Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty five
Christian
Telling the FCDO and Bridget that Leo had called with a personal emergency and that I had to get home was the easiest lie I’ve ever told.
In actual fact, I hadn’t told anyone I was home a day earlier than planned.
I’d booked an overnight commercial flight, took a taxi—stopping at the breakfast place down the street from Asher’s apartment that I knew he liked—and came straight here.
No diplomatic security checks or government-appointed drivers.
I felt almost normal. It wasn’t a terrible feeling.
We’d kissed slow and deep as the water ran from cold to hot and then to blisteringly hot in his shower.
“It does that,” he’d explained distractedly while fiddling behind for the knob to adjust it, not breaking away from my mouth.
He’d drawn his hands over every inch of my body like he’d been holding back before and was now free at last to touch me how he wanted and where he wanted.
Small, talented hands smoothed over my throat, chest, stomach, thighs, and cock in almost worship.
As we dry ourselves off and move to the bed still half-damp, my heart is pounding a strong, steady rhythm in my chest. He spreads himself out on the bed and gives me a shy look, encouraging me to study him in all his naked, tempting glory. He is divine.
I wasn’t lying when I told him he’s more beautiful than Felix.
Felix’s beauty is classical, obvious, hard to argue with; it’s wrapped up in how he’s trained his body and how he holds himself.
Asher’s beauty is something else—quiet and less discernible.
Understated. A first look might even render it unremarkable, but when one took their time…
well, his individual features are so perfectly formed so as to be almost preternatural.
He is the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. And now I get to be inside him.
“How do you want me?” he asks as he leans up on his elbows.
The flesh of his stomach pulls tight across the well-maintained musculature as he does.
Every inch of him is shaped to torture me, every eyelash, every fingernail, every individual hair around the base of his cock is perfect.
Across his pelvis, his cock lies almost fully hard.
I climb onto the bed and settle between his spread legs, lowering my head to take him into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he gasps, falling onto his back.
I coax him to full hardness with my tongue and lips, pulling off to kiss and lick my way down into the hot, earthy space between his legs.
He spreads himself wider, opening himself up to me without hesitation or shame.
When my tongue reaches his tight opening, he groans with pleasure, shoving his fists under his lower back to lift his hole up off the bed so I can get to it better.
“You’re so perfect, darling,” I tell him as I kiss across his inner thighs. “So beautiful.”
He’s biting at his lips, arching his back up needily. “So are you. I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”
“Where is your lubricant?”
A delighted look crosses his face, and he reaches a hand under his pillow, where he retrieves a clear bottle and hands it to me.
“Lubricant,” he says in what I’m sure is supposed to be a British accent.
Raising an eyebrow, I take it from him and squirt some onto my hand before smothering my arousal with it.
I’m exceptionally hard, thick and hot and desperate to be inside of him, to watch him break apart on my cock. I hand him the bottle back.
“Open yourself up for me, sweetheart,” I say. “I want to watch.”
Asher’s mouth parts in surprise, but he moves to obey at once.
He takes the bottle and coats his hand, tossing it to the side as he brings a leg up and gets to work.
I’ve watched him do this on a call, and in a solo video I stumbled across when I was in London and gone to bed missing him, and this is even more erotic.
He gazes at me now the way he gazed at the camera, a sweet longing on his face that made you want to fall to your knees and promise him the earth, the way the sun seemed to find him, whatever position he was in, drawn to him in golden exaltation.
He slides one finger inside himself at first, then another as he teases the opening, stretching it as he holds my eye.
“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks,” he pants.
“Whenever I get off, whenever someone else puts their dick in me, I imagine it’s you.
Fuckk…” He lets his head drop back to expose a delectably smooth throat as his breathing turns quick and hard.
When he spreads his legs a little wider, I lean in to press a kiss to his thigh, where corded muscle pulls taught under sun-bronzed skin, delighting when he trembles all over.
I trail my mouth up to the crease of his thigh, to where his fingers work his hole expertly, and I kiss the back of his hand tenderly, before I continue up his body.
When I’m beside him, he turns his head to kiss me, mouth wet and open, and tongue searching for me.
Teasingly, I pull back from his mouth just before it finds mine, which makes him moan again, needily, but then I close my lips over his, which are bitten a deep red.
“How does that perfect little hole feel?” I ask him, glancing down at where he continues to play with himself. “Is it open yet?”
“Mmmmm, yeah,” he breathes as he moves to kiss me again. I let him graze my lips with his. “I’m so fucking open for you, daddy.” I groan, kissing him deeply and fully. His mouth is hot and wet and tastes of toothpaste and brown sugar.
“Please,” he whispers against my lips. “Fuck me now, please.”
I don’t have the strength to deny him, and so, still kissing him, I shift over his body to position myself back between his open legs, kneeling this time.
He reaches out to run his hands up my thighs to my stomach, which I reflexively suck in a little.
I’m not as hard or defined here as he is; it’s the area I’m most self-conscious about with regards to my body, the years of late nights, quick meals, and red wine aren’t so easily run off these days.
But as though he can read my thoughts, he says, “I love your body.” It sounds as sincere as it does when he tells his co-stars they have a nice cock, which I’d always assumed to be a line. But because it’s Asher, and Asher says things with a sincerity most other people don’t, I believe him.
“Thank you, though it’s not as young or as pretty as yours.”
He makes a noise of disagreement. “It’s perfect. You’re so fucking hot.”
My cock pushes against his tight, warm entrance now, looking grossly too big. To check, I slide two fingers inside him, which makes him gasp.
“You’re still very tight.”
“I’m a professional.” He grins. “I can take it. Just go slow.”
“Slow,” I chuckle. “I think perhaps you underestimate my self-control.”
“Ugh, then fast, hard, I don’t give a fuck, just give it to me.
” He arches and shifts, seeking my cock with his body.
I’d be inside him without a condom this time, both our statuses disclosed on the drive to New Jersey—he’d discussed how performers would share these prior to every shoot and how rigorously they needed to test themselves.
After Stella, I’d only ever been with Felix, and I knew he was extremely diligent with his body and sexual health—he also tested often and took PrEP daily.
Swallowing down the building need, I push the blunt head against his hole.
The angle is a little difficult, which Asher notices immediately, though he can’t see where our bodies meet.
“Hang on,” he says, pulling a pillow from near his head to push it under his lower back. It lifts his hips a fraction, perfectly aligning us, and then I give a single determined nudge, and his body gives way and pulls me inside. “Oh, fuck,” Asher gasps. “Oh, fuck. Are you… Okay? Heart okay?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m very okay. Are you?” He feels magnificent, tight and warm, and perfect around me. He nods, dropping his head back.
“Yeah, I am. Just… you’re really thick, it’s a lot.
Hang on…” He takes a deep breath in and then out and then in again.
As I wait, I’m not all the way in, and it’s taking extreme willpower not to thrust, but I don’t want to hurt him.
I glance down at where we’re joined, his body stretched almost obscenely around me, rim pink and shining.
“Shit, okay, yeah, that’s it. Go. All the way. ”
I slide in until I’m fully inside him, which feels unlike anything I’ve ever felt, the tight, hot cocoon of his body making it impossible to know where my body ends and his begins. Shifting forward on my knees a little makes him yelp, bright cobalt eyes widening.
“That was my spot. You’re right… fuck! Yes.
On it. Shit...” He grabs his own cock, still hard and pointed upwards, and squeezes the head into his fist, like he’s attempting to crush it into submission.
I lean down and kiss him, before breathing him in for a moment as I wait for my heart to calm.
“Christian, fucking hell, you feel so good.”
“You feel….” I don’t have the words for it. Overwhelming. Spectacular. Revitalising. “Darling…” I whisper, placing the word on his lips with another kiss.
“Fuck me,” he begs. “Please, fuck me.”