Greer cried out, her eyes closing, a look of intense joy on her face.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He thrust into her again, going deep. He loved touching her, loved fucking her, loved the hot clasp of her body around his cock. “My Greer. My sweetheart.”
“Yours,” she breathed as he pounded into her. “Make me yours.”
He would. He surged into her over and over again, making sure to grind down against her with every thrust so he rubbed her clit. He adjusted his movements until he felt her quiver against him, felt her body tense against his when he bottomed out, and knew he was hitting the right spots. Then, he began to pound into her fiercely and relentlessly. She clawed at the pillow behind her head, keening, and then moved it forward to her mouth to bite it, a sure sign that she was about to come. He felt her pussy clench hard around him, contracting—
And then she cried out his name behind a mouthful of pillow, and he felt her body spasm, felt her milking his cock and drawing him tighter inside her. It was too much, too fast. With a hoarse shout, he came, emptying himself into her with hard, sure strokes. Lights danced behind his eyes from the intensity of his orgasm, and he was filled with fierce pleasure and an intense sense of rightness.
When he came to his senses, he grinned down at her. “I’m sorry that was so quick. I’ll do better next time.”
She shifted underneath him, her face adorably flushed, hair escaping from her tight braid. “I think that sounds like a plan.” She arched her feet. “Let my legs up at least?”
He backed off of her and admired the view. Her thighs were deliciously damp, her pussy swollen from his ministrations, and she looked juicy enough for him to eat. He thought for a moment and then grabbed the bunched-up leggings at her knees and used them like a tether, hauling her forward into his lap.
Her eyes flew open. “What—”
He turned her over and put a hand on her rounded little bottom. “I think I’m going to spank you for the stunt you pulled today.”
“I did that for love!”
“And I’m going to love spanking this plump little bottom of yours.” He ran a hand over her buttocks.
She turned and gave him an arched-eyebrow glare. “Only if I get to spank you next for all the stunts you pulled.”
That seemed fair to him.
Epilogue
Greer was adjusting the spray of baby’s breath twined into her braid when one of the tailors on hand at Gretchen’s wedding handed her a note.
Meet me in the green study. It’s important.—A
Hmm. Important? She wasn’t sure if this was another one of Asher’s “let’s pretend this is urgent information to get Greer to come make out with me” notes or if there truly was something important. In the last few months, the man had come to realize that she would always show up if he sent her a note, no matter how busy she was, and he’d started to use them for dirty, sexual things.
As if she’d complain?
She loved being the center of Asher’s world. Her life was better now than it had ever been, and she didn’t know when she’d been so very happy. Kiki had taken over renting Greer’s small, sensible apartment (with a discount, of course) as she went to culinary school, and that had let Greer move in with Asher to his slightly bigger apartment. They were looking for a new place, but between trying to find the perfect location in the city and the perfect house for their baby, it was slow going. That was fine. They still had a few weeks.
Greer tucked the note into the bodice of her empire-waisted gown and hoisted herself out of her chair. She seemed to be more belly than body lately, but Asher always made her feel beautiful. He loved everything about their child and had been more excited than she was when it had first started to move. He constantly came up with lists of names that he wanted her to consider, and she was pretty sure he’d purchased a tiny baseball bat and glove already. The man was so excited about their baby that it made her glow with happiness.
Smoothing her bluish-purple dress, Greer put a hand to her huge belly. “I think I’m going to go take another pee break before it’s time to go down the aisle.”
Next to her, Taylor was playing with the straightening iron on her hair. She was dressed in a gown of the same pale color, but a different cut. In the next room over, Gretchen was panicking at her sisters, as she had been all morning. Some people got a slight case of bridal nerves. Gretchen had a hurricane full of them. Taylor put down the iron and started to get up. “You need someone to hold your skirts?”
“I’m good. If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’ll be back soon. It’s not like I can run away.” She patted her belly and felt the baby kick in return.
“Will do,” Taylor said, and then frowned fiercely into the mirror as she tried to flat-iron a limp stray curl.
Greer slipped out and moved into the hallway. It was surprisingly quiet, given that it was Gretchen and Hunter’s wedding day and the wedding itself was going to happen in less than an hour. Hundreds of people had descended upon Buchanan Manor, but no one seemed to be in this particular hall. Perfect. She vaguely remembered seeing a green study several doors down. It wouldn’t be downstairs—Asher was very careful not to make Greer take stairs at this stage in her pregnancy. She suspected in another week or so, he’d try to carry her everywhere.
The thought of him toting her heavily pregnant body around made her smile, and she was still smiling as she pushed open the door to the green study and saw her beloved standing there. “Got your note,” she announced.