Chapter 20
Charlotte
The resort’s charity event wrapped hours ago, yet adrenaline still thrums through me like a second heartbeat.
I can’t stop smiling. The boardroom, the gala tent, the way Asher stood at my side tightening his cufflinks—every moment sparkled brighter than the chandeliers overhead.
Now the laughter and applause are just echoes behind us, and I step onto our suite’s balcony to catch a breath of salt-sweet night air.
The sky is a velvety blue-black, the moon a pearly orb high above. Below, lantern-lit pathways wind through gardens that shimmer with reflections of orchids and palms. Beyond that, the ocean yawns wide and dark, its gentle waves murmuring secrets to the shore.
Asher appears behind me, silent as a shadow. He hasn't touched me yet. He just stands close enough that I feel his warmth brushing my back. My pulse stutters in anticipation.
“I thought you might want to use the balcony for some… self-defense training,” he murmurs, voice low and intimate.
I turn to face him, laughter bubbling up. “Self defense? Now, after four courses of caviar and champagne?”
He smiles, tracing the line of my jaw with the tip of a finger. “You never know who might try to sneak a taste of you.”
I shiver as his thumb sweeps across my skin. “Am I in danger?” I tease.
Asher doesn’t answer directly. Instead, he steps behind me, pressing me gently against the balcony railing so his chest warms my back. He inhales softly, lips grazing the nape of my neck. “You smell incredible,” he breathes.
I tilt my head, giving him a sliver of space, and run my fingertips lightly across his forearm. “I used that new lavender-sandalwood lotion you like.” I laugh, heart fluttering. “So… aren’t you supposed to be teaching me self-defense moves?”
His arms circle my waist, hands resting low at my hips, thumbs brushing the curve of my butt. He growl-laughs softly. “I can’t help it.”
His confession hits me like a spark. My body ignites, needy and alive. I lean back into him, closing the circle between us. “I can’t help it either.”
His fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress, grazing the creamy skin of my lower back. I gasp, a hot, sharp sound. He smiles against my neck, then draws back to see the effect he’s having on me.
“Ready for your first lesson?” he asks, voice husky.
I turn in his arms, hands coming up to rest on his chest. “Only if it involves you.”
Asher’s gaze darkens, molten with desire. “Say the word.”
I trace one finger along his sternum, memorizing the path. “Teach me.” My breath catches on the words.
He steps back, raising his hands in a mock-kata stance. “First lesson: always be aware of your surroundings.” He moves close again, pressing into me. “But right now, your surroundings include me.”
He sweeps an arm behind me, tracing a line across my ribs, eliciting a soft moan. “Second lesson: use your leverage. Your strong points.” His free hand finds the curve of my hip, gripping firmly to guide me. “Can you feel where your strength lies?”
I shiver, leaning back into his palm. “Yes,” I whisper, “right here—where you hold me.”
He smiles, amusement and lust mingling in his eyes. “Excellent. Third lesson: if you must… strike.”
His other hand lifts to my shoulder, palm pressing flat. He bows his head close, wiping his lips across the sensitive spot where my collarbone meets neck. The sensation is deliciously distracting.
“Strike me,” I challenge softly, “and see how hard you can hit.”
Asher pauses, eyes smoldering. He grips my shoulder lightly, then tilts forward, pressing a searing kiss along the plane of my neck. My world narrows to the taste of him, the press of his lips. When he finally pulls away, he grins.
“That wasn’t a strike,” he murmurs, voice thick.
“No,” I counter, stepping forward so our bodies come flush. “But I want to learn.”
He sweeps my hair aside and lowers his mouth to mine—long, slow, tender at first, then deepening with hungry confidence. His tongue slides along mine, teasing, exploring, sending white-hot sparks through my veins. My hands clutch his button-down, savoring the firmness beneath my palms.
I return his kiss with equal fervor, meeting him mouth to mouth, matching his rhythm. The night air flushes my senses as he guides me backward until my back skims the edge of the balcony railing. The lights below flicker like stars scattered on water, but all I see is Asher, framed in moonlight.
He pulls back for air, forehead resting against mine. “One more lesson,” he breathes.
I shake with anticipation. “Yes.”
He sweeps an arm behind me and, in one fluid motion, lifts me onto the railing so I’m perched tall, legs wrapped around his waist for balance. My heart hammers—both from rush of wind, of illicit thrill, and fear of falling. He steadies me, hands strong at my hips.
“Never be afraid to put yourself in a position of power,” he says, voice low and intimate. “Balance. Strength. Focus.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close until our bodies are one. “And…fear?” I whisper.
His hands tighten, grounding me. “Fear is a tool, if you manage it. It tells you what matters.”
My pulse roars at his nearness. “You matter,” I whisper.
He crushes me to him, capturing my mouth in a heated, relentless kiss. Every nerve ignites. A fleeting thought enters my mind: What if we fall? but it dissipates in the warmth of his arms.
He finally tilts me down until my feet touch the floor, then steps back. My dress falls around my ankles, and he steps forward, brushing his thumb across my lips to catch the taste of me.
“That’s how you turn fear into adrenaline,” he says, lowering his gaze to my skin. “Into desire.”
I swallow, voice husky. “I’m ready… for the next lesson.”
He lifts me effortlessly and places me on the chaise lounge, then moves to adjust the cushions so I’m comfortable. He moves in behind me, slipping his arms beneath my arms to pull me into his front. I rest my head against his chest, hearing the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
We sit in quiet communion for a moment, the world hushed except for the gentle whoosh of ocean waves beyond the palm trees. Then he leans down and brushes another, tender kiss across my temple.
“Lesson four,” he murmurs. “Trust.”
I look up at him, heart full. “I trust you.”
He smiles, arms tightening. “Good. Because I’ll always be here to catch you.”
I reposition myself to where I’m straddling his lap. “I want you to catch me,” I tell him, truthfully. Maybe this whole thing started out as pretend, but I’m no longer pretending.
Not anymore.
I grind my hips against his lap, and I feel his dick stir to life, hardening right before me. I place my hand over the ridge of his dress slacks. “I want this,” I tell him, feeling bolder than I ever have.
I’ve never been the type of woman to ask for what I want, but with him, right here and now, I feel that bravery. He makes me feel it. I undo his pants, pulling at the material of his briefs so I can free his dick.
His mighty dick that stands so full and ready. It’s hands down the biggest I’ve ever seen. I grip my hand around it, squeezing gently as I move my hand up his shaft.
He groans, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Your touch should be illegal.”
I smile, loving the way this man makes me feel. Makes me feel so wanted and adored. I’ve never felt this way before. “Fuck me right here,” I tell him, no longer caring if anyone walks by.
He sits up a little, his eyes scanning the courtyard below. He’s always assessing. Will never do anything without calculating all risks involved.
I lean close to his ear, and lick the shell of it. “Come on. Live a little,” I whisper, and his hands tighten their grip on my hips. “Fuck me right now, Asher.”
He pulls back a little so I can look into his eyes. “Look at you begging for my dick.”
I smile, licking my lips. “Please, Asher. Please, fuck me.” I’d beg for him any day.
He hooks his thumbs under the hem of my dress and lifts it in one smooth motion, the fabric sliding over my skin and settling onto the ground. He pauses, taking me in—moonlight tracing the curve of my hips, the line of my waist, the gentle swell of my breasts.
He arches a brow. “No bra?”
“The dress looked better without it,” I murmur, voice soft.
A slow, appreciative smile spreads across his face. “I enjoy taking those off you.”
I lean forward, brushing my lips along his jaw. “Next time,” I whisper, breath warm against his skin.
His grin widens. “Now where were we?” He settles his hands on my hips. “Oh, yes, you were begging for me to fuck you.”
I bite my lower lip. “Yes, sir.”
He tugs me closer. “I love it when you call me that.”
I laugh lightly. “Fuck me, sir. Command me.”
“I want you begging to ride my cock. You wanna beg for that?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I do.”
He trails kisses along the column of my throat. “Well, start begging. Tell me what you want, Charlotte.”
I lean back, letting his kisses turn more possessive as he reaches my breasts. He closes his mouth over one nipple, biting down, causing me to cry out in pain and pleasure. I don’t even know which. All I know is I want more of it. More. “More,” I whisper out. “So much more.”
He positions his dick at my entrance, and I slide down over it, taking deep breaths as he fills me up. I’ve never been with anyone this big, and it takes a full minute to acclimate to his size again.
I gently rock my hips forward, letting his dick go deeper inside me. “Ah,” I moan out.
“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes, his voice low and gravelly.
We take our time with each other, letting our bodies rock gently together as our mouths connect. We kiss lazily, until a need—a fire—ignites deep within me.
I punch my hips forward, picking up my speed as I ride his dick. I keep moving, grinding against him.
Asher smiles, wrapping a hand around my hair, creating a ponytail. “Look at somebody getting impatient.”
“I need to come,” I whine.
He tugs my hair, bringing my head back slightly. He sinks his teeth into my neck, sucking my skin into his mouth. Marking me. “I know you do, pretty girl.” He keeps sucking, and I try to move a little.
“Don’t mark me,” I tell him, thinking about what everyone would say if I come down to breakfast tomorrow with a giant hickey on my neck.
“I won’t,” he whispers as he releases my skin, looking to make sure he hasn’t left a mark. “I’d never.” He lowers his head, clasping his mouth around my breast, his tongue working my hardened nipple between his teeth. “Now keep riding me. Show me how badly you need to come all over me.”
I pick up my pace, riding him with wild abandon. I need my orgasm like I need my next breath, however Asher doesn’t move.
He almost looks pained as he watches me bounce up and down on him. “Keep riding me.”
“Why aren’t you moving?” I ask him. “Why aren’t you fucking me?”
“Because you haven’t begged me to,” he whispers.
I stall my movements, my eyes connecting with his. I place a hand over his chest as my other hand cups his cheek. “Fuck me, Asher. Fuck me as hard as you can. I want you begging me to come inside me. Please, oh please. Asher, please fuck me.”
His eyes turn charcoal black as his dick thumps low inside me. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, please,” my voice is high-pitched as I beg. “Please, fuck me.”
He tosses me off him, placing my back flat against the lounge chair. He lifts my legs over his shoulders, and slams back into me.
Ah, now I asked for it.