She gave him a quick nod and tilted her head back, waiting patiently for more kisses. Her hand on his bicep had curled into the fabric of his shirt, as if she had to hold on to him. He loved that.
Asher leaned in and put his hand to her chin, tilting her face as he gently kissed her cheekbones, her nose, her forehead, her jaw—everywhere on her face that he thought she might like a kiss. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she seemed to lean in to his touch. Her mouth was soft and inviting, slightly parted and just begging for his lips, but he forced himself not to move too fast.
“How am I doing?” he asked as he gently nipped at her jaw.
She shivered against him again, and he felt her fingers flex against his shirt. “I think this is . . . good.” She sounded distracted, distant. Her other hand went to his knee, as if trying to pull him closer.
Just good? He’d have to do better. Pressing his lips to the curve of her cheek, he moved toward her ear. “What about over here?”
“You want to kiss my ears?”
“Sure.” They were as pretty and delicate as the rest of her. His hand went to her ear and gently caressed the shell of one. “Unless you think it’d be a bad idea.”
“No, go ahead,” she breathed. A quick glance down told him that she was panting lightly, her breasts heaving under the silk blouse, nipples pointing. Christ, she was beautiful.
His hand went to the nape of her neck to hold her, and he leaned in and gently took one earlobe between his teeth, nipping it.
She audibly sucked in a breath.
He should have teased her a bit more. Asked her if she still liked it. But all the teasing in him had been forgotten. Instead, he gently flicked his tongue against her earlobe and then sucked on it, running his tongue over that tiny bit of sensitive flesh.
And she moaned.
Fuck, that was sexy. Asher swallowed his own moan and continued to make love to her sweet ear, tonguing and licking her lobe and lavishing it with attention. Her nails dug into his arm, but she was drawing him closer. Her hand went to his hair and she clung to him, holding him there.
Holding him to her ear so he could tongue-fuck it.
Sexiest thing ever.
He pulled back, though, because he wanted to wait and see how she’d respond if he stopped.
She whimpered and pulled him forward, her hands demanding. She wanted this. Wanted his mouth on her.
That was all the encouragement Asher needed. He returned to making love to her ear, tonguing and licking and nipping to see which motions got the most results from her. She loved when his tongue traced the shell, but she also quivered against him when he bit down gently on her earlobe. Hell, she loved all of it, and he wanted to hold her and perform this sweet torture on her for hours.
But he wanted more. He wanted to claim her soft, sweet mouth. To feel her open up against him and press her tongue to his. To lick at her mouth the way he was licking at her earlobe. To drive her wild with his kisses. To prove to her that he could arouse her. Asher pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “I want your mouth.”
Her lips parted. Her eyes were glazed with need and soft with arousal, and fuck, she was gorgeous.
“Give it to me, Greer.” Asher leaned in, closing the distance, until his mouth was close enough to hers to kiss . . . but just far enough away. He wanted her to seal the deal.
Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his mouth, as if trying to make up her mind . . . or simply trying to think with a brain drugged from his caresses. Did she need encouraging, then? He brushed a thumb over her full lower lip, then pressed it down in the center, parting her mouth just a bit more.
She leaned in, and then she was his.
Their lips met, hers barely brushing against his mouth. It was enough. She was crossing the distance between them, and he’d take it from here. Asher nipped at her lower lip, pressing gentle, soft kisses there. Greer was motionless against him, making soft little noises in her throat with each brush of his lips against hers. Did she think he was a terrible kisser? All tongue and no finesse? He’d show her just how careful and patient he could be, and everything he could do with his lips. So he continued to press light, sweet kisses to her mouth, over and over again, coaxing her to part her mouth against his. He was desperate to brush his tongue against hers and see how it’d be received, but he was a patient man. He could wait.
So he kissed her, over and over again. Quick kisses. Slow kisses. Brushes of his lips against hers. Fierce nips and coaxing caresses. With each one, Greer seemed to melt in his arms a bit more. And with each press of his mouth to hers, Asher’s body ached for release. The need to claim her as his own was staggeringly strong.
When her tongue meekly brushed against his, Asher’s control nearly came undone. With a groan, he gave up on holding back and kissed her as hard and fierce as he’d wanted to. His tongue slicked into her mouth and he took over, tasting her sweetness over and over again.
There was no turning back for him now. Any thought of giving up on Greer and moving on with his life? Utterly vanished. She was his. This sweet, giving mouth? His. This timid, eager tongue? His. The passionate woman in his arms? All his. With every coaxing flick of his tongue, he was letting her know that she belonged to him.
When she was gasping for air and making small, mewing sounds in her throat, he gave her one last fierce thrust of his tongue and then released her. His hands remained on her cheeks, cupping her face. It would force her to make eye contact with him, and he wanted to see the look in her eyes.
There it was, he thought with fierce satisfaction as she gazed up at him through her lashes. The need in her dark eyes making them liquid with desire. The softness in her gaze as she looked at his mouth and then back up at him, as if asking for more without saying it aloud. And God, that dazed, needy expression in her eyes? That was almost as good as fucking. Almost.