He planned to make her enjoy it, too. It would mean nothing to him if she didn’t.
When her blouse was finally opened, he tugged it down her shoulders and tossed it on the floor, then gazed his fill at her. She stood proudly, almost as if daring him to comment on her gently rounded body, her stomach starting to curve outward. Her slacks had elastic panels at the waist—no doubt for the growing baby—and he saw a few darker stretch marks peeking out from under them.
She was lovely, though. Her skin was a delicate shade between bronze and umber, and paler on her belly than her face. He found that fascinating, just like the tiny beauty mark on one shoulder that peeked between the cascading locks of her dark hair. He circled around her, wanting to drink in the sight of her in her bra. Her back was mostly hidden by that waterfall of thick hair, and he grabbed a handful of it and pulled it gently over her shoulder, exposing the back of her delicate neck and the lines of her spine. “God, you’re pretty.”
He hadn’t realized she was holding herself rigid until she seemed to visibly soften. He guessed Greer didn’t get a lot of compliments, and resolved in that moment to make sure she always felt beautiful around him. He leaned in and gently kissed that dainty mole on her shoulder. She shivered, and he continued to kiss his way across her shoulders, pressing his lips against her skin over and over again. When he got to her nape, he dragged her thick hair into his hand again and held it up as he leaned in and kissed the back of her neck.
A full-on tremor rocked through her.
“I do believe you have a sensitive neck, Greer,” he murmured, and touched his tongue to her skin.
“I . . . guess I do.” Her breathing had quickened.
“I like that.” He kissed it again, then began to move his way forward, licking and sucking at the side of her neck. His arm went around her waist and he pulled her back against him, and she fit just perfectly there tucked against his front. It was as if she were made for him, and this way, he could make love to her neck as much as he wanted. “Tilt your head for me, sweetheart.”
She did, and he nipped at her luscious skin, then tongued the spot. Her body shuddered against him, and he couldn’t resist reaching up and cupping one of her breasts. A little moan escaped her then, and he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hard nipple, toying with it over and over again. Fuck, she was so sexy it was making him wild. He wanted to drive her insane with lust. He wanted to show her that he could give her pleasure, so that when she looked at him, she quivered with need instead of just giving him that endlessly patient look.
Her head tilted back until she was pressing against him, and then she arched her back, the motion thrusting her breast against his hand. “You like it when I touch you?” He murmured, gently pinching her nipple through the fabric. A wordless little moan was her response. He could tell she liked it, though. Greer’s signals—subtle though they were—told him everything. It was in the way she wriggled against him, the way her breathing quickened, and the soft sounds she made instead of saying yes, more.
She didn’t have to ask; he’d gladly give her more. Asher’s hand slid away from her breast—though he didn’t miss the gentle noise of protest she made in her throat—and moved to the waistband of her sensible slacks. “You’re quiet, but I think you do like it when I touch you, don’t you, Greer? You like my hands on you?”
And he slipped his fingers into the waistband.
He could feel her suck in a breath, felt her body tense against his. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her neck a bit more, so he could continue to kiss it. Oh, he’d do that all right. He’d do that and more. He pushed a bit further, hand moving into her panties. There were the curls shielding her sex, and then he touched her folds.
She was soaking wet.
Asher groaned. “Fuck, you’re so damn wet, Greer. You like it when I touch you?”
Her shuddering breath was the only response he got.
That was all right. He’d make her respond, wouldn’t he? He knew how to touch her to make her body sing, and he’d show her that right now. His fingers slid over the wet seam of her pussy, gliding and stroking through her slick folds. His soft, sweet Greer. Touching her was paradise. He could stay here for hours and just let his fingers play over her body, endlessly teasing her.
But he wanted to do more. He wanted to give her more than just teasing. He pushed his fingers a little deeper and sought out her clit. The tiny bud was stiff, and her entire body jerked against his when he grazed it.
She moaned and reached backward, her hand going to the back of his neck, her other moving to press over his hand.
He paused—was she going to make him stop? But instead of pulling his hand away from her, she pressed his fingers back against her clit, encouraging him. Guiding him.
Fuck, that was hot. Asher groaned and rocked his aching cock against her backside. He pressed a finger against her clit and then tapped it, testing her responses. He noticed that her body grew tense against his when he circled her clit with a slow, wet fingertip, and that her fingers tightened against him when he did. He switched to circling strokes over and over again, and felt each little shock as it ran through her body. “Can’t wait to bury my face here,” he breathed into her ear and then nipped it. “You’re going to coat my face with your juices, aren’t you?”
Her entire body shuddered against him and she gave a small, wordless cry, her eyes squeezing shut. Had she come already? That was damn sexy. He wondered how many times he could make her come in one session of lovemaking.