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“Good.”

He grins, then his hands trail down my sides. When he reaches my breasts, he pauses, eyes locked with mine like he’s waiting for a sign. I nod, breath shaky.

He lowers his mouth and kisses the swell of one breast and moves closer to the peak. His tongue flicks lightly over my nipple, and I arch, a quiet gasp escaping before I can stop it. He groans low in his throat, like my reaction does something to him.

He licks and sucks gently, hand cradling the other breast, thumb teasing in slow circles. My fingers slide into his hair as my back arches again.

“Oh my god…” I whisper, voice breaking on a breath.

He looks up, smug and tender all at once. “Feel good?”

I manage a breathless laugh. “You have no idea.”

Then his hands drift lower, his fingertips skimming, exploring, as he kisses down my stomach with aching patience.

One hand stops at the waistband of my panties.

“I can't wait to feel you come apart for me,” he murmurs against my skin, voice thick with need.

He kisses the inside of my knee, then hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties and slowly slides them down. I lift my hips to help. He moves slowly and carefully, like he’s unwrapping something rare.

When they’re gone, he kneels and lets his hands skim the outsides of my thighs.

“You are so damn stunning, Mandy. You have no idea.”

My voice is barely a whisper. “You keep saying things like that, and I’m going to fall in love with you.”

He kisses my thigh. “Then I better keep saying them.”

I laugh softly, breathless.

His kisses move down my body…stomach, hips, inner thighs…like he’s worshipping every inch. I tremble under the weight of it, of him.

He spreads my knees apart with both hands, slow and confident, and settles between them like he belongs there.

Then his mouth finds me.

He starts with gentle kisses that are feather-light and teasing. My breath hitches as his tongue flicks about, tasting every bit of me.

“Oh,” I gasp, my fingers clutching the sheets.

He hums low in his throat, the vibration making me jolt.

His tongue moves deliberately now, licking slowly, then circling, then pressing exactly where I need him. He finds my center like it’s instinct, like he’s done nothing else his whole life but figure out how to make me fall apart.

My thighs start to tremble, my hips lifting into him before I even realize I’m doing it. He holds me still with strong hands and keeps going, relentless in the most devastating, beautiful way.

“Nate,” I gasp, breathless and breaking.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on me again, and I shatter.

His fingers slide between my thighs, gentle but sure, exploring slowly. When he finds how wet I already am, he groans, deep and low like it’s pulled from his chest.

“God, Mandy…” he murmurs. “You’re so ready for me.”

One finger strokes through my slick heat, and I arch with a gasp, and almost choke on my own breath. He circles carefully, teasing, coaxing pleasure out of every nerve ending.

I can barely hold still. My hips roll, seeking more, and he gives it, one finger slipping inside, followed by another, slow and steady.