Nightfall by Evelyn Glass

his eyes stayed fixed on her, and her expression. “What happens,” he asked, his voice light and careful, “When you close your eyes?”
     
    “What?”
     
    “When you close your eyes. Do you feel restful? Frightened? Panicked?”
     
    “I don’t know?”
     
    “Try it.”
     
    She was tempted to roll her eyes, but it seemed unkind. Instead, she closed them, and stared at the back of her eyelids for a moment. “Nothing,” she said, opening them again.
     
    He raised his eyebrows, giving her an expression that seemed nothing short of tolerant. “Close them again,” he said, and when she did, she felt his hand cover her eyes. The pressure was light, but she could feel the edges of his palm on her forehead and on the bridge of her nose.
     
    The shift in his weight was so delicate she almost didn’t notice it. The heat wrapping around her breast, however, was unmistakable. His mouth moved softly over her nipple, all teasing gentleness, and she found herself sighing again. There was a touch of irritation in her stomach—he wasn’t the first guy to try again once she’d told him she was done—but he truly seemed calm and at ease. And that was something. “How do you feel now?” he asked, as he moved from one side to the other.
     
    “Not afraid. Not restful.” She laughed, the sound tangled up in her throat with a sigh. “Somewhere in between.”
     
    “How do you want to feel?”
     
    It was such an obvious question, but she found she hadn’t thought about it. Not in a very long time. She took a moment to examine her body, her heart, the shivers that were running through her at the heat of his mouth as he taunted her through her silk blouse. “I want— I want to feel wild. I want to feel free.”
     
    “Do you push for it? When I was touching you before, when you were grinding into my thigh.” His words brought back the sensation, the flurry of hot need that had been surging through her core back in the other room, and her back arched, pressing her against him. “Did you feel like you had to hurry, you had to come before I got sick of waiting for you?”
     
    “Yes,” she sighed, even though she hadn’t known it until the whisper of sound escaped her lips.
     
    “Can I offer you a piece of advice?” he asked.
     
    “As long as you keep doing that to my nipples,” she sighed, shifting under him again, heat starting to climb through her body again. “You can offer me anything you want.”
     
    “Don’t reach. I’m not going to get tired of waiting. I love being with a woman who is enjoying herself. The longer you take, the more I get to touch you, the more I get to watch you, the more I get to enjoy you. There are no rules, no time limits.”
     
    “I have to get to work in the morning,” she said, hearing an edge of whimper slipping into her tone as she shifted against him again.
     
    “Other than that,” he amended. His hand left her face and he kissed her deeply, but there was no urgency, no push. She was free to float in the sensation, the wash of emotion and sensation that was splashing through her. It was more delicate than anything she’d ever felt before. More tenuous. But the slow and easy motion of his tongue over hers, tracing her lips, then moving along her jaw to tease at her earlobe, somehow told her that he was true to his word; he had no intention of stopping any time soon.
     
    “If you’d like,” he said as she twisted under him again, soaked with the waves of excitement that were washing over and through her. “We could move to the bedroom. It’s more comfortable. But if you’re more comfortable here—”
     
    “No,” she said. “That’s better. I want to stretch out under you.” This time her thigh came into contact with him, long and thick and hard in his jeans, and he groaned, his mouth locking onto hers with more force this time. Only for a moment, only briefly, but the intensity and unbridled lust in his kiss in that moment left her crying out,