Fit for Love

8. Ashton

Chapter 8

Ashton

Her lips are the softest, most delicious things I’ve ever tasted. I want more. More of her. More of?—

Lips glued to mine, she reaches for the hem of the hoodie I lent her and, pulling back for a second, yanks it off over her head. With a low growl, I drag her back in to resume the kiss, and as our lips meet, I deepen it, exploring her mouth with my tongue as she reaches for her T-shirt.

Fuck, yeah.

My heart rate triples, and my cock reaches new levels of hardness. I need her so badly I all but shake with it. Breathing raggedly, I help her get her T-shirt off as she helps me with mine, each brush of her slim, manicured fingers over my bare skin sending scorching heat through my veins.

By the time those nimble fingers reach for the zipper of my jeans, I’m barely coherent with my need for her. I’ve never wanted a woman so badly, not even as a horny teen before my first fuck. Something about her taste, her feel, the way her body arches against me as her fingers fumble with my fly melts every neuron in my brain, transforming me into a pillaging barbarian. I all but devour her as our clothes drop to the floor in a trail that leads to my bedroom, and then I’m splaying her out on my bed, so overcome by lust it’s all I can do to pull back for a second to take in her sleek, naked curves.

Her creamy, unblemished skin all but glows under the soft light emitted by my bedside lamp, its smoothness unreal as I run my fingers over her slender ribcage and palm her small, round breasts.

“Gorgeous.” The word comes out on a low rasp as I brush my thumbs over her peaked nipples. “So. Fucking. Gorgeous.”

Her gaze meets mine, her hazel eyes dark in the dim light. Her pink tongue strokes over her kiss-swollen lips, making my cock jump. “Do you… have a condom?” She darts a glance at my groin, and her eyes widen. “That is, if they make them big enough.”

“Sure.” My voice is hoarse. I tear my gaze away from the naked perfection of her body long enough to rummage in my nightstand and pull out a foil packet that reads “EXTRA LARGE.”

My hands are not entirely steady, so I rip open the packet with my teeth before sheathing myself. She watches hungrily, her chest rising and falling in the most tantalizing manner, and as I climb over her and she reaches for me, pulling me in for another kiss, I know I’m about to lose control.

“I want you,” she whispers in my ear, her breath sending goosebumps down the side of my body as her slender hand curves around my cock, guiding me to the tender opening of her body. “Ash, I?—”

I slant my lips over hers, not wanting to hear the wrong name on her lips. I probably should’ve corrected her before now, told her I’m a substitute for the trainer she was supposed to see, but it doesn’t matter now. None of it matters as the head of my cock sinks into her, and I feel how soft and wet she is. So fucking wet and tight I nearly come right then and there.

It takes everything I have not to thrust all the way in in one hard stroke. Instead, I go in slowly, letting her adjust to my size, even though the barbarian inside me howls in protest.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes against my lips, her nails digging into my shoulders as I push in deeper. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Holy fuck is right. This is fucking sublime. By the time I bottom out inside her, we’re both panting and sweating—and it’s only the beginning. Pulling out, I slowly thrust back in as her nails dig deeper into my skin, and then… then I begin to fuck her in earnest, the barbarian unleashed.

By the time I come, she’s full-on screaming, and I’ve counted at least three orgasms if the squeezing of her inner muscles is anything to go by.

Spent and exhausted, I roll onto my side and gather her into my embrace, breathing in her apple and hibiscus scent mixed with the musk of sex.

It’s official.

I can’t wait to fucking do this again.