but that shyness still there.
    I looked back to her pussy and she started to close her legs.
    “Be still,” I said, my voice gruff with command.
    She complied and I watched her longer, denying myself what I wanted, enjoying the anticipation before I would enjoy the act.
    Then I moved, pressing my face against her wetness, the sweet, musky scent and taste of her hitting me at once. I wanted to devour her, and I did my best to, licking and kissing and sucking her, trying to touch all of her at once. Her legs fell slack, Fawn opening herself to me, and she bucked against me.
    I threw an arm across her waist to hold her in place, smiling at her frustrated sigh when she realized she couldn’t move. That frustration only increased when I started to tease her clit, licking the hard little nub and then backing off right when Fawn was on the edge. I dropped lower and circled her opening with my tongue once, twice, and then again and again until Fawn cried out on a broken breath.
    She was soaking, and the evidence of her desire on my face only made me want more. So I pushed my tongue inside her, spreading her slick wet walls with my tongue and fucking her with my mouth like I soon would with my cock. Fawn thrashed beneath me and held my shoulders tight enough to sting. I welcomed the pain, welcomed any proof that this woman felt even a fraction of what I did.
    I thrust my tongue in and out of her harder, faster, and when I squeezed her clit between my fingers, she cried out and then came, the low, hoarse moans, the wetness that flowed ever faster telling me she had reached her peak.
    The first of many she would reach tonight on my tongue, my cock, my fingers. All of me was in service of her pleasure tonight. But it was selfish, really. Nothing had ever made me as happy as giving Fawn pleasure, so in pleasing her, I was pleasing myself.
    After a final kiss against her quivering sex, I moved up her body and kissed her, letting her taste herself on my lips. I stilled, keeping my lips against her skin, taking in her warmth, the feel of her body under mine, her heart pounding against her chest as my heart did against mine.
    When I finally pulled back, I stared down into her dark eyes.
    “I love you, Vasile,” she said.
    The words filled me with joy as they always did. So did the desire in her eyes. She loved me, she wanted me, but there was something else. I could see the shadows that I hated in her eyes, the ones I had sworn I would see vanquished forever.
    Whatever it was, I knew Fawn well enough to know that she wouldn’t speak about whatever bothered her unless I pushed.
    I gripped her neck and then traced my thumb along her cheek as I lowered my other hand between our bodies. I guided my cock into her wetness, pushing until there was not a millimeter of space between us.
    She panted out, as did I, when we were fully joined, but I ignored the need to thrust and held her gaze.
    “Tell me, Fawn,” I said.
    She thinned her lips and then broke my gaze. I didn’t loosen my hold, though. If I did, she’d brush it off, pretend whatever preoccupied her was nothing.
    I hated that, but I understood. She trusted me, loved me, but her past wasn’t so easy to shake off, and I knew that this kind of communication was difficult for her. So I’d stay patient, and maybe one day, she’d believe, really believe, that she could tell me anything without fear of anger or punishment.
    She met my eyes again.