Chapter 33 Brianna
Brianna
Tell me your dick is small without telling me your dick is small
“Tell me, how have you been since our last session?” Dr. Jacqui asks.
“I’ve been good. Everything with my parents went well. Sharing everything with them felt freeing. I went into it afraid they’d judge and hate me, but none of that happened.”
“That’s fantastic, Bri. Expressing your feelings isn’t easy, and you did it anyway. You really seem to be taking charge of your life again. It’s wonderful to witness. Have you talked to your brother yet?”
“No. I’m still working up to that one, but I drove myself to therapy today.”
“Is this the first time you’ve driven since the incident?”
“It’s my first time driving myself to therapy, but it’s not my first time behind the wheel. Another thing that Asher has been helping me with.”
I explain how Asher has been working with me to overcome my fear of driving and how extremely patient he’s been with me.
I’m sure my cheeks are hella red with how much I gush about him.
But what’s not to swoon over? The man is a literal book boyfriend.
After years of pinning after imaginary men, I found myself a real one.
“That’s wonderful. It sounds like you are choosing to not let fear control you anymore. How does that feel?” she asks.
“It’s amazing. The initial shock has worn off, but it’s still nerve-wracking at times. It’s something I’m continually trying to bulldoze my way through. Asher just makes it even better.”
“I love this for you. Now, what’s your plan with Max?”
Ugh, she always brings it back to the topic at hand. I mean, am I surprised? That’s what therapy is for.
“I’m still trying to figure that out, but Asher promised to come with me for extra support.”
“That’s wonderful. I know we’ve been working on preparing you for phase three of EMDR. You’re doing a lot of the heavy lifting already, and I’m so proud of all the work you’ve put in already.”
I made the decision to try EMDR a few sessions ago.
The more research I did, the more I felt like this was the final step in healing for me.
I don’t want what happened to me to take over my entire life.
I’ve learned a lot about myself during this whole experience.
Things that have opened my eyes to issues that I never really thought about before.
I have always been someone who thrives off control.
I tend to gravitate toward the role of the leader.
I just never really understood why. If things didn’t go a certain way, that’s when my imposter syndrome kicked in.
In order to avoid that, I always made sure everything was planned out.
And then when everything happened, my entire world was flipped upside down.
Nothing in my life was mine anymore, and trying to come to terms with that has been hard to wrap my head around.
“Yeah, it’s been exhausting…this healing thing,” I joke, which makes my therapist laugh.
“Yeah, it’s definitely not easy. How are you coping with everything? What are you doing for self-care?”
“I’ve been reading again,” I say, my eyes flicking to my hands fidgeting in my lap.
"It's something me and Asher have been doing together every night, actually." I pause, sucking in a breath, knowing the bomb I am about to drop.
"We lay with each other every night. He kept the books I donated months ago and..." Just say it, Bri. SAY IT!
"And I even asked him to move in with me."
Butterflies erupt in my stomach, taking flight and bringing every loving emotion with them.
"Bri," she begins. I wait for her to scold me, judge me, tell me it's too soon. "That's amazing. I am so happy for you."
She reaches over and squeezes my hand, and for the first time in ages, I feel light as a feather.
Who knew having a partner who reads alongside you could carry as many benefits as it does?
I’ve always had a CVS receipt-sized list of things I’ve wanted to try that I read about in my smutty books.
And with Asher, a fellow avid reader, I get to explore an even kinkier side of me.
Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he highlights the things in his books that he wants to try with me.
Thinking about the first time we ever brought a fictional scene to life has me squirming in my seat.
My mock fireplace is turned on. Fuzzy gray socks decorate my feet, keeping them nice and toasty. A beach-scented candle provides a soft glow throughout the room, bathing the space in sea salt and orange blossom.
A cozy, soft, blue crochet blanket is draped over our laps as I’m curled up against Asher while we read.
This has become a staple in our Sunday evening ritual, and there’s no place I’d rather be.
Normally, we try to read the same book—it’s more fun that way.
But I’ve had the latest Ari Wright book on my Kindle for ages, and I just couldn’t wait any longer.
And boy, am I glad I did. It takes every cell of my being not to squirm on the couch—especially with Asher sitting next to me.
We’ve tried out so many different positions.
Some that still have me blushing whenever I think about it.
Despite how much he loves to worship my body, I can’t gather up the courage to play out a particular fantasy of mine.
Any romance reader will tell you that there are some scenes in books they want to recreate in reality. But not the dark romance ones, because green flags in those books are walking red flags in real life. I like a little pain, but I don’t think I can stomach the shit that goes down in those books.
Anyway, as an avid reader of romance, I have had a few sections in books annotated with the hope that one day, I’d find a partner who’d want to reenact it with me.
I’ve been shot down many times—by many different men.
Something about how it’s unrealistic of me to have those expectations.
Like, tell me your dick is small without telling me it’s small.
So, since Asher and I got together, the request has been sitting on the tip of my tongue.
I’ve just never had the courage to do something about it.
Asher’s body shifts next to me as he places his book on the coffee table before us.
“Bri, I can practically hear you thinking out loud. Care to share your thoughts?”
I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth as I contemplate whether or not I ask him. I glance down at the page I’ve been rereading before glancing into his gorgeous blue eyes. I can do this. The worst he can say is no, but somehow, I highly doubt he will.
“I’ve been wanting to try something. And before you say no, I just want you to hear me out, okay?”
“Bear, you could ask me to walk on a pile of Legos barefoot, and I’d do it.”
“That’s a tad dramatic, but okay. Well, I know you read spicy books like me, and I’ve always wanted to try and maybe…you know, recreate a scene. I don’t know…it’s just an idea.”
My face flushes with embarrassment, and I refuse to look at his face. I check my nailbeds, which are in desperate need of some TLC. I pick invisible lint off of my leggings. I’m determined to keep my eyes fixated on my lap, but a warm hand cups my cheek, forcing me to meet his eyes.
It’s there that I see blown-out pupils and a rapid pulse fluttering at the base of his neck. All telltale signs of a man turned on. I open my mouth to speak, but Asher beats me to the punch, uttering words I didn’t know I needed until now.
“I thought you’d never ask.” I all but throw myself on his lap before crushing my lips to his, my Kindle tumbling to the floor with a soft thump. Asher’s hands are on my hips, preventing me from seeking the friction I crave, and it’s him who breaks the kiss first.
“As much as I love watching you get yourself off, you asked me to do something. Let me see the scene you want to recreate.”
Grinning like a madwoman, I grab my e-reader off the floor and pull up the scene I was just reading.
I watch as his eyes rapidly flicker over the Kindle, reading the scene where the MMC takes his girl's throat ruthlessly while controlling her pussy with a vibrator. There’s something sexy about watching a man you love reading a dirty sex scene.
What’s even hotter is knowing he’s about to do said ungodly things to you.
Asher practically growls the second he shuts the Kindle off before tossing it on the couch. I let out a loud squeal when he flips our position—with me underneath him. He looks at me with such intensity that I could come right now.
“Give me a few minutes. But when I come back, you better be naked and on your knees for me like the dirty girl you are.”
The second he leaves the room, my clothes practically fly off me.
Just knowing that he’s going to get my favorite vibrator—the one that he can control—has me so wound up it borders on painful.
It sounds like a stampede with how fast and hard Asher is running down the stairs, and when he looks at my current position, his smirk almost does me in. Almost.
He tosses the vibrator at me, and I waste no time inserting it inside of me, relishing in the delicious pressure it gives.
All the while, Asher is practically ripping the seams of his sweats with how fast he yanks them down his body.
He fists his cock, pumping up and down, and my mouth waters. Fuck.
Asher saunters over to me, cock in one hand, remote control in the other.
I stare at the bead of pre-cum that shines at his tip, and I want to lap it up so fucking bad.
He must sense this because his cock is now a paintbrush—my lips the canvas.
There’s no mirror here, but I’m sure my lips are wet with his arousal.
“Lick your lips.”
A simple, yet arousal-inducing request. A request I waste no time completing.
The saltiness hits my tongue, and the vibrator shifts with how fucking slick I am.
I have zero time to process anything because Asher has turned my vibrator on to its lowest setting.
The delicious buzzing sensation lights my body up like the Fourth of July.
“Good girl. You’re about to suck my cock while I control your pussy, aren't you?”
I moan in response, which isn’t good enough for him because he’s upped the intensity. So much so that my hips involuntarily buck forward.
“Use your words, baby.”
“Ye-Yes.”
“Good girl, now open up and let me in. I’m gonna fuck you until your throat is raw before coating it with my cum.
” A shiver runs down my spine. I glance up at him underneath my lashes and open as wide as I can.
The moment my lips wrap around him, I hum, knowing he loves it when I do that.
I guess this is the right move because he begins to fuck my face just the way I like it: fast, rough, and dirty.
“Look at you. Sitting pretty on your knees for me. Such a good girl.” I make that humming noise again and am rewarded with the vibrator hitting my favorite setting.
Buzzing sounds mixed with hips thrusting and the occasional gagging are the perfect soundtrack for this moment.
Fuck. I should have asked to do something like this sooner because damn, it’s hot.
My hips begin to rock as I chase the impending orgasm that I feel bubbling at the base of my spine.
When I look up at Asher, his head is thrown back in complete bliss—his face contorted in a familiar way.
He’s close to coming. I’m close to coming.
I reach out to cup his balls, and his fingers accidentally—maybe not so accidentally—push the remote to the highest level it can go.
Soon, salty, hot liquid is spilling down my throat while I scream around Asher’s cock.
His hips jerk a few times before he pulls out of me.
I barely have the vibrator out of me when he’s pulling me up by my neck and pushing me onto the couch.
He gets down on his knees, forcing my legs apart, and he shoots me a wicked grin before diving between my legs.
He laps up my arousal like a thirsty dog.
My already sensitive clit is throbbing, and when he pulls it between his teeth, I find myself experiencing another mind-numbing, earth-shattering orgasm.
I’m a sweaty, panting mess by the time he removes himself from my legs.
“W-What was that for?”
“Your cum is mine. And I’d rather die than let a single drop of it be wasted on anything other than my tongue.”
I pull him into me for a bruising kiss, mixing both of our arousals together. The taste of us is pure, raw, and incredible. A perfect cocktail.
“There. Now our tastes are intertwined.” My grin is probably cheesy, but I couldn’t care less.
Asher’s wicked grin has my sensitive core pulsing. The feel of his lips trailing along my jawline has my skin breaking out in thousands of goosebumps. I suck in a sharp gasp at the delicious pain of him nipping at my earlobe before whispering in my ear:
“I think we found our new Sunday tradition.”
Damn it.
Now I’m so fucking turned on, in therapy, and it’s borderline painful.
Deep breaths, Bri. Look at where you are. There’s a time and a place to think dirty thoughts, and your therapist's office isn’t one of them. Wait, what were we talking about? Oh, right. Books. Asher helping me. Me asking him to move in. Focus, Bri, focus.
I allow my mind to focus on the words my therapist is saying and not on the dirty replaying of that fantasy.
“You’re making some big life changes, are you ready for all that?
” Out of all the decisions that I’ve made, this one is the easiest. I like who I am with him.
Asher brings out the parts of me I love, parts I thought I’d forever lost. He’s become such an important part of my life, and I don’t know who I’d be without him.
“I am. He’s been an integral part of my healing journey, and I can’t imagine doing life without him.”
“That’s great. So, how are we feeling about diving into some of the memory stuff? We’ve been teetering between phases one and two for a while, and I think you’re ready to start reprocessing. Before we begin, I want to check in with you to see where you are.”
“I’m ready. The accident won’t be erased from my mind, but I don’t want to be within its chokehold any longer.”
“That’s understandable, so let’s plan to start next week. Until then, keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll see you next week.”
I leave the parking lot with a smile on my face and a raging pulsing sensation between my legs. I know just the person for the job.