Page 199 of Operation: Defiance

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation. “But only if you’re ready. If you’re doing this because you want to.”

“I want to.” Then, because my body has betrayed me so often since they took me, I add, “I want to try. I might have to stop.”

“Then we stop.” He cups my cheek, his fingertips barely grazing the curve of my jaw, leans in, but lets me close the last of the space between us for a tender kiss. “Give me a minute?” he asks.

I nod, releasing him, and he moves to the sleek, black dresser in the corner and pulls open the top drawer. When he turns back, he has a condom clutched in his hand.

His steps aren’t steady, the pajama pants straining over his need.

I pull back the blankets, and he settles next to me. Placing the condom on the pillow, he waits. His breathing is quicker now. His muscles tight, like holding himself still is work.

“I want you to touch me. I want to feel you. All of you.” The words are easier now, each one unlocking something in me I didn’t know existed. “But I need you to tell me what you’re doing. And when.”

“Always.” The care in his voice does more than any kiss, though I might be able to kiss him for an hour and still want more.

His hand hovers an inch from my waist. “Here?”

“Yes.” He’s seen me naked. Cataloged my injuries. Mapped them. He avoids every bruise as he guides me closer.

“Can I help you out of your nightshirt?” His lips trail down the shell of my ear. I shiver, then angle my head so he can kiss the curve of my neck, just above the spot the hood ties rubbed raw.

“Carefully,” I manage. “My shoulder is still…sore.”

Easing back, he gathers the soft material in his hands and lifts. “Over your face for a second.”

His warning gives me time to breathe. When my heart wants to beat out of my chest as the light fades away, he murmurs, “I’ve got you, Raine.” And I believe him.

The room rushes back in, light and heat and Asher all at once.

My skin prickles, my nipples tightening to hard, aching nubs. Asher’s hands still a breath away from my hips, giving me the chance to say no. To redirect. To stop or pause or move forward however I need.

I nod, and he curls them around my waist. The contact sends a slow, molten pulse of desire down the center of my body.

Leaning in, his forehead touching mine, he takes a halting breath. “I want you, Raine. Not just your body.” His thumb traces a small arc over my hip. “You. The way you think. The way you see patterns where everyone else sees noise. The way you fight when giving up would be so much easier.”

His voice roughens, something more than arousal in his tone now. “Here…this is where I’m supposed to be. This has always been where I’m supposed to be.”

Something tight in my chest loosens. I let my fingers skim his cheek, the stubble rough and grounding. “You don’t ask me to be anyone other than…me.”

The next kiss is slower. Deeper. Filled with all the things I don’t know how to say.

I’ve never understood desire. Not truly. Sex is physical. Predictable. My body doing what bodies are supposed to do when certain conditions are met. This…is different.

This is gravity turning me inside out. My pulse hammers against my temples. My skin is almost burning. I file those sensations away like all the others—his lips on mine, the way he’s still tracing the curve of my hip, the little zings as his stubble catches my chin.

Asher doesn’t ask me to smooth my rough edges. I don’t manage myself around him. I simply…exist the way I’m supposed to be.

It cracks something open deep inside me—something raw and unguarded. Permission, maybe. To want this. To want him. On my terms.

I pull back just enough to look at him. Really look. The way his pupils have blown wide, the way his chest stutters with each breath—a little uneven but still controlled, like he’s holding on just for me.

My pulse is loud in my ears, but the wanting underneath is so very clear, it cuts through everything else.

“Take off your pants.” My voice breaks, but I don’t regret the words. “I want to see you. All of you.”

For a split second, what might be disbelief flickers across his face. Just as quickly, it’s replaced by heat, and something dangerously close to reverence.

He nods, but then pauses with his fingers curled around his waistband, and looks at me. Checking. Making sure I haven’t changed my mind.