"That's the plan."
I turn her to face me, taking in the sight of her—creamy skin and curves and softness and so fucking beautiful it hurts.
"You're staring," she says.
"I'm appreciating."
"There's a difference?"
"Huge difference." I trace one finger along the edge of her bra, watching her breath hitch. "Staring is passive. Appreciating is active. Involves touching."
"Then appreciate me properly."
I kiss her deeply, my hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts through the lace. She arches into my touch, her own hands going to my shirt buttons.
"You're overdressed," she manages between kisses.
"Fix it."
She does, unbuttoning my shirt with steady hands while I try not to lose my mind at the feeling of her fingers on my skin. When my shirt joins her dress on the floor, she runs her hands over my chest, exploring, her touch leaving fire in its wake.
"I love your body," she murmurs.
"It's just a body, sweetheart."
"It's your body. That makes it perfect."
The words nearly unravel me, and with a growl, I reach behind her, unhooking her bra and sliding the straps down her soft arms. Her breasts are perfect—full and soft, her blush-pink nipples already hard.
I lower my head and take one taut nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, and she gasps, her hands fisting in my hair.
"Victor—"
I switch to the other breast, giving it the same attention, using my hand to tease the first while Harper makes these small sounds—tiny whimpers and sighs that make my blood pump faster, her body arching into mine as I try to devour her with my mouth.
I kiss my way down her stomach, dropping to my knees in front of her.
"What are you?—"
"Appreciating you. Properly."
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and pull them down slowly, my eyes never leaving hers.
She steps out of them, completely naked now except for the garter belt and stockings she wore under the dress.
"You kept the stockings on," I note.
"I thought you might like them."
"I fucking love them."
I run my hands up her legs, over the silk of the stockings to the bare skin of her thighs, and she shivers.
"Cold?"
"You know I'm not cold."
"Then what are you?"
