Anna gasped when Daniel deliberately brushed over her folds, the sensation scattering her thoughts into a haze. But the second she caught the sharp, almost desperate intensity in his eyes, her resolve hardened.
Her grip on him tightened, and she began to stroke him slowly at first. Her breaths turned uneven, shallow. When she noticed the way Daniel's jaw clenched, his lips parting as if he was barely holding back a groan, she quickened her pace.
For Anna, it was a way to ease the tension she felt coiled inside him.
For Daniel, it was an anchor—a silent reassurance that she wasn't going anywhere.
The fear hadn't vanished. It lingered, buried deep, gnawing at him.
"Tell me you love me," he breathed against her lips, stealing a kiss as if he needed it to survive. His fingers continued their rhythm, pressing deeper, more insistently, until her breath hitched and a soft moan slipped past her lips.
"I love you," Anna answered without hesitation.
Something in him snapped.
