Touch Me Slowly
Touch Me Slowly
Reyna's Pov
The air between us felt heavy, like it was made of something thicker than oxygen — something that wrapped around my chest and pulled me closer to him without ever needing to touch me. But when he did, when his fingers brushed my jaw and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, it felt like the world paused just for us.
I swallowed hard. “Draven…”
He didn’t answer right away. His thumb trailed gently down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth. “Say it again,” he said, voice low, almost reverent.
“Draven,” I whispered.
His eyes closed briefly, as if the sound itself unraveled him. When they opened again, something in them had changed — less restraint, more hunger. But still controlled. Always controlled.
“I’m trying not to scare you,” he said quietly, eyes searching mine. “But you have no idea what it takes for me to hold back.”
I leaned in, pressing my palm to his chest. His heart was beating fast, almost wild beneath my hand. “Then don’t.”
His breath hitched. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Maybe not everything,” I said. “But I want to learn. I want you.”
His hands gripped my waist like he was grounding himself. “There are parts of me I’ve buried for a long time. Things I don’t share easily.”
“Then share them slowly,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. “Let me see you.”
A beat of silence stretched between us, then he pulled me into his lap — gently, carefully — as if I were something fragile and precious, but the look in his eyes told me he was seconds from breaking. One hand cradled the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair, the other rested on my lower back, firm and warm.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, lips ghosting over my ear. “But you should know… when I finally let go, I won’t be gentle.”
The words made my pulse stutter, heat blooming low in my belly. Still, I didn’t pull away.
“I don’t want gentle,” I said, barely a whisper. “Not from you.”
His breath left him in a shudder. “Reyna…” My name sounded like both a prayer and a warning on his tongue.
His lips brushed mine — feather-light at first, as if asking for permission. I answered by leaning in, closing the distance. And when he finally kissed me, it was like fire meeting silk — slow, warm, consuming.
His eyes changed — darker now, full of something intense. Not anger, but hunger. Need. I saw it in the way his pupils grew wider, almost covering the golden parts of his eyes, and in how his jaw tightened like he was holding something back. For a second, I thought I saw the tips of his fangs, sharp and shining in the firelight. My heart skipped. He looked like temptation — beautiful in a way that didn’t feel real. The soft light made shadows dance across his cheekbones, his strong jaw, his perfect lips that had kissed me so deeply. His chest was bare, warm under my hand, muscles firm and smooth as he breathed hard, trying to stay calm. His hand touched my neck so gently, his thumb moving in slow circles, sending shivers down my spine. That one small touch made my whole body feel hot. I could feel he was holding himself back.
His eyes changed — darker now, full of something intense. Not anger, but hunger. Need. I saw it in the way his pupils grew wider, almost covering the golden parts of his eyes, and in how his jaw tightened like he was holding something back. For a second, I thought I saw the tips of his fangs, sharp and shining in the firelight. My heart skipped. He looked like temptation — beautiful in a way that didn’t feel real. The soft light made shadows dance across his cheekbones, his strong jaw, his perfect lips that had kissed me so deeply. His chest was bare, warm under my hand, muscles firm and smooth as he breathed hard, trying to stay calm. His hand touched my neck so gently, his thumb moving in slow circles, sending shivers down my spine. That one small touch made my whole body feel hot. I could feel he was holding himself back. And somehow… I didn’t want him to.
His tongue teased mine, tasting, savoring, while his hands slid lower, pressing me closer. But still, he held back — even in his need, he waited. Letting me set the pace.
I pulled back slightly, eyes half-lidded, lips tingling. “Draven…” I said again, voice soft. “Can you go further?”
He froze, eyes locked on mine, like something in him was unraveling
Draven didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on mine, searching, heavy with emotion I didn’t fully understand yet. Then, slowly, his hands slid to my hips, holding me in place as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple — soft, grounding. When he pulled back, his voice was lower, rougher, threaded with something deeper. “Before I go further…” he murmured, brushing his thumb along my jawline, “I need to show you something first. So you understand what this means — what I am, when I stop pretending to be gentle.” His gaze dropped to my lips, then returned to my eyes with quiet intensity. “This isn’t just about kissing you, Reyna. It’s not just hunger. If we cross this line… I can’t promise I’ll always be soft. There are parts of me I’ve spent years locking away, because the world called them too much.” He paused, his thumb still on my cheek, his grip possessive yet tender. “I need you to see it — not so I can scare you, but so you can choose. Because when I take you, it won’t be in pieces. It will be all of me.” The way he said it made my breath catch, my heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and something far more dangerous — the thrill of stepping into the unknown, with him. And though my body ached for more, I could feel it too — the weight of this moment, the gravity in his words, the depth of what he was offering.