Chapter 39 Asha
ASHA
Rook didn’t hesitate.
He toed off his tennis shoes, shoved down his shorts and boxer briefs in one smooth motion, and stepped out of them without a hint of shame. When he straightened to his full height, naked, hard, and utterly tempting, my breath caught in my throat.
Every inch of him was sculpted muscle and coiled strength, all tattoos and heat and raw male confidence. And his cock—my God, this man’s cock—had me salivating.
I had to be insane to have agreed to this. But the wine still buzzed through my veins, wrapping everything in a warm haze. It made me braver than I was. Brave enough to do reckless things and pretend they didn’t matter.
Just one night. Just this moment.
No promises. No consequences.
Except…that wasn’t really true.
Because if this meant nothing, why was I shaking? Why were my fingertips tingling, and why was my stomach a playground for a thousand butterflies?
I hadn’t forgiven Rook. Not fully. But something had shifted inside me. And this ruthless, possessive, maddening man had offered me the one thing I’d never expected from him.
Control.
And maybe I needed that more than I wanted to admit. Maybe I liked the idea of being in charge for once, of deciding how far we went and how fast. This way, I held power over him.
And I so wanted to wield it.
My gaze dragged over Rook’s body again. He was breathtaking. An impossible blend of brute force and restraint, danger and beauty.
I wet my lips. “Stroke yourself,” I said, the words slipping out before I could overthink them.
He didn’t even pause. One large hand curled around his cock, and he started to move. Firm, measured strokes, each designed to torment me more than him. His eyes never left mine, daring me to look away, to pretend I wasn’t watching this like it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
My insides clenched when Rook’s other hand braced beside me, carved muscles flexing.
Thick veins stood out along his tattooed forearms. His jaw was tight, the edge of his control bleeding through.
He was holding himself back, completely under my command, and I sensed that every part of him was waiting on my next instruction.
I could barely breathe. “Stop.”
He stilled instantly, as though obeying me were his life’s purpose.
And holy hell, the sight of him, hard and motionless just because I said so, lit something inside me I didn’t recognize. A flicker of dark power. Of curiosity. Of need.
It shocked me how much I enjoyed it.
His hand dropped from his cock, but the tension in his body didn’t ease. If anything, it coiled tighter.
“Touch me.” I barely recognized the sound of my voice.
His brows lifted slightly. “Where, Wildfire?”
The pet name melted through me like warm honey, making my stomach flip. “My breasts.”
Rook moved slowly, deliberately. His hands came to rest on the curve of my ribs, and I felt the heat of them through the thin fabric of my cami. He didn’t rush. He slid his palms up, molding them over my breasts, learning their shape all over again.
My nipples hardened beneath the cotton. My breath hitched.
He made a low sound, full of longing. “Fuck, I missed having my hands on you.”
Dammit, I’d missed this, too.
Rook’s thumbs swept over the peaks of my nipples, pressing just enough to make me gasp. I arched into his touch, needing more.
“Take my top off,” I whispered. “I want your mouth on me.”
Rook growled his appreciation, as though my words had granted an unspoken wish. He curled his fingers into the hem of my cami, and the brush of his knuckles across my skin sent sparks skating up my spine.
He peeled the top over my head and tossed it aside. His gaze landed on my bare chest, and for a moment, he just looked.
“Christ, woman.” His voice came out hoarse. “I don’t deserve this, but I’m fucking taking it.”
Then he ducked his head. The first swipe of his tongue over my nipple stole the air from my lungs.
He sucked it deep into his mouth, groaning against my skin.
His stubble scraped deliciously along the swell of my breast. One hand cradled my back to keep me steady; the other kneaded gently as he moved from side to side, lavishing me with his tongue, his lips, his teeth.
I hissed when he sucked one nipple hard and pinched the other with equal pressure. Pleasure lanced through me, and I clutched his hair, anchoring him close. I whimpered, the sound feral and real and so far from the control I’d thought I was clinging to.
And the worst part? I didn’t care.
I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to think.
I just wanted more.
I tipped his face up toward mine. “Take off the rest of my clothes.”
He dropped to one knee without a word and unzipped my boots with care. When both clunked to the floor, his hands found the waistband of my leggings.
I lifted my ass so he could peel them down slowly, with his knuckles grazing my thighs on the way. Then came my panties, dragged off with just as much unhurried focus.
When that last piece slipped away, Rook knelt back to admire his work. His palms rested on my calves, and I could feel every callus, every warm touch of skin.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, voice rough and deep, his gaze sweeping over me as if memorizing the sight of every inch he’d uncovered.
One hand drifted to the thick cock jutting from between his thighs. His thumb traced over the glistening tip before he gripped himself hard and pumped.
I lifted my chin and clicked my tongue. “I never said you could do that.”
He paused, expression pained. “You’re killing me here, woman.”
A lazy smile formed on my lips. “I know.” I rested my foot against Rook’s chest. His heart thudded beneath my toes. “Kiss me.”
He leaned forward instantly and pressed his lips to my ankle.
“Higher.”
He obeyed, trailing soft kisses up my calf, past my knee, and along the inside of my thigh, each press of his lips making my breath come faster and my pulse thrum louder in my ears.
“Keep going.”
His mouth stopped just short of where I needed him. His breath skated over my sensitive skin.
Then he looked up, hungry and dangerous. “You want my mouth, Wildfire? Say it.”
I hesitated, and heat rushed to my cheeks. The words on the tip of my tongue felt too intimate to say aloud.
But he was waiting, bare tattooed shoulders rising with restraint he hadn’t yet broken.
“I want your mouth here,” I whispered, sliding my fingers through my wetness.
Rook let out a sound that echoed low in his chest. Then he brushed my hand away, spread me open, and buried his face between my thighs.
The first lick was slow and possessive. The second had me clutching the counter behind me, desperate to stay upright.
“That’s it,” he growled, mouth slick against my heat. “You’re already fucking soaked. Was it seeing me on my knees that did that? Or was it knowing I’d do anything you asked?”
“Anything?”
“Aye. I’d tear down empires for you. Bleed for you. Gut your enemies and lay them at your feet.”
I should’ve been horrified. Repulsed. But Rook’s dark declaration only warmed me. He’d never be one for romantic overtures when all he knew was death and pain. His love languages were acts of vengeance and violent words of affirmation.
“Well,” I murmured. “That’s…disturbingly sweet.” I raked my fingers through his hair. “How about you just go down on me until I see stars?”
“With pleasure.”
My hips jerked when his tongue circled my clit. “You like that?” he asked, and licked me again. “The feel of my tongue on your hot little cunt?”
“Yes,” I moaned.
He chuckled darkly. “If you want more, you’ll have to use that smart mouth and tell me.”
“Give me your fingers,” I gasped.
“You can do better than that.”
“I…I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t think straight.”
Rook lapped at me leisurely. “Do you want me to fuck this perfect pussy with my fingers?”
Heat crept up my neck and face. Those filthy words were going to be the end of me.
“Yes.”
“Then say that.”
I blinked. “Those words exactly?”
“If that’s what you want, then aye.”
“Okay.”
I could do this. Dirty talk had never been my strong suit, but maybe it was time to work on my skills. And anyway, Rook had me at my most vulnerable. I’d bargain away every last piece of myself if he gave me what I wanted.
I exhaled a sharp breath. “I want you to fuck my pussy with—”
“Perfect pussy.” His eyes dipped to my entrance, and he licked his lips. “Facts are important.”
This man. He was something else.
“Please, Rook, I want you to fuck my perfect pussy with your fingers.”
He grinned as though I’d said the magic words. “Good girl.”
He didn’t make me wait. His mouth returned to my clit while one thick finger slid inside, filling me, but not enough.
My head fell back. “More. I need more.”
He added a second, and it made my legs quake.
“Fuck, woman,” he growled, voice muffled against my flesh. “Your greedy little cunt is gripping me like she missed me.”
I really had. In this moment, with Rook’s mouth on my pussy and his fingers thrusting inside me, edging me so close to release, I could ignore all the reasons I should hate him. All the reasons I should never forgive him. Never trust him.
Yep. There went my soul. Sucked straight out of my vagina as if Rook were some goddamn sex demon.
All I could do was surrender to the sensations overwhelming me.
“Do you feel this?” Rook curled his two fingers inside me in a come here motion, applying pressure to a sensitive spot inside.
“Yes.” The word came out breathy.
“I want you to focus on it. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded and licked my lips, already sensing this climax was soaring into uncharted territory.
He angled his wrist, pumping slow and deep as his mouth tormented me with soft flicks and hard sucks.
He was learning me.
Testing me.
Destroying me.
My hands scrambled for purchase, one clenching the edge of the counter, the other tangled in his hair. “Don’t stop.”
He thrust his fingers harder, quicker, and my hips bucked in time. The pressure built impossibly fast, tight and hot and unfamiliar. Not just a release. Something bigger. Something brutal.
“Rook!”
His free hand flattened on my stomach. “Let it go.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Show me how you break for me.”
Then he sucked my clit hard and crooked his fingers just right.
And. I. Shattered.
The orgasm slammed into me like lightning. My vision blurred. My body convulsed, and my hips jerked uncontrollably as I released a gush of warm fluid.
I cried out, dazed, overstimulated, and completely undone. My legs trembled. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
“Fuck.” Rook tensed and let out a guttural groan, still lapping at my clit.
And when I finally looked down, he wore an expression of awe, eyes dark and wild, cock still hard and pulsing between us. “That’s it, love. You did so good.”
My whole body throbbed in aftershocks, and the world spun like I’d stepped off a roller coaster. My chest heaved. My skin felt flushed and damp. Between my thighs, everything felt sensitive, aching, wet.
So wet.
I blinked at the counter beneath me. Liquid pooled between my legs and dripped onto the floor.
Oh God.
I think I squirted.
“Um.” I stared at the mess as mortification set in.
“You came so hard for me, Wildfire.” Rook looked up from where he knelt between my thighs, his beard glistening, pupils blown. “What a fucking gift.”
My face burned. “That’s never happened to me before.”
He grinned, cocky and proud all at once.
I covered my face with both hands.
“Don’t you dare act shy now.” He stood and reached for a towel, soaked a corner of it under the tap. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Rook dabbed at the inside of my thighs first, gentle and unhurried, then cleaned the countertop and floor while I pretended I didn’t want to escape and hide in the closet.
He grabbed a fresh towel and wiped his beard.
When he was done, he came back to me, cupped my jaw, and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
I nodded. “I’m sure I’ll get over my embarrassment sometime in the next decade or two.”
“There’s nothing to feel self-conscious about.” He smirked. “And you’re not the only one who made a mess.”
My gaze dipped to where Rook dragged the towel over his cock as it eased down.
My lips parted. “You came, too?”
Without even touching himself?
“Aye. Just from watching you come apart.”
He tossed the towel into the hamper before helping me off the counter. I let him dress me in one of his black T-shirts. No underwear, no pants. Then he lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
“What are you doing?”
“Carrying my wife to bed.”
I didn’t have the energy or inclination to fight him over it.
In the bedroom, he laid me down carefully, slid in behind me, and tugged me against him.
His cock, already stirring again, pressed into the curve of my ass.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
Was it? After what had just happened in the bathroom, lying together hardly seemed taboo.
I nodded, determined not to think too hard about it. “Just for tonight,” I whispered.
His arm tightened.
Then I fell asleep, blissed-out and wrapped in Rook’s warmth, wondering what the hell I’d done and why it felt so good.