The Billionaire's Favourite Mistake(32)

"Should I be?"

The little smile touching the edges of her mouth was so damn sexy, he  couldn't resist kissing it again. "This is your second time having sex,  right? Most people are nervous for a while."

The delicate little snort she gave was charming. "I've already had a  worst-case scenario, Asher. Bad sex in a public spot, no foreplay, no  orgasm." She ticked each grievance off her fingers. "Then you got me  pregnant."

"Ouch." He really was the worst ever. And he was going to make it up to  her, even if he had to spend the next six years kissing her bare feet.  Or six decades. Whatever it took.

"I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just telling you the truth." She  leaned in and brushed her fingers over his mouth, that small touch  sending shock waves straight to his groin. "The way I see it, tonight  can go two possible ways."

"I'm listening."

"Either you're as completely terrible as I expect, and we can practice  until you get better, like I thought. Or . . . you're amazing and you've  been lying to me this entire time just to get me in your bed."

Well, when she put it that way . . . "Which do you want it to be?"

"Considering I would rather not be the recipient of another round of truly terrible sex?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Damn. You really do have a way of flattening a man's ego."

She tapped his lower lip with her finger. "Consider it payback for you being a jerk."

"Fair enough." He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips. "But I intend on making you yell out my name tonight."

"Fair enough," she echoed, gazing up at him with such serious eyes. "You're welcome to try."

"Oh, I'm going to try, all right. It's my new goal." He kissed her  fingertips again, liking that she visibly shivered at the small caress.  "Make Greer lose her mind and scream my name out."         

     



 

One of her elegant eyebrows arched. "Do I seem like a screamer to you?"

"What can I say? I'm a man that loves a challenge." He clasped her hand  in his, and then lowered their linked palms to her side so he could  lean in and kiss her. "And I intend on having a lot of fun trying."

"You'll forgive me if I point out that you should try and make this fun for me, too?"

Oh, it will be. But Asher only grinned at her. Let her be full of  reluctance and doubts. They'd be gone by the time he was done with her  tonight. He wasn't leaving this bedroom until she was an utterly  boneless, sated mess. . . . who had screamed his name at least once.

And to start out? He needed to get that adorably skeptical look off her pretty face. "I did promise you foreplay, did I not?"

"You did."

"We should probably start with undressing, then. May I?" He released  her hand and put a finger to one of the buttons on her blouse, right  under the high collar. No sexy, low-cut flashes of skin for Greer. She  was all business, clothing-wise. He kind of loved that. She was like his  own sexy teacher fantasy to undress. Except, well, she was a wedding  planner, but he didn't care. It was Greer, and that was enough fantasy  for him.

This time, she visibly swallowed, and then nodded. "Of course. This will go much faster if we're undressed."

"Didn't realize you were so eager."

"The sooner we're naked, the sooner we're done."

"Greer, my sweet love, I do believe you could give classes on how to  easily shatter a man's ego," he teased, and undid the first button. The  hint of creamy brown skin underneath made his dick twitch in response,  and he moved immediately to the second one and undid it, too. The barest  hint of cleavage was revealed, and he had to bite back a groan. He  glanced up at her face and noticed she was watching him with a peculiar  expression. "What is it?"

"Your sweet love?"

Damn. Had that slipped out? Time to own it. "What would you do if I said I was in love with you?"

"Call you a liar?"

"Then call me a liar, because I am." He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose to take the gravitas out of his statement.

"You're a liar or you're in love?"

Such a dubious woman, and such delectable breasts were being revealed  to his swiftly unbuttoning fingers. "Why don't I show you which one I  am?" He brushed aside the filmy fabric of her blouse, revealing black  lacy bra cups and breasts that were far more generous than he  remembered. He groaned. "Fuck."

"What?" He watched as she visibly stiffened a little.

"I was expecting beige. Or white. But seeing you with a sexy bra?" He shook his head. "My dick was not prepared."

Her small, throaty little laugh made his entire body hum in response.  "My breasts seem to have blown up like balloons over the past month or  two. I had to buy some new lingerie and figured I might splurge on  something . . . pretty."

Was she blushing? Ah, fuck. Were her nipples hard through the lacy  fabric? He dragged a knuckle over the tip of one breast and loved that  she sucked in a breath, loved that he could feel the tiny, hard peak  through the fabric. "Were you thinking of me when you bought this?"

"So arrogant," she whispered.

"That's not a no."

She just bit her lip, and he knew he had his answer. And damn if that  didn't do all kinds of urgent things to his body. The need to push her  down on the bed and claim her for his own was surging through him, but  he forced himself to return to slowly unbuttoning her blouse and  revealing more satiny skin. All of this was his, and he planned to enjoy  every last inch of her tonight.

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?"