Chapter 23
LILY
You’d think because I locked my bedroom door that Asher would’ve taken the hint when he jiggled the doorknob a little after two in the morning. I hadn’t been able to fall asleep, and I cursed myself for getting so attached to having him sleep beside me in such a short time.
Seriously, I need my head checked.
I eventually fell asleep after hearing Asher’s footsteps slowly move away from my door. I felt bad, but I just couldn’t risk the twins springing us.
Imagine my surprise when I wake up to my core on fire from the lash of his tongue as he once again eats my pussy while I’m sleeping.
“Asher!” I whisper-yell, and his eyes lock onto mine, the slither of light flowing out from the bathroom enough to show me the flare of excitement in his gaze.
He doesn’t stop, his tongue tasting as his lips kiss my folds with passion.
Helpless to fight his assault, as usual, I give in and let my body take over, quickly tumbling into the abyss of ecstasy.
Grabbing the pillow on the bed next to me, I smother my face, panting my cries into its softness as I shatter on Asher’s mouth.
I’ve barely finished riding the waves when his head disappears from between my legs, and I hurl the pillow over the side of the bed, gasping for air.
I’m not prepared for how quickly Asher moves, gripping my thighs and spreading them wide as he positions himself at my entrance.
The moment he slams inside me, his thick length hard and brutal, a yell escapes me. Asher’s hand slaps down over my mouth as he pounds into me at a fevered pace that leaves me no choice but to hold on until the ride is over.
“I’m never walking away from you,” Asher rasps against my ear, his bare chest pressing against my tank, causing friction over my peaked nipples.
My body ignites again, both from the impact of each thrust, hitting me in just the right way deep inside, and the way his words and tone are so final as he claims me.
And that’s exactly what he’s doing.
Claiming me.
He’s making sure I know who I belong to. And shit, I want to belong to Asher. I really do.
I’m not expecting the second orgasm that hits, and I’m thankful Asher’s palm is still covering my mouth because I’m helpless to hold back. The moment I start soaring, Asher shifts and presses two fingers to my clit, rubbing with vigour that prolongs the electric ripples zapping through me.
A low grunt flies from Asher’s lips as his back stiffens, hammering his cock so deep inside me that it meets resistance.
I milk him. My internal muscles clenching, gripping, until every last drop of his offering has been wrung from his body.
“Fuck, Angel,” he pants in my ear as he peels his hand from my lips. “I’ll never tire of getting lost with you.”
I hum in agreement, knowing exactly how he feels. It’s transcendent. I’ve never felt that before.
“Are you… into somnophilia?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath.
My words make Asher still, and he rises up to hover over me, the silver chain around his neck dangling as he studies my face.
“Som-what?”
I grin. “Somnophilia. It’s when someone likes to engage in sexual activity with another person while they are sleeping or unconscious.”
His dark brows hitch, and then his eyes dart to the side as he thinks that over. Then he nods.
“It would appear so. Didn’t know it was an actual thing.”
“It definitely is a thing,” I say, my cheeks heating at the memory of waking up with hungry arousal so strong that there was no way I couldn’t chase it. “You’ve done that a lot with me.”
Asher nods, a sinful smirk crossing his face.
“There’s just something about turning you on when you can’t fight me off, and then having you wake up so ravenous that you’ll likely eat me alive. I like pushing you past the point of no return.”
Jesus, this guy. If that’s not the hottest thing a man has ever said to me!
“Have you done that with anyone else?”
At my question, Asher shakes his head easily. “Nope. I’ve never done anything meaningful with anyone other than you.”
That makes my heart do a flip inside my chest, and I should slap the little bitch for being so easy, but my brain and heart are having a hard time refusing him.
Asher, now lax inside me, slips from my body, leaning down to press his warm lips to my nose before he rolls off my bed and darts into the bathroom. I hear the faucet running for a moment before he struts back in, completely naked, his cock swaying heavily between his legs as he moves.
“How did you get in here?” I ask, frowning. “I locked the door.”
With a smirk, he parts my legs and starts cleaning me up with a warm washcloth.
“The window.” He bobs his head toward my window, and I frown.
“But… how?”
Turning his attention to cleaning his dick, Asher mumbles, “I went out the window when you were distracting the twins this morning, and left it unlocked.”
While that was smart on his part, dread washes over me at the fact that my window has been unlocked since this morning, all while there’s someone offering a lot of money to end my life.
They could have gotten inside.
Sitting up abruptly, I tug the bedsheet with me, covering my chest.
“Can you lock it, please? Now.”
At my stern tone, Asher glances up from wiping over his heavy balls, confusion contorting his face.
“Sure. Is there something wrong?”
“I just don’t like leaving the house unlocked. Ever. Under any circumstances.”
“O…kay.” He eyes me warily, bending down to pick up the discarded pillow on the floor, tossing it back on the bed next to me before making his way across the room to lock my window. “It’s riskier having me sneak out your bedroom door,” he states, putting the latch in place.
Still propped up in my bed, I watch him saunter back over, slipping in next to me.
“Why are you getting into my bed?”
“To sleep.” He bites back a grin as he shuffles down under the blankets.
“Asher, you can’t sleep in here. Not when the twins are right upstairs.”
Fluffing the pillow under his head, he puts his hand between his head and the pillow before getting comfy.
“I can’t sleep without you. I tried. It’s impossible.”
I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t take the seriousness from his expression.
If I were being honest with myself, I’d admit that I find it harder to sleep without him, too, but I keep that to myself. Words like that won’t help the situation we’re in.
No longer willing to wait for me to settle into the bed properly, Asher reaches out and tugs me down, settling me up against his chest, my head slotting into the crook of his neck.
A sigh escapes me as I inhale his spicy scent, and I give in, relaxing against him.
“Make sure you leave my room early. I can’t have the twins—”
“Springing us?” he cuts me off. “Yeah, I know. I don’t want that to happen either. I just… need you.”
Shit. I need him too.
I don’t say the words, but I squeeze him a little tighter, letting him know that I understand.
With him here in bed with me, I fall quickly into a peaceful bliss, wrapped in Asher’s embrace. It’s like my soul knows it’s safe. Knows this is right. It wants to be here, pulled by the invisible thread that feels unbreakable. Like it’s as strong as my need to breathe.
I wake early on Saturday morning, still nestled against Asher, although he’s now on his back. As I blink the sleep from my eyes, I watch him, so peaceful, his dark lashes a thick fan as they rest lifelessly above his cheekbones.
The more time I spend with Asher, the more I no longer see the boy he once was.
There’s a hardness to him that came about in his early teens, and it never left.
Now, as an adult, the hardness makes him look lethal.
I can imagine when he walks into a room, most people would be intimidated by his demeanour.
Maybe I should be intimidated too, yet it’s part of what draws me to him.
He’s the opposite of Alexander, who’s a mummy’s boy, through and through. He likes collared shirts and knitted vests, and shoes so shiny you can see your reflection in them.
Asher Scott is nothing like my ex-husband.
He has hard defined lines, walks with a deadly confidence, and honestly could walk around in black jeans slung low on his hips and nothing else, and it would be completely acceptable.
Because who would dare question him?
Maybe I should tell him about the hit on me. Tell him about my stalkers. Maybe someone like Asher can handle that craziness.
But I can’t. It will lead to more questions I can’t give him answers to.
Reluctantly, I ease from his embrace and out of the bed, which causes him to stir.
“Where’s my Angel going?”
I grin, watching him try to force his eyes to focus as he blinks them open.
“I’m no angel, Asher. You should stop calling me that.” I smile. “And I’m getting up to make breakfast and hope my sons don’t find you sneaking from my room.”
He sits up, the blankets pooling around his waist to reveal the sculpted chest and abs I’d been pressed to only moments ago.
His tanned skin and dark tattoos stand out against my stark white sheets, and even though his hair is a tussled mess, he still looks fierce.
Especially with the healing bruises he came home with from the fight night at The Rough House.
“You are absolutely an angel,” he argues, his voice a husky rasp from sleep. “Therefore, I won’t stop calling you that.”
I roll my eyes, spinning on my heels to head to the bathroom. The rustle of the sheets is my only warning before Asher’s strong arm wraps around my middle, before he hauls me back against the hard lines of his chest.
“Can I have you for breakfast?” His breath is hot against my ear before he sucks the lobe between his lips, and a shiver of excitement rolls up my spine.
“Yes,” I whisper, arching my neck as he peppers kisses down it. “As soon as the twins head back to campus.”
His lips freeze on the column of my neck. “I’ll be ravenous by then,” he whines and I grin, tugging myself free and shooting him a flirty look over my shoulder.
“I do hope so.”