Not without being stretched far beyond anything her husband had ever given her.
And yet…
Kristine wanted it.
Ross crawled onto the bed, his hands parting her thighs again.
He positioned himself between them, not rushing, savoring the look in her eyes—the mix of need, nervousness, and raw desire.
"You're ready," he said, voice low and rough with hunger. "You'll be begging for me soon enough, Kristine."
Kristine didn't argue. She only nodded, her breath shaky, her body aching for more.
And so, Ross prepared to claim her fully—for the first time, but far from the last.
Kristine didn't move. She didn't push him away. She didn't even flinch.
She simply looked up at Ross, her eyes wide with a storm of emotion—guilt, fear, anticipation—and then, almost as if giving in to something inevitable, she closed them.
Her long lashes trembled, her lips parted, and she took a shaky breath, bracing herself.
In that moment, she surrendered.
