Chapter Eleven. Ember #3
I moan, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, and deliberately relax my body.
And shortly after, he slides balls-deep in one final thrust. He stills, kissing me like he can’t stand for us to not breathe the same air, and the intimacy of that kiss pricks my eyes.
No one has ever kissed me with such passion.
Made me feel so wanted, like I was their lifeline.
Because Asad doesn’t simply kiss with his mouth.
It’s with his body. With small caresses to my nose, cheek, hairline.
It’s murmured words of praise. It’s the brush of his body as if suffering even one second away from me is anathema to him.
That further cracks me open. Threatens to send everything spilling out in a chaotic, emotional mess.
“Asad. More. Please move and give me more,” I plead.
Bending his head, he sucks on my neck and slowly withdraws …
then slams back inside. I gasp, my pussy quivering at the rough, hard thrust. I claw at his arms, shoulders, ass, anywhere I can touch, grip.
Pleasure whistles through me, and I hike my legs higher, spread them wider, offering all of my pussy up to him.
He takes full advantage, pounding into me, and I feel him all in my stomach. Shit, I breathe this dick.
Asad leans back, and his hand dips between us, saturating his fingers in my wet. God yes. I tremble, hovering on that edge, ready to crash out. But then, without pausing in delivering long death strokes to my pussy, he shoves my legs back, curling me up so my thighs press into my stomach.
“Asad,” I whimper, but he shushes me, and I scratch at his arms. Ignoring me, he trails his damp fingertips over my spread-open pussy and lower to my asshole. “Asad.”
“You can take it, ma.” He presses a fingertip to my hole, not entering, just teasing with the threat of it. I stiffen, feminine anxiety and a little fear swirling and clenching my belly. “Unh-unh. Don’t do that. Relax and trust me, Ember.”
He slows his thrust, and instead of hard plunges, he switches to a slow, dirty grind, circling his hips, and each roll brushes my clit, ratcheting my arousal until I’m leaking. And those fingers are steadily circling, steadily pressing.
Then, as his dick rocks into me, his finger breaches the tight circle. Fire races through me, and I squeeze my eyes closed, crying out at the flash of pain. As quickly as it burned bright, the pain ebbs, settling into a burn. And a fullness that’s weird, but no longer painful.
“Gotdamn, you should see yourself. Pussy and ass stuffed. No going back, Ember.” My eyes jerk open at the dark, nearly ominous tone.
His silver gaze bores deep into mine. “You let someone else touch you, I’ll kill him and make you watch.
Don’t try me, Ember. This pussy is too good, and I’m too loose. I’ll crash out behind both of you.”
Being overfull steals any words I would’ve uttered. I should be afraid at his words, at the serious tone. But it’s not fear shivering under the overwhelming lust.
It’s … comfort.
Peace.
Security.
Jesus. What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with both of us?
He doesn’t give me time to wonder as he gently but firmly fucks my ass. Between his dick and his fingers, I’m spiraling into new territory, and a sob rips free of my throat.
“Unh-hunh,” he grunts, never stopping his sensual assault on my body and senses. “I feel that little pussy fluttering, getting ready to nut for me.”
One moment, he’s shoving me toward that precipice, and then in the next, he slows. I claw at his shoulders.
“Asad, move,” I whine.
“I got you, baby girl. But you have to do something for me, first.”
“Anything. Just, please…” I try to fuck him back, but the position won’t allow it. He holds all the control, and I’m almost feral with lust and pleasure.
“Did you go to Deacon’s tonight?” Another sob rips free as he flexes his finger in my ass, sending a bolt of lightning through me. “Did you?”
“Yes, shit, yes, I did,” I confess. “Please, finish.”
“Not yet, ma.” He circles his hips, and his dick hits a spot that has me arching as high as his hold will allow. My whole body shudders as pleasure ripples through me, and more juice seeps out of me, wetting both of us up. “Why? Why did you go there?”
I didn’t intend on talking about this, on even confessing the truth. But with that orgasm right on the horizon, pride abandons me without even the dignity of a wave goodbye.
“Because he fucked with you. He hurt you. I made him pay for it.” I dig my fingernails in his wrists, scratching at them. “Now, fuck me.”
“Look at me, Ember.” I open eyes I hadn’t realized had closed and meet that bright gaze. “Thank you.”
Tomorrow, this moment will seem too vulnerable, too fraught with … something I’d rather not acknowledge. But right now, I don’t care. Not when I’m half out of my mind.
“Come get this nut, ma. Come for me.”
As if his permission was all I needed, I detonate.
Explode. Hell, implode. My screams fill my head as I careen into oblivion.
He pounds me into the flames, granting my body no mercy, no quarter.
And as I tumble into the waiting darkness with arms wide open, I send up a silent prayer that he never does.
That he will always want me with this abandon.
This need. This hunger. Because I fear I will always need him.