Chapter 22 #2
Me
It’s new. But it’s definitely a no-strings sort of thing.
Pres
Are you sure?
Am I sure? I hesitate before answering.
Does it matter?
Me
Yeah. This was always meant to be temporary.
Pres
Take it from someone who’s been in your shoes. Sometimes the things you never planned for in life turn out to be exactly what you need.
We say our goodbyes just as Asher steps into the main cabin, his towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Water droplets fall from his hair down his chest, over the family crest on his skin.
He’s written dozens of songs over the years, but someone should write one about him…because he is breathtaking.
“You can’t keep looking at me like that,” he says, breaking the silence in the room. His voice is gritty as I look up to meet his tortured gaze.
“Why?”
He steps forward, then hesitates and stops. “Because it makes me want things I don’t think you’re ready for.”
Now it’s me who takes a step closer. It seems to make his breath catch in his throat. “Like what?” I ask.
His throat bobs as his gaze slowly sweeps over every inch of me. It feels possessive. Heated. “Like letting go of this towel and watching you drop to your knees before me.”
The idea both excites and terrifies me. I wonder how many other women have pleasured him this way. It’s not out of jealousy that drives my thoughts, but a sense of inadequacy.
When he’s in charge and touching me, it’s easier to let go and focus on the way he makes me feel rather than on my lack of experience. But if I’m the one in control, will it be glaringly obvious that I have no idea what I’m doing? What if he hates it?
What if he loves it?
I fight a flutter of nerves and lift my chin. “Teach me?”
“Christ, love,” he breathes out, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I take a tentative step forward. “Is that a yes?”
His lips quirk. “Are you going to be good and listen?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He motions with a flick of his chin. “Lose the shirt.”
A thrill runs through me as heat pulses through my veins. I love this side of him, the slightly bossy, domineering side I’ve only just met since we decided to get physical.
Doing as I’m told, I grab the hem of my T-shirt and slowly pull it up over my head. I hear his sharp inhale before the shirt even hits the floor.
Oh, did I forget to mention I’m not wearing a bra?
“Jesus, you’re fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he rasps, taking a purposeful step forward and closing the gap that separates us.
My heart races in my chest, but it’s fear that makes my pulse quicken. It’s that familiar feeling I’ve had almost every day since he pulled up next to me all those weeks ago.
Excitement mixed with…anticipation.
I reach out, placing my palm on his hard chest, right over that family crest I’ve been aching to touch.
His heart is racing too.
“That day at the loch,” he says, glancing down at my splayed fingertips with an intense gaze. “You showed me your family tattoo. Do you remember?”
I nod. I was so nervous and scared, but also exhilarated to do something bold and spontaneous. That’s why he took me to the lake that day, after all.
But he didn’t notice how my hands trembled as I took off my sweater and pulled my dress over my head. Or the way my pulse doubled when he looked up at me, standing there in my bra and underwear, wondering if I’d made some horrible mistake.
But then he stood up, met my gaze, and I saw the heat in his eyes.
Just as I do now.
“I got a little distracted that day.” He smirks, biting his bottom lip as his gaze drifts down to my bare breasts, the nipples pebbled and tight, before returning, “But before I threw us into the loch, I was going to share a secret with you.”
“A secret for a secret, right?” I told him that one of the reasons I loved the placement of my family tattoo was that it felt like a little secret. My little secret.
He grins. “Right. But I never gave you mine.”
“I seem to remember it involved pants.”
He chuckles. “More like the lack of pants, to be exact.”
Now it’s my turn to let my eyes wander freely down his gorgeous body. He’s gained back the weight he lost before I came. His lean body is defined in all the right places—toned abs, chiseled biceps, and cut hips that almost have me drooling.
I reach for the towel knotted there, and when our eyes meet, I give it a gentle tug. The sound of it hitting the floor makes my stomach clench.
I venture a look down, and the first thing I see is—
“Is that a…cupcake?”
“It is,” he says with a smug grin. We both look down, and I try to focus on one thing at a time.
Because holy shit, his dick is right there.
But, yep, right there on his right hip is a small and cutesy tattoo of a cupcake.
Happy face and all. “Now you know my secret. Asher Knight has a cupcake tattoo.”
“A cupcake tattoo right next to his dick, I might add.”
“Fairly certain it’s on my hip, but I can see how the massive size of my dick could confuse you.”
I can’t help but sneak another peek. He isn’t lying. And I know my knowledge of this subject is rather limited, but I still know how to spot a well-endowed man when I see him.
And Asher has been blessed.
Yay for me.
“So how exactly did you end up getting this cupcake tattoo on your hip…next to your massive dick?” I ask with a grin.
His finger reaches out to grip my chin, angling it upward so I can meet his heated gaze. My belly flips. “I’d love to tell you all about it, but right now I can’t think of anything but how badly I want to fuck that mouth of yours.”
I’m not really sure how to respond to that. Yes, please? No, that sounds dumb, so I just do what I’ve been dying to do for weeks and slowly drop to my knees in front of him.
His eyes never leave mine.
Despite my uncertainty, I feel like I could probably give a decent blowjob. I’ve read enough spicy romance books by now to serve as a basic how-to guide for the beginning at this point.
But I don’t want to give an average blow job I pieced together from random books.
I want to blow his mind—pun intended.
“Show me how you like it.”
“Having you right there is a solid start,” he says, reaching down to grasp the base of his cock. “Give me your hand.”
I do, and he places it where his was. The skin is silky and warm under my fingers, and then his hand wraps over mine and squeezes.
“Start like this,” he says in a raspy voice as he slowly starts to guide our hands down his hard length and back again. “Tease me a little while you touch yourself.”
If one thing can be said about me, it’s that I’m a fast learner. I rise up on my knees and get my breast a squeeze with my free hand. His eyes flare as I pinch my nipple and give it a twist.
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “I want to touch you so fucking much right now. But if I do, I won’t last another minute.”
“That’s okay.” I’ve been dying to have his hands on me again anyway.
“No.” He smirks, removing his hand so I’m left all on my own. “I promised you a lesson.”
“Well, my tutors all say I’m very studious.”
“Kind of bratty too.” I give him a tight squeeze, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. “Jesus, Merc. I need your mouth on me.”
I’m pretty sure we’re the worst role players ever because the student-teacher thing gets dropped the minute my lips wrap around his cock.
“Fucking hell,” he groans as his knees nearly buckle. He braces himself on a chair nearby as I do my best to fit all of him into my mouth.
It is not easy.
I’m pretty sure I gag.
“Slow at first,” he instructs, then he takes my hand and uses it to cup his balls. This may be my first time, but I don’t need any further instructions. I start to squeeze and fondle them while my mouth works his length. When my tongue swirls over the sensitive tip, he lets out a string of curses.
Feeling emboldened, I hollow out my cheeks and pick up the pace. His hand finds the top of my head, and I hear him mutter, “So good. So fucking good.”
I gag a few more times, but at this point, I don’t care. I’m so turned on by the sight of him, by how feral and unhinged he looks.
All because of me.
A familiar ache settles between my legs, and it’s so intense that I start to squirm beneath him.
“Do you need to touch yourself, love?”
My cheeks turn red, and I slightly shake my head.
“Aye, another lesson to add to the list.” His fingers dig into my hair as the tendons in his neck bulge. “Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to take care of you in the meantime.”
Memories echo in my mind of his hand working my pussy as I climaxed for the first time in the back of that limo.
Twice.
I’m nearly vibrating from the anticipation of a third.
“Your mouth is incredible, Merc,” he groans out. “Will you let me fuck it?”
I give a little nod, surprising him when I flatten out my tongue and relax my jaw.
Yeah, I know stuff.
His mouth quirks a split second before he thrusts forward, showing me no mercy.
I’m glad. I don’t want any.
He pistons into my mouth over and over, as if he’s possessed. I moan, the friction between my legs so intense it feels nearly unbearable. I never thought this would be so hot.
“Oh, fuck, Merc. Fuck, I’m gonna come—” he warns me in case I’m not ready or willing for this next part, but I’m feeling so sure of myself, so gloriously confident that I wrap my arms around his thick thighs to hold him steady until he fists my hair and lets out a guttural groan, emptying himself down my throat.
I take it all as he watches me swallow every drop.
I feel like a woman reborn. Especially when I look up to him and say with a wicked grin, “My turn.”