Chapter 29
Harper
Just for the night.
Four little words. I know the implication and the weight of what I am saying, and I mean them. Regardless of the champagne and the adrenaline rush from everything that just happened, I mean these words. I know exactly what I’m saying to him.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his hands on my thighs, his lips close enough to mine that if I want to, I could lean in and kiss him again without even trying.
“Yes,” I tell him.
“I just don’t want you to feel like you were pressured into anything. I have no problem waiting for this. Waiting for you,” he says softly, as he plays with a lock of my hair.
Crazily enough, I know he means it. What’s even crazier is it makes me want it even more.
“It’s not a spur-of-the-moment decision, Ash. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I want this, and I want you,” I tell him.
He searches me for a moment longer, but only a moment. After that, he kisses me, letting it go deeper. Deep enough that I can feel it in my soul, warming me to my bones and making me shudder.
I pull him against me, scooting backwards in an attempt to lie down. But Asher stops and shakes his head.
“No. Not here,” he says, standing up and holding out a hand.
“What’s wrong with the couch?” I ask.
“Your first time shouldn’t be on the couch.”
“Oh, okay.” I take his hand.
I didn’t know it mattered. Darlene lost her virginity behind a liquor store when we were seventeen.
My friend Abbey, a girl that used to work at Silver Spoons with me, said she lost hers in a church parking lot.
I figured it was just something that could happen anywhere, and it didn’t matter as long as it was with the right person.
Thinking about it now, I doubt either of them lost their virginity to the right person.
Maybe it does matter.
We go into my room, and my veins are buzzing with anticipation. As I watch Ash turn down the bed and switch on a lamp, I realize that it matters very much.
This man seems to know that.
Ash turns to me, and I stand in front of him.
I am so anxious; I’m shaking. But he takes my hands in his, and kisses them both.
He holds them to his chest and kisses me.
It’s soft and gentle at first, then slowly deepens.
It conjures up a slow murmur from me, and I pull my hands from his so I can lace my arms around his neck.
Ash is taller than me by quite a bit, and he picks me up. I wrap my legs around him as we continue to kiss. With our mouths locked, he lays me on the bed and slowly crawls on top of me.
My hands begin to wander, raking over his torso, feeling his muscles with my fingertips and palms. All the while thinking about the way he looks without his shirt on.
He was shirtless most of the time in Costa Rica, and I remember in detail the shape of his abs, the hardness of his biceps, and the V below his navel that tapered off into his shorts.
Asher is rock hard right now. I can feel him brushing against me through the lace and tulle of my dress.
As if he can read my thoughts, Ash sits up. His eyes intensely locked on mine while he pulls his shirt up over the top of his head. I come to my feet, reaching behind to unzip my dress. While still looking at him, I let it fall to the ground.
He shoves his pants down, and they puddle at his feet.
I unlatch my bra and take it off.
He slips out of his boxer briefs and tosses them aside.
I shimmy out of my panties and step out of them.
His eyes trail down my body, and I swear I can almost feel the touch. I am fully aware that this is a very Notebook moment. It’s not the exact same circumstances, but it is my first time. So I think the poetry of it is excusable, if not necessary.
“Jesus, Harper,” he says, his voice gravelly.
“What?” I ask, and my arms instinctively cross over my body.
“No. Don’t cover up. Never cover up. You’re stunning,” he says.
I take a step backward and lie back on the bed.
Asher walks towards me, taking me in again for a long moment.
He is in no hurry. He crawls onto the bed, hovering over me just enough that his skin brushes mine.
Then he kisses me on the mouth, then my forehead, my cheeks, my neck, my collarbones, the swell of my breasts.
Then he brings his hand to my breast, caressing one of them softly, letting his palm brush over my nipple, making it instantly hard. He covers the other one with his mouth, kissing it gently, pampering my nipple with his tongue.
“Oh…” I whimper, my eyes close, my back arches, and my hips grinding slowly into the air. Wanting attention. Needing him.
After that side has been adequately teased, he switches to the other side, doing the same thing. For a full five minutes, he goes back and forth, until I am moaning and quivering, teased to the point of writhing on the bed, but not enough to come.
I thank God when his mouth travels over my navel and further. He comes to his knees and takes my thighs in his arms, opening my legs so he can devour me.
And he does.
His mouth covers the hot, wet swell of my pussy, and his tongue laps up the length of me, dancing across my clit, sucking and licking until I moan.
I come for him, and still he licks and kisses, teasing me until I am clasping his hair in my hands. And then I come again.
After that, he stands up, looking down at me.
Every muscle in my body is warm, relaxed, and at ease.
I watch as Ash strokes himself, sliding his hand up and down over the shaft of his cock, his thighs tensing as his hand massages the head.
I remember just how sensitive it was and how easy it was to make him come when I teased it just right.
I swallow hard as he crawls on top of me. He uses one arm to brace his body above me. He uses his other hand to stroke himself. The entire time, his eyes are locked on mine.
“It might hurt a little,” he tells me in a low whisper.
“I know,” I tell him.
“I will go as slowly as you need. But you have to tell me what it is you need,” he says, and I nod.
I feel the tip of his dick circling my opening. I am already hot, ready, and so turned on. He presses the tip inside me, and then kisses me, just a peck at first. With his forehead against mine, he goes a little further, then further, then–
“Oh…” I gasp.
He stops. “Too much?”
I shake my head. It’s a lot, that’s for sure. This man is well-endowed. But even though I feel as though I am on fire, it’s a burn I want to fan into a flame.
Asher pulls out slightly, then presses back in. He does this over and over again, slowly, intentionally, until finally–
“I’m all the way inside you, baby girl,” he says, emitting a slow, satisfied breath.
“Do I feel good?” I ask. I always told myself I wouldn’t ask questions like that. That I didn’t need affirmation. But I want this to be good for both of us. I’m feeling a million things, and I want him to feel the same.
“Baby girl, you feel fucking incredible,” he says with a grin. “It isn’t just about me. I want you to enjoy it too.”
He reaches down and plays with my clit. He knows just what to do to make me come undone.
He drives me wild with just a flick of his fingers, and I think I just might come again.
And…I do. And when I do, he begins moving himself in and out of me.
The friction lights a trail of my nerves on fire, nerves I didn’t know I had.
“Oh, fuck,” I say, and he grins, his eyes wild.
“Yes?” he asks.
“Yes,” I nod. “Don’t stop.”
Ash continues to slide in and out of me, going a little deeper with each thrust. Finally, I wrap my legs around him and look him in the eyes. I am on the edge of an orgasm of a completely different caliber. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” I say again.
“I’m not,” he grunts.
“Ash…harder…” I tell him, and he picks up the pace, his hips driving against me with each thrust. I cry out as the orgasm rips through me, consuming me whole. A moment later, it grabs hold of him too, taking him down in the crash of the wave.
Ash rolls off me and falls onto the bed at my side, but he doesn’t close his eyes or turn away. Instead, he reaches for my hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.
“Are you okay?” he asks with concern in his tone.
I only smile at him. I roll onto my side to face him and nod. I can feel how flushed my cheeks are, and I am out of breath. But I am completely relaxed at the same time.
“Yes,” I tell him.
We kiss and turn out the lights.
The next morning feels like I’m in a romance novel. I wake up to sunshine and birds. I’m aware that I’m still in Denver, and it is still as cold as fuck outside. But in my old little apartment, it’s nice and toasty.
I notice the bedside next to me is empty and I get up, wrapping myself in my robe to investigate. As I leave the room, I step over the wedding dress and almost smile at the irony of it all. As I near the living room, I smell coffee and bacon, and bagels.
“Are you for real right now?” I ask. Ash is in the kitchen in his underwear.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he says. I round the counter to stand next to him.
“I’m having some serious déjà vu,” I tell him as he hands me a steaming mug of dark roast.
“Is that a bad thing?” he asks.
“Not at all. I just expected you’d be gone. Walk of shame, isn’t that what they call it?”
“Only if I have something to be ashamed of,” he tosses back. “And I don’t.”
I narrow my eyes at him, not sure what to make of all this. “So, what were you thinking then?” I ask.
“Breakfast,” he says, motioning around to the obvious.
“I see,” I nod, liking where this is going. “Breakfast, huh? That sounds so domestic.”
“Well,” he says, taking my cup from me and setting it on the counter so he can pull me into his arms. “I was thinking we could make this more of a regular thing. You and I.”
“You mean like…dating for real?” I ask.
Asher answers my question by smiling down at me. “What do you think?”
I look up at him and answer his question by kissing him.
Hard.