She stared at me for a long moment, her green eyes wide and searching. Then she leaned in and kissed me. Her mouth moved against mine slowly, exploring, learning the shape of me. Her hands slid up into my hair—much longer than Rowan's, pulled back in a ponytail that she carefully released.
"I've wanted to do that since I met you," she murmured against my lips.
"Do what?"
"Let your hair down. See what you look like."
I pulled back enough to let her look. My light brown hair fell past my shoulders, wild and unkempt.
"Better?" I asked.
"Different." Her fingers combed through it, untangling. "But yes. Better."
Another wave of heat was starting to build. I could smell it, could see the way her pupils were beginning to dilate again. But this one was slower. More manageable. The kind she could think through.
"I need you," she said quietly.
"I know."
"But I want to try something." She hesitated. "Can we do it differently this time?"
"How do you want it?"
"Slower. I want to explore you the way you explored me. I want to learn what you like. What makes you tick." She bit her lip. "I want to make you feel good too."
Fuck.
"Naomi. This heat is about you. About taking care of you. You don't need to worry about me."
"I know I don't need to. I want to." Her hand slid down my chest, over my abs, stopping just above the waistband of my pants. "Please. Let me."
How could I say no to that?
"Okay," I said. "But if it gets to be too much, if the heat takes over…"
"Then you take control. Do what you’re so good at. Making me come for you. Care for me. Own me."
Those two words undid me completely. I lay back in the nest, letting her have her way and set the pace. She straddled me slowly, her hands braced on my chest. Even through the thin cotton of my pants, I could feel the heat of her, the slick that was already dripping from her.
"Tell me what you like," she said.
"Everything you do to me, I like."
"That's not specific enough." Her nails scraped lightly down my chest and I hissed. "That?"
"Yeah. That's good."
She did it again, harder this time, leaving red lines in their wake.
"And that?"
"Fuck. Yes."
She smiled her first genuine smile I'd seen from her since this heat started. "Good to know."
Her hands continued their exploration, finding every sensitive spot, every place that made me groan or tense or grab the blankets beneath us. By the time she finally removed my pants, I was already hard enough to hurt. Dripping like she was.
"Can I, Sir?" she asked, her hand hovering.
