Nana had never been one to initiate anything, but she'd followed happily enough whenever he had. He doubted that had changed now. John spared a moment to wonder if Andrew had been good to her, if he'd taken time with her, if he'd given her pleasure before he took his own. Pointless to think of those things when he was with her now, when she would be in his bed. Their bed.
She turned in his arms and brushed a kiss against his cheek. John turned his head and caught her mouth. It was soft, the curve of it well-remembered and just as sweet. Since asking her to marry him, he'd kissed her several times, but they'd been gentle, undemanding, almost chaste. He wanted more than that, now.
He brought up a hand and cupped her cheek and slowly, easily, worked into her mouth. Her tongue was shy and hesitant against his own, but the longer he kissed and teased and coaxed her, the more she responded to him. He slipped his hand around the nape of her neck, barely touching the soft skin, sliding into her thick hair, stroking over the line of her jaw and down her throat. His other hand smoothed down over the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip and up again, thumb running along the lower edge of her breast. He liked the soft sounds she pushed into his mouth, the way she pressed against him, so warm.