Page 110 of The Heart We Guard
Tension hangs between us like a spring coiled too tightly.
He walks to the foot of the bed, grips both my ankles, and tugs me further down the bed. I grip the sheets as I squeal.
When I look over my shoulder at him, his eyes are firmly glued on my ass. He spreads my legs and puts one knee on the bed between them, before crawling over my body.
With his lips right next to my ear, he says, “If you wanted to rev my engine, babe, this is how you do it.” The words shiver through me from the first brush of air. “Now, stay still and let me play with my surprise.”
He lifts off me, and I miss his warmth immediately. Kneeling between my thighs, he runs both palms up my legs, massaging as he goes. When he reaches my ass, he kneads it, then slides his hands beneath the flimsy material of the panties.
His wide palms are calloused, and the friction on my skin is delicious.
“These look so good on you,” he says, removing his hands before slipping his index finger in the waistband and sliding it back and forth.
Heat rises in my cheeks, and I bury my face in the covers. He grips the trim of the panties and lifts it over my cheek, before placing a chaste kiss, followed by a swift bite.
“Ahh,” I cry, the sound muffled by the bedding.
Butcher chuckles. A deep rumble that reverberates through me. “God, I could just eat you up.”
He lifts my hips a little, then places his face between my legs. The feel of his tongue over the panties causes me to jump. The fabric rubs against me as he sucks my clit through them.
“Are these new?” he asks.
“I bought them for you, today.”
“For me?” He looks up at me and grins. “I’m grateful, and for that, I won’t rip them off you like I was thinking of doing. Instead, I’m gonna savor them.”
With that, he slides the panties out of his way and plunges his tongue inside me.
32
BUTCHER
Aguy gets a message from his woman that she’s in bed, waiting to be unwrapped, he usually isn’t gonna ask too many questions. And I try hard to block mine, given Greer is lying in bed in peekaboo underwear that has her best bits both wrapped up and yet presented to me in a visual feast.
But I also hope the rest of the girls didn’t convince her she needed to be anything other than she already is for me.
Those thoughts quickly dissipate, though, as Greer wriggles beneath me. She lifts her hips a little higher, taking a little more weight on her knees, giving me better access to her pussy.
Smells so fucking good, like she just showered, but with a hint of her musk. Wanna bury my face in there and eat her out for as long as she’ll let me.
I’ve let the fact she’s asexual, and my limited understanding of what that means, hold me back from the more I want to share with her. I’ve been grappling with the idea that any sexual advances I make might be her tolerating me.
Which means, I haven’t been as dominant. Haven’t suggested using toys together. Haven’t tied her to the bed so I can edge her over and over.
But this feels like she initiated it for the first time, and I fucking love it.
And maybe it opens the door to more.
“Stay right there,” I tell her before climbing off the bed to tug my Henley over my head. It’s the middle of the day, and there’s shit I need to be doing. But when I got Greer’s text, there was only one place I wanted to be.
If the woman who generally doesn’t think about sex is thinking about it and me in the same moment, I’m gonna be there for her in a heartbeat.
“Love your fucking body,” I say. “Love the way you stayed where I asked you.”
“Honestly,” she says, looking over her shoulder, “it’s easier than trying to figure out where I should be. I was a mess trying to decide before you walked in the room.”
Her honest and endearing words make me smile. “Means it was important to you. And I like that I’m important enough to you that you worry about me.”
