Chapter 17
SUMMER
This is a bad idea. Such a bad idea.
But I can’t stop myself.
There’s hardly anything between us, and all I want is more. I’m addicted to these stolen moments we keep finding ourselves in. I know the risk. I know the possible repercussions, but I don’t care.
He bites my lower lip, and I moan. My hands fumble with his belt, and he lets out a small chuckle against my neck before he bites it and kisses the sting away.
“Do not leave another fucking hickey on my neck,” I warn. This was already a tremendously bad idea; there’s no reason to leave evidence of it for others to question.
“Oh, I’d never dream of it, Ms. Nyx,” he breathes against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Even if the idea of everyone knowing you’re mine makes me want to mark you every single day for the rest of your life,” he growls.
And I didn’t think it was possible, but I can feel myself getting wetter at his words. Why is the idea of him owning me so hot? It shouldn’t be. Right?
I manage to get his pants unbuttoned before he slowly kisses down my neck, my chest, my stomach. I arch my back in response, encouraging him to go where I need him most.
“No hickeys on your neck,” he mumbles against the sensitive skin of my abdomen. “What about elsewhere?”
“Mhm,” I hum, unable to think, nonetheless answer him when his mouth is so close to my core that I can feel his hot breath against my thighs. I close my eyes and bask in the sensation of his lips on my skin.
“I’ll take that as a resounding yes,” he says, amused. He nips the inside of my thigh, causing me to let out a surprised squeak, before he sucks on the skin, thoroughly marking me where no one else can see.
He’s so close, yet so far from where I need him. I thread my hands through his hair, grasping the strands and trying to tug him to my center. “Please,” I whisper.
“Where’s your patience, Summer?”
“Gone. Completely gone. I never have any patience when it comes to being with you.”
He lets out a pleased growl before continuing. “Well, patience is a virtue, and I intend to show you a good time.”
Then his mouth is on me. Sucking my clit into his mouth and forcing a loud groan from my lips.
Normally, I’d be embarrassed at how loud I’m being.
I’d try to quiet myself so that I didn’t seem so eager or out of fear that the neighbors might hear.
But it feels so good. There’s no holding back for either of us.
Asher moans against my pussy, licking my slit and circling my clit with the tip of his tongue. “So wet,” he murmurs. “Is this all for me?”
I nod, unable to answer with words. His grip on my thighs tightens.
His gaze meets mine as he takes another long, toe-curling lick.
The deep green of his eyes under hooded lids is so breathtaking that despite my body’s instinct to arch my back and close my eyes, I use the last of my self-control to keep my gaze trained on his.
He hums against me, and the vibrations against that delicate bundle of nerves send me over the edge. I cry out and try to pull away from him, but he holds me tighter as he continues to lick me through my release.
He crawls his way up my body, leaving light kisses against my exposed skin as he goes. He settles his weight on top of me and lets out an amused laugh as I eagerly shove his pants down. He slips his tongue back into my mouth, and I can taste my arousal on him.
He thrusts against me, his cock rubbing against the apex of my thighs perfectly, sending a fresh wave of desire through me. My pussy clenches around nothing, and I am desperate to get him inside me.
“Please,” I beg. I let my hands drift down his chest and each ridge of his Adonis-like abs, before reaching the deep V cut into his hips. I stroke his impressive length, once, twice, causing him to screw his eyes shut. “Please,” I repeat.
The grin he gives me is absolutely feral as he reaches for his bedside table.
I push myself up onto my elbows to gain access to his neck.
Even though I just chastised him about leaving visible hickeys on me, the unhinged urge to do so to him is incredibly strong.
The idea of him walking around with a mark that signifies he belongs to someone—belongs to me—is very tempting.
I settle for nipping his skin lightly as he pulls open the bedside table’s drawer, and he lets out an agonized moan as I arch against him while he digs through the contents of the drawer.
He finds what he’s looking for as I whimper against the shell of his ear, causing the muscles in his back to tense under my fingertips.
He does the cliche move of ripping the condom wrapper using his teeth.
I raise an amused eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I thought it might impress you.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes my throat. “What? Because you can do the one thing all the actors do in R-rated movies?”
He pinches my side and hikes my leg up higher on his waist in silent retaliation.
He drags his cock through my wet folds, coating himself with my release. I moan at the feel of him against me. Any further snide comments leave my mind as I lift my hips, trying to get him inside me.
“Looks like we still need to work on that patience, Summer,” he growls. His hand encircles my neck, squeezing lightly. A promise of what’s to come. He nips at my collarbone, and I shudder at the scrape of his teeth against my skin.
I reach between us and stroke the length of him. He lets out a deep groan as I run my thumb across his tip, smearing a drop of his arousal in the process. I bring my thumb to my lips and suck it into my mouth, eyes closing at the salty taste of him.
“Fuck,” he swears before hastily rolling the condom on. He lines himself up with my entrance and slams his mouth against mine. His tongue plunges into my mouth, and I try to kiss him back just as fiercely, both our tongues warring for dominance.
Asher snaps his hips forward and sinks into the hilt, giving me no time to adjust to his size before he starts thrusting. I am gloriously, nearly painfully, full.
One thrust from him sends me soaring over the edge again.
That’s fucking embarrassing.
How many times is this man going to make me come faster than any other man ever?
He stills and rests his forehead against mine, panting so that his breath fans across my face. My pussy pulses around him, and he moans. “God, you’re perfect.”
He thrusts hard, stealing my breath, before he pulls almost completely out of me, leaving only the tip, but pumps his hips forward at a brutal pace.
I feel like I’m falling apart, and he’s going to be the only thing that can put me back together.
Sex is great. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences—what girl hasn’t?
But this? This sex is mind-blowing. Maybe it’s because he’s older and has more experience.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been abstinent for so long.
Or maybe it’s because Asher is the first guy I’ve genuinely liked in a while.
My breath catches at that thought. I knew this was a bad idea from the start.
But catching feelings? That’ll make everything ten times worse.
It’s one thing to sleep together because we find each other mutually attractive, but once feelings get involved, we run the risk of someone getting seriously hurt, along with possible career repercussions.
He tweaks my nipple, bringing me back to what’s happening. He sucks the stiff peak into his mouth as he continues thrusting into me.
I groan, my body feeling overstimulated.
“Just give me one more,” he sighs into my mouth.
His fingers reach between us to circle my sensitive clit, forcing another wave of ecstasy to wash over me.
I cry out, my legs tightening around his waist as tremors wrack my body.
He grits his teeth as I clench around him.
He continues thrusting through my release, prolonging my climax.
His hips pump faster as he finally chases his own release.
I scrape my nails down his back, encouraging him.
He lets out a deep moan as his hips shudder, losing their rhythm as he pulses inside me, his cock getting impossibly bigger.
He leans his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “Good girl.”
My pussy clenches at the praise, and another moan escapes his lips. His hips jut forward on instinct, and he settles inside me. Even after finishing, he’s huge, and I feel impossibly full with his length buried deep inside me.
He slowly pulls out of me before rolling onto his back.
Sweat dots his forehead, and he’s breathing heavily as he turns his head to look at me.
He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and a small smile tugs at his lips.
He looks so content, just lying there, sweat glistening on his bare skin.
His green eyes are still hooded, but instead of desire, it’s the kind of exhaustion that comes after a particularly earth-shattering orgasm.
Lights from the city filter through the open curtains, bathing us in a pale yellow glow.
“You have a very nice apartment,” I whisper, breaking the silence.
“Thank you,” he whispers back with a teasing smile. He rolls onto his side and runs his hand across my stomach. A far-off look spreads across his face. “My sister helped decorate it.”
“That was nice of her,” I muse, though my eyebrows furrow when the look doesn’t disappear. “You two must be very close.”
He shrugs, rustling the sheets around us. “Sort of. I haven’t seen her in person since she decorated for me.”
“What happened?”
“Juliet moved to California without telling any of us. It took her months to finally come clean to me about where she moved to. She was about to give birth to my niece, and our parents were beside themselves with worry during her radio silence.”
“Why did she leave so suddenly?”
He shakes his head as his nose scrunches in confusion. “She’s never been up front about it. She’ll say she wanted a new start. She hated how cold Seattle is. She wanted a change of scenery. But I can tell she’s hiding something about the whole situation. I’m just not sure what.”
“I’m sorry it’s been so long since you’ve seen her,” I offer, as if an apology is going to make him feel better.
“We talk pretty frequently,” he responds. “But she’s still not ready for anyone to go visit her. I’m trying to respect her wishes until she’s ready.”
“Sounds like you’re a good big brother.”
He laughs, but it lacks warmth. “If I were a good brother, she wouldn’t have felt the need to run away in the first place.”
“I don’t think this is something you can place the blame on yourself for,” I say hesitantly, not wanting to stick my nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. “It sounds like maybe this was something she needed to do for herself.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” he says in a low voice. He rolls on top of me and kisses me deeply, effectively distracting me and ending our conversation.
“Mmm,” I hum into his mouth. I drag my hands through his hair as he hardens against my hip.
“You’re incredible,” he breathes before claiming my mouth again.
I feel like absolute garbage.
I push the door to my apartment open and give Milo a gentle pat on her head. I pour her extra food for breakfast and apologize for not coming home last night.
I eye my empty duffel bag and groan before flopping down on my bed.
I have no idea what time it was when Asher and I finally fell asleep last night, but I’m exhausted.
I clearly didn’t sleep much. I have a faint headache that is either from the alcohol, though I wasn’t drunk last night, or it’s from overthinking everything that happened with Asher on my Uber drive to the parking garage and then the drive home.
I tug at the sleeve of Asher’s shirt that I’m wearing.
I shouldn’t have kept it. I should’ve sucked it up and put my clothes back on, even if they were still damp despite having been tossed in the dryer.
I also stole a pair of his sweatpants so that I wouldn’t be sitting half-naked in an Uber.
Asher had been right; they were huge on me, and I had to keep hiking them up on the walk to my car.
I slowly lift the shirt’s material to my nose and take a deep inhale—Pine and sandalwood.
Part of me wants to strip his clothes off right now so that they keep their smell.
Another wants to stay wrapped up in his scent for hours.
I listen to the sound of Milo crunching her cat food and feel my eyelids grow heavy. I start to drift off when my alarm rings throughout the apartment. I whimper at the high-pitched sound and quickly slam my hand down over my phone, shutting the alarm off.
I shoot off a quick text to my mom, letting her know I woke up feeling sick and may not make it over today, but I will definitely be there tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I let my eyes fall shut again without waiting for a response.
I woke up with an unread text from an unknown number, and part of me just knew it was from Asher. It was sent yesterday, and I have studiously ignored it, focusing on getting ready for the trip to visit my mom instead.
Now the unread message icon mocks me as I stare at it. I lock my phone screen, set it face down on the passenger seat, and start my car. I drum my fingers against the steering wheel as I chew on my lower lip. I grab my phone but promptly drop it back in the seat as if it shocked me.
I have about a four-and-a-half-hour car ride, and I can either read the text and overthink whatever it says. Or I can ignore the text and overthink the possibilities of what it says. I’ve gone this long without reading it; what’s a few more hours?
I read the text because I am a glutton for punishment.
Not even a goodbye?
That’s all it says. I’m baffled.
It’s clearly from Asher, but of all the things he could’ve sent me, he chose those simple four words?
What did he expect? That we’d wake up together, cook breakfast, and talk about our feelings? Clearly, we’re both attracted to each other. But he’s also made it abundantly clear that this is not something we should be pursuing.
And yet, you both keep making the same mistakes.
Though this time it’s so much worse.
Kissing him is one thing. Talking outside of class is one thing. Flirting is one thing.
Having sex with my professor is a whole other thing.
We’ve crossed a line that we can’t undo.
I let my forehead thunk against my steering wheel, groaning in frustration.
I majorly fucked up.