12. Asher
TWELVE
Asher
I shift Wiley back onto her hands and knees as the last of her aftershocks rock her body. After every one of them, she releases this shuddering breath, and I could listen to it all fucking day. Every damn thing about Wiley Nolan is perfect. Everything .
She watches over her shoulder as I slide the condom over my cock, stroking myself. “Do that again.”
“Do what?” she asks, one eyebrow rising.
“Bit your lip while you watch me,” I instruct.
“Then stroke your cock and I will,” she counters and I do as she asks, the veins in my forearm protruding with my vice-like grip.
When her teeth sink into her bottom lip, I eat it up. She strokes my ego even more as her mouth falls open in pleasure when I swipe my cock through her pussy, coating it. “Still so fucking wet, little wildling.”
“That’s because I’m still so fucking horny, Asher,” she breathes, rocking back against me.
“Let me fix that for you, huh?” Bracing one hand on her hip, I hook my thumb into her G-string and hold it aside, dipping the head of my cock into her tight entrance, releasing my own shuddering breath.
Keep your shit together, Asher . I warn myself, the idea of sinking into her on one stroke, the only thought taking over. When she edges herself back more, I work hard to not to let her. “Slowly, baby.”
I’ve got a big dick. There’s no if’s and’s or but’s about it. Some guys think it’s a blessing. Most of the time, it’s a curse. Most of the women I’ve been with eye off my cock like a fucking meal, but soon realise it’s more than they can take. It’s not like I don’t enjoy myself with women, because I fucking have. But it’s not always all of me. Hell, ninety percent of the time, if I’m being honest. I don’t want to push Wiley past what she can take—for now. She might not know it yet, but I don’t want any other woman…ever, so we have plenty of time to work up to all of me.
“Asher,” she pants, and I stop, letting her adjust, and reach around to tease her clit gently. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“I thought that was supposed to be my line.” I laugh, gripping her hip and easing in a little more. “It does feel so fucking good.”
After pausing for another moment, Wiley eases back again, but I see her fingers digging into the chair. Leaning over her, my height an advantage, I whisper against her ear, “Even this much is more than I hoped for, baby. Like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Lavishing kisses down her neck, I notice her fingers are still digging into the chair. When she pushes herself back more, her tight fucking channel gripping my cock fucking bliss, I’m tempted to stop the whole damn thing.
“Wiley,” I growl in warning.
“No, Asher, I’m okay,” she pants, shifting her body, even more of my cock sliding inside. “God, fuck. Yes!”
Taking her lead, I start sliding in and out of her, up to a point. She lays her head down on the seat, thrusting her ass up even higher as she moans her pleasure. “You’re doing so good, baby. The way you’re taking my cock.”
“I want all of you inside me, Asher.” On her words, she slides back even further, her legs shaking.
“Wiley, you don’t have to prove anything to me.” Gripping her hips, I stop her from moving, but when she clenches her walls around me, I know I’ve left marks on her sun-kissed skin.
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” she says over her shoulder, her skin glowing. “I want you, Asher. All of you. I know my pussy was made to take you. Do you trust me?”
“Yes!” I grind out as she starts to rock on me, slowly at first, but as she increases her tempo, her breathing does too and we both hear the droplets of her arousal hitting the leather.
“Tell me how good I feel, Asher. Tell me I’m a good girl.”
Fuck! Me!
“If we weren’t on this plane, you’d be fucking screaming my name,” I promise, my hips working not to thrust deep inside her. Wrapping her hair around my hands, I tug her head back, her body coming with her. “Now show me what a good fucking girl you are. Take all of my cock.”
Delight. Pleasure. Pride. Fuck all three spark in her eyes as I allow her to ease back at her own pace. When her ass hits my stomach and sweat beads on both of us, she looks back at me.
“That’s my good girl, you take my cock so well,” I praise, releasing her hair and gripping her throat so I can claim her mouth.
“Asher,” she pants into our kiss, the walls of her cunt holding me so tight. “Fuck me. Please.”
“Baby, the way you ask so nicely. I could never refuse. But first let’s get rid of this.” Tearing the flimsy material of her lace G-string, Wiley’s squeak of shock is cute as fuck. Discarding it, I position her hands and hips on the seat and fuck her just the way she asked me to.
I’m pretty bloody sure the whole damn plane can hear us, the way our skin slaps together. Wiley’s moans and curses. The way she begs me to fuck her harder. Not to mention my own growls and rumbles as she reaches between us and fucking fondles my balls.
“The way your pussy takes my cock, baby, it’s the best fucking thing I’ve seen in my entire life,” I manage to groan out as I watch my cock slide all the way into her. “Play with your clit, Wiley.”
My thoughts are scattered and unorganised as I get closer and I wonder if Wiley’s experiencing the same sensation overload as me. When she does as I asked, that familiar pull in my balls and the strain in my back begin to grow, I realise I need more connection.
Pulling out, Wiley’s moans stop and she spins around on her knees to face me. Her chest is heaving, but fuck if she isn’t the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth with her cheeks flushed, her hair sweat dampened and her lips full and kiss bruised. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything is perfect,” I kiss her. “I…I wanna see your face when you come, Wiley.”
“I don’t know who the hell brought you into my world, Asher Scott, but thank fuck they did.” Kissing me back, she shifts back on the seat, lying down.
Moving over her, I press the head of my cock to her entrance, her mouth falling open in this perfect O shape, and I slide back in her. As we find a rhythm, Wiley hooks one leg over my hip, our bodies moving together as if we were two parts finally made whole. I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life.
Yeah, I’ve sought my pleasure and I’m not ashamed of it. This thing with Wiley. It’s different. Worlds apart from just sexual pleasure and release.
“Asher,” she whispers, one hand skimming along my cheek to curl into my hair, tugging at the longer strands. “I…I…”
“Me too,” I pant as her words trail off, our eyes locked.
Wiley tightens around me, the nails of her other hand digging into my back and it sparks my own release; both of us somehow frozen in time. When her eyes flutter, her body jerking a little with wave after wave of pleasure, I’m tempted to just drink in what I’ve done to her. But this is different.
“That’s it, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock.” Her orgasm keeps rolling and my climax is heightened, my heart like a fucking freight train in my chest. “Good girl, now breathe for me.”
Depositing kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat, she holds me closer and I know I could stay like this forever. It’s crystal fucking clear I feel more for Wiley than just sexual attraction.
“Thank you,” she murmurs sleepily, and I rearrange our bodies—her back to my front, my arms wrapped around her—discarding the condom.
“For what?” I mutter against her still heated skin.
“For being you.”
Before I can ask her what she means, her body relaxes in mine and her eyes drift closed. Whatever she meant, I pray being me is enough because I’m so far gone on her. I’m the ninety-metre sprint down the field. The win against all odds. The intercept try. The forward pass that no one catches until it’s too late. She’s my grand-final win and I don’t think I want to do any of it without her. No, I fucking know I don’t.
I love Wiley Nolan! I hope she feels the same way because I’m not letting her go!
The rest of the flight is spent laughing and talking. Wiley explaining how she and Ines set this whole thing up with the help of Simon, Ines’s fiancé and Ursula, the hostess. I can’t believe the lengths she went to, but I’m so fucking grateful.
Her confession at guesstimating my cock size and buying a dildo to match, just so she could take me. Fuck! I made her promise to show me when we get home. I can’t wait to see her fuck her own pussy.
A cherry on top is Tyley’s face when we disembark the plane and he sees that I’ve been in first-class.
Wiley insists I stay with her at the Bellagio in a suite and I doubt there’s a person in the world who could dissuade me from it. The room is flashy and all kinds of luxury, but all I can think about is getting my hands on Wiley. As soon as we’re through the door, we’re a tangled mess of limbs and clothes flying through the air.
I know I’m here for my work, but the sooner I can get through my obligations, the more time I get to spend with Wiley. And it’s not just for sex—though it’s mind-blowingly fantastic. Just being in her presence is intoxicating. I’m so addicted to her I can’t breathe sometimes.
Every appearance I’m booked to go to, Wiley stands in the wings, this look of contentment on her face. My heart swells with more fucking love than I thought possible for one human being. Even when women want photos and they grope and touch me, all she does is shake her head, mouthing the words— you belong to me.
Not even Tyler-fucking-Wannek can kill my buzz, but as we sit in the suite to watch the kick-off of the new season with the players and wives of some of the top NFL teams, I know this time is coming to an end. It doesn’t stop me from beaming as Wiley argues with a six-foot plus monster about how superior the players of rugby league are. She even challenges him to take a tackle without all his protective gear. He politely declines with a laugh.
“She’s a firecracker, this one,” he jokes, hooking his thumb in her direction.
“She’s definitely a wild one,” I concur, watching her mingle and laugh with people as they experience the beauty and brutality of rugby league.
The game is over before I feel like I can blink and as Wiley and I stroll arm in arm down crowded Fremont Street, people zip-lining over our heads. We marvel at the beautiful light show, Wiley nestling in closer to me, this feeling of uncertainty wrapping around me.
“I feel like walking back to the hotel,” she says quietly as we exit the busy street.
“That’s a long walk, baby.” I get where it’s coming from because I’m not in any hurry for our time here to end. I don’t want reality crashing in on us.
“You’re probably right,” she sighs, her lips thinning out as I hail a cab.
Climbing in, Wiley shuffles in beside me and my arm curls around her instantly. As we crawl through the Las Vegas traffic, bright neon and flashing signs on every street bombard my mind, and I run a hand across my brow, massaging my temples.
“Are you okay, Asher? You’ve been a little…withdrawn today,” she asks softly, keeping her head turned to the opposite window.
How the fuck do I tell the most perfect woman in the world that I’ve only known for a few months—barely—that I love her? Like deeply, madly love her, without sounding like a damn fool.
“It’s nothing,” I lie, pulling her a little closer.
“Asher, if this is too much like what we’ve been doing, you have to tell me. If I’m too much, or if you’re starting to regret?—”
“No! Just stop right there. Don’t think that—ever,” I growl, forcing her to face me and gripping her chin possessively. “This. Us. I…it’s…”
“It’s what, Asher? Tell me, please.” Tears glisten in her gorgeous eyes and I fucking hate that I put them there. When something outside the window catches my eye, the craziest and most perfect idea hits me.
“Stop the cab.” The driver looks at me, confused in his mirror. “You heard me. Stop the cab.”
Paying the fare, I grab Wiley’s hand and drag her down the street. “What the hell is going on, Asher?”
I don’t answer and keep going, determined to get this out. Even if it’s the hill I die on, at least I’ll know.
“Asher! I am not going one step further until you tell me what the fuck is going on?!” Coming to a halt, she slams into me, an annoyed huff pushing from her mouth.
“We’re a forward pass,” I blurt, and she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“What? Are you saying we’re…illegal?”
“No! God no. Not like that, anyway. I mean…fuck, how do I explain this?” Spinning away from her, the neon lights of the building in front of me hold the only answer I can think of.
A soft hand lands on my forearm, prodding me to turn and when I do, Wiley’s alarmed face peers up at me. “Please try, Asher, even if it sounds insane. What I’m feeling it’s… too important to throw away.”
Her admission, however slight, boosts my own and I cup her face, kissing her deeply. “Wiley,” I breathe, breaking our kiss. “You’re my forward pass. The one that everyone thinks is crazy and yet it gets past all of them and makes for the most amazing play. Wiley, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I don’t care what anyone else says, I know what I feel.”
“And what do you feel?” she pleads, her eyes darting back and forth to mine, assessing, begging.
“I…I love you, Wiley Nolan. I have, from the very first moment I laid eyes on you. And if this is too soon or you’re not?—”
“I love you too,” she cuts me off, lifting up on her toes and throwing her arms around my neck. “I guess your cousin was right, huh?”
“We won’t let her know that.” I shrug with a laugh, sliding one hand around her waist. “But yeah, I guess there is such a thing as love at first sight.”
Pulling her close, I lean down, inhaling her exotic perfume. A million things I want to say tumble through my mind. My need for a deeper connection with Wiley just as powerful. And behind it all the glowing neon sign.
“Asher?” Taking a step away from her, I get down on one knee and take her hand in mine.
“Wiley Nolan, will you marry me?” Disbelief, shock and probably a thousand other emotions ripple across her features as she shifts her attention between me and the wedding chapel, we’re in front of, a crowd gathering around us.
“Your forward pass, huh?” She works hard to contain her emotions. Those full lips of hers trembling and I nod, kissing the back of her hand. “I’ll be your forward pass, Asher Scott, and damn anyone who tells us it’s wrong.”
“Is that a, yes?” I ask, panic settling in my chest like a caged beast, someone in the crowd around us calling out the same question.
“Yes, Asher. It’s most definitely yes, cute boy,” she beams, launching herself into my arms, her mouth crashing into mine in a searing kiss, the crowd erupting in applause.
“C’mon, cute girl,” I manage, breaking our kiss, my heart doing fucking somersaults as I scoop her up into my arms and head into the chapel.
“Hey,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do after we’re married?”
“Trust me,” I kiss her again, her mouth like heaven, and whisper, “You’re gonna need me to carry you everywhere because after we’re married, I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”
“Promise?” She raises an eyebrow, brushing her nose against my ear, the heat from her breath stoking the fire rising within me.
“Until the day I fucking die.”