This kiss…this kiss was an explosion. Every guardrail I’d constructed, every promise I’d made to myself, incinerated with one touch.
I heard the dim thud of my door slamming shut, but it was so far outside my realm of focus that it might as well have occurred galaxies away.
Asher’s hands burned a path down my back to the curve of my ass, and another gasp escaped when he lifted me with the ease of someone picking up a rag doll.
Electric shivers rippled down my spine, and I instinctively wrapped my arms and legs around him as he carried me to my room without breaking our kiss.
My flat had one bedroom and the door was open, so he didn’t have to guess where to go. Every step added to the need building between my legs; by the time we passed through the doorway, I was nothing more than a bundle of anticipatory pleasure strung together with lust.
Asher pulled his mouth away from mine. I let out an involuntary whimper of protest, which elicited a soft chuckle as he laid me on the bed with exquisite, agonizing care.
“Don’t worry, darling.” The words feathered over my skin like tiny caresses. “We haven’t even started yet.”
My entire body tightened at the dark promise in his voice. I watched, blood thrumming, as he shed his trousers and boxer briefs.
We’d lost my dress and his shirt somewhere between the living room and bedroom. I was clad in my black lace bra and thong set-the one I always wore for first dates-and Asher was…well, he was naked.
The most glorious, mouthwatering type of naked a girl could dream of.
If I hadn’t been lying down, my knees might’ve buckled from the sheer visual pleasure standing before me.
Broad shoulders. Tapered waist. Abs like chiseled marble. And those thighs. They looked like they could crush a freaking watermelon.
My belly fluttered with a fresh wave of need.
I’d never admit it, but I’d always thought footballers had the best physique out of any athletes. Slim yet muscular, light yet powerful.
Asher proved all my theories right.
My eyes tracked a light dusting of hair-down, down, past the ridges of his abs all the way to his arousal.
The air evaporated from my lungs.
My God. Even his cock was beautiful. Long and thick, perfectly proportioned to his body, its tip already leaking pre-cum.
Another soft laugh interrupted my greedy perusal.
“Close your mouth, sweetheart,” Asher drawled. “There’s plenty of time for that later.”
A flush worked its way from my face to my toes at the insinuation. However, my embarrassment faded when he approached me, his eyes dark with a mixture of heat, amusement, and something else that slotted between my rib cage like a key into a lock.
It wasn’t my first time having sex, but the lead-up had never felt like this-like I was teetering on the precipice of something that could upend my entire world if I let it.
And I wanted to let it. That was the scariest part.
I’d tried so hard to prevent myself from getting to this point. Every time I gave in over the past two months, I immediately pulled back, but one side had to win the tug-of-war between my heart and mind.
Right now, the heart was leading bigtime.
The mattress dipped beneath Asher’s weight. He hadn’t touched me yet, but the warmth of his body curled around me in sensual tendrils as he dragged his gaze up my legs, over my stomach, and to my face.
I instinctively tensed. Self-consciousness coiled around me in a defensive shield, but unlike previous hookups, he didn’t stop to gawk at the surgery scars on my hip and stomach or struggle to hide a flash of revulsion.
When his eyes met mine, they were filled with nothing except pure, appreciation-fueled desire, and it was that, more than anything else, that ended the war inside me.
Heart: one. Mind: zero.
No one had ever looked at me like that, like they could see past all my shields and pretenses to the imperfections I fought to hide. Like those imperfections didn’t matter, and not only did they not matter, but they were a reason for appreciation instead of an obstacle.
It was the first time anyone had seen me for me.
Emotion tangled in my throat as Asher’s lips brushed mine before he trailed a series of slow, excruciatingly gentle kisses down my throat and chest. He unclasped my bra with deft fingers along the way, and I bit back a moan when he turned his attention to my breasts.
Every inch of skin flamed like it was fire and he was oxygen. The heat spread, slowly at first, then gathering speed as he reached the aching center between my thighs.
My mind was so muddled, I didn’t know when or how he’d slipped my underwear off, but I had enough faculties left to ask the question that’d plagued me since he showed up at my door.
“Why did you come back?” The words slipped out somewhere between nerves and anticipation.
I had an inkling, but I wanted to hear him say it. I needed to know that if we opened Pandora’s box, we would brave the consequences together.
Asher paused, his breath soft against my parted thighs. The moonlight carved valleys and shadows across his face, but when he looked up, I saw the answer before he said it.
“I came back for you.”
Simple. Honest.
Raw.
Then he dove in and drove every other thought out of my mind.
There was no time to reflect on his answer or the way it made my heart fold in on itself. There was only the silkiness of his tongue, and the pleasure pouring through my veins, and the sharp, undiluted need to be as close to him as possible.
If I thought Asher was thorough with his kisses, it was nothing compared to the way he gave oral.
He left no inch of flesh unattended, no piece of want unfulfilled as he ate me out like I was his last meal. When I craved more pressure, he added it; when I wished for more attention on a certain spot, he moved there. It was like he had a crystal-clear look inside my mind, and my defenses were no match for his targeted onslaught.
“Please,” I gasped. I grasped his hair, desperate for any hold that would keep me from slipping too far too fast. “I can’t…I…oh fuck.”
He dragged his teeth across my clit, and only the steel grip of his hands on my hips kept me from shooting off the bed.
Electricity shot through me, causing tears to pool at the corners of my eyes. My words devolved into unintelligible moans as Asher soothed me with gentler laps of his tongue.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so wet.” He groaned, the sound rumbling through me like a match to gasoline.
I was still shivering from the aftereffects when he sucked my already swollen clit into his mouth, and the world splintered again.
I cried out, my back arching up again. But no matter how hard I bucked or how many times I instinctively tried to scoot away, he dragged me back, his mouth and tongue and teeth working in tandem as he continued his brutal, delicious assault against my senses.
My mind was fracturing, its hold on reality slipping with every lick and suck. I was so soaked, I almost didn’t notice when he pushed two fingers inside me. They slid in with little resistance, but when he curled them just so, pressing against my most sensitive spot, my orgasm tore through me with blinding ferocity.
Another sharp cry clawed up my throat, but it was drowned out by pleasure so intense it seemed to unravel straight from my core. Wave after wave rushed through me, stealing the breath from my lungs and filling my vision with bursts of light.
I dimly heard the rustle of clothes and the rip of foil. Fireworks were still exploding behind my eyes when Asher tucked a pillow under my hips and pressed the tip of his cock against my pussy. The orgasm had wrung me out, but that didn’t stop a whimper from escaping.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.