Annabelle's fingers trembled only a little as they drifted downward, brushing first over the taut plane of his stomach, then lower still. The fabric of his trousers had already been loosened, pushed aside just enough.
When her palm finally met the warm, hard length of him, she paused, breath catching at the velvet heat beneath her touch.
Adrian went very still beneath her.
She wrapped her fingers slowly around him, exploratory, almost careful. The skin was smooth and fever-hot; she could feel the steady throb of his pulse against her palm.
Her movements were hesitant at first, a gentle glide upward, then down again, learning the shape of him, the way he thickened further under her uncertain strokes.
He exhaled through his nose, a soft, controlled sound. One hand came up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her hair, his eyes half-lided
"Go on, don't be hesitant," he murmured, voice low and thick with something tender.
