Andrew laughed. “I'm sure she liked you. And she was absolutely smitten with Emma, of course.”
“But?” I pressed.
Andrew was quiet for a moment. “Katherine's not the most tactful person in the world. I know that she just wants me to be happy, but she might have said a few things that put undue pressure on our relationship. I hope you weren't bothered by them.”
I pulled back so that I could look up at him. I wondered how to answer that. Clearly, he was more freaked out about the whole commitment thing than I'd realized.
“I don't think she meant to put undue stress on our relationship,” I finally told him. “I think she just wasn't sure exactly what point our relationship was at. To be honest, I don't think that we really know either. We haven't defined it in so many words.” I paused. “If anything, I think she was just trying to figure out what point we were at. But I wasn't bothered by any of it.”
“Good,” Andrew said, sounding relieved. He pulled me back toward his chest, probably so that he wouldn't have to look me in the eyes during his confession. “I do want to get married at some point, to someone. But I'm not ready to consider that just yet. Not with anyone. And things have already moved so quickly with us, with you moving in here and having Emma, that I just want to enjoy your presence for a little while longer before we start talking about anything more serious.”
“Is that what this is about?” I asked teasingly, dragging my fingers along the skin of his torso. “Me being here in bed with you? We're enjoying one another's presence?”
Andrew chuckled. “Well, I should hope so.” He caught my wrists and rolled us over so that he was on top of me. “Of course, if you're not enjoying my presence just yet, I suppose I'll have to do something about that.”
“Like what?” I asked challengingly.
He growled wordlessly and bent down to kiss me. The kiss was bruising and sensual, much more than a simple meeting of the
lips. He rocked his hips down in time with the movements of his mouth, letting me feel how hard he already was, waking an answering desire in me.
He maneuvered my wrists so that he pinned them with just one hand. Then he brought his other hand down and slid it beneath my shirt, caressing the soft skin of my breasts. He pulled away for a moment and just stared down at me, an unreadable expression on his face.
I raised an eyebrow at him and then slowly removed my shirt, revealing my naked body beneath. Andrew hummed a pleased noise and then bent to trail his lips across my skin, making goosebumps rise in waves. I trembled, burying my fingers in his soft hair as he began to lick at my breasts, sucking the nipples until they stood sharply against my skin.
He repositioned himself so that he hovered over me again and dragged his fingertips up my sides. It seemed like there was something that he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure how to word it.
I groaned impatiently. “Are we fucking or talking?” I asked.
Andrew cleared his throat, sounding awkward. “I'd like you to sleep in here,” he said.
I rolled my eyes but caught his hips, trying to get him to resume what he'd been doing. “So glad you're not kicking me out,” I said sarcastically.
Andrew blinked and then shook his head. “That's not what I meant,” he told me. “I meant, I'd like you to sleep in here, from now on. I don't want you to sleep in the guest bedroom anymore. Unless you really want to. But I like the idea of waking up with you every morning.”
I stared at him for a long moment, sure that he was kidding. But he looked as serious as I'd ever seen him. “Okay, I’d like that,” I said simply. “Now can we continue?”
Andrew snorted at my impatience and kissed me again. It was gentler this time, although just as steamy. His tongue delved into my mouth and drew out lewd whimpers from me.
He pushed my legs up, opening me up for him, and then he plunged inside my entrance, foregoing foreplay and sheathing himself fully in my warmth. I sighed and tugged at his shoulders, pulling him close and burying my face against his neck to breathe in his heady scent.
Our sex that night wasn't lazy, but there was something slower about it, something sweeter. The word “languid” popped up in my head. Whatever it was, I liked it.
He stroked my clit as he rocked his hips into mine, his movements unhurried and tender. I shuddered and spread my legs further to allow him access, shifting against the sheets to change the angle until every stroke made sparks erupt in my core.
My skin felt heated and flushed, and I couldn't seem to keep my eyes open for longer than a couple seconds. The pleasure continued to build, spilling through me until I thought that I would fly apart into a thousand pieces. Each stroke of his fingertips seared with promise as he mercilessly played with my erogenous zones.
I came hard. My walls contracted around his length and drew Andrew into his own orgasm.
For a long moment, the only sound between us was our harsh panting as we caught our breath again. Andrew curled his body around mine as my eyes drifted shut. “Good night,” I whispered.
“Good night,” he responded, his voice a low rumble.
I thought again about what he'd said, about wanting me to sleep in there. It might not be a definition of our relationship or a declaration of love, but it was a step forward, at least.
Anyway, it wasn't as though I had any complaints about sleeping in there, not if every night was going to be like this one.
Chapter Thirty