Chapter 20 #2
I let go of his shirt instantly, reaching down to snatch his other hand, forcing it back down and pinning it on the other side of his head against the desk, effectively locking him beneath me.
His fingers twitched in my hold, his head tilting back just slightly to expose more of his throat, more of that perfectly flushed skin that I wanted my teeth on again.
Another mark, right at that spot where his shoulder and neck met, that would be a perfect place for one more.
“You’re being unfair.” He twisted his hips up, grinding against me, trying hard to rake the hard line of his arousal into mine.
Ignoring him was easy, made better by the sound he made the second I latched my mouth on his neck once more. He tasted salty from the sun, sweet from whatever body wash he used back in Louisiana before climbing onto that plane to come back to me.
He was never leaving again. I wouldn’t have it.
Three weeks was too long. Too much time away for him to forget about all of us and leave the life he’d built over the past year behind. If his family wanted to see him, they’d have to come here—plenty of rooms were open up at the bunkhouse for temporary housing.
“Let me touch you.” Whiny. Frustrated. The words forced out between his teeth like he was on the verge of snapping completely.
I sank my teeth into his skin again, the sharp bite earning me a gasp from him. I smoothed the spot instantly, dragging my tongue slowly over it in order to trace the faint imprints left behind to make sure they were deep enough to bruise later.
A shudder ran through him. “Please...”
His body arched to chase after me, not deterred even a little bit by the way I had him pinned down.
“You think I’m being unfair?” I murmured, brushing my lips against the shell of his ear. “Look what you’ve done to me.”
He let out a soft, choked noise, his fingers twitching uselessly in my grip. “Wilder...”
Fuck, I loved it. Couldn’t get enough.
I rammed my hips into his hard, rocking the desk under us against the wall, letting him feel every inch of me in that desperate attempt to chase after the pleasure I was controlling, every ounce of the frustration that had been building between us for too goddamn long.
This had been months in the making. Maybe a year, if I was being honest with myself. The second he’d stepped off the bus and onto my property, something in me had latched onto him and hadn’t let go since.
Whether it was some kind of divine fate or whatever other bullshit Laken liked to wax poetic about with those songs of his, I didn’t care. All that mattered was my name on Asher’s lips, purring it like he was praying to a god neither of us believed in.
“Fuck me.” He squeezed his leg around me, locking me in place, his other trapped against the edge of the desk by my own.
Jesus.
Having him laid out like this, spread beneath me, would be the perfect angle to slide into him if I had him already naked.
One leg hitched up to part those perky, round cheeks, and the other pulled to the side, giving me something to hold onto, to dig my fingers into, while I fucked into him relentlessly until he was shaking and couldn’t remember his own name.
Too bad I hadn’t come more prepared.
Then again, how the fuck could I have expected any of this to happen?
I exhaled slowly, dipping my head back down to brush my nose against the shell of his ear. “Can’t.”
That was all I said before pulling his ear lobe between my lips. Funny, he still had places he was soft despite how strong and solid the rest of him was.
“What?” Something in his tone shifted, sounding distressed. “I swear, I’ll behave. I’ll—fuck, I’ll be good. I won’t say anything to anyone.”
I snapped my eyes open.
I’ll be good.
Fuck.
If there was anything that could completely turn me inside out, tear apart what little critical thought I had left in me, it was hearing him say that.
Asher Torres wasn’t ‘good’ for anybody. He was wild, a free spirit, and rebellious right down to his damn bones, someone who couldn’t be contained, couldn’t be controlled with anything short of a miracle.
And yet here he was, promising me the exact opposite.
Offering it to me, teasing me with submission, surrender, without me even having to ask for it.
I’ll be good.
The words were sweet ambrosia to my ears.
The real tragedy in all of this?
As much as I wanted to take him the way he was begging for, I couldn’t. Not like this, at least. Even high on him, drunk off the way his body was writhing beneath mine, I couldn’t just fuck him without protection.
And spit alone sure as hell wouldn’t be enough to get myself buried inside him the way I wanted to.
I knew he’d be tight, clenching that little hole of his while waiting for me to strip him down to nothing.
Trying to force the head of my cock inside him, no matter how much pre-cum drooled from it, would end up hurting him.
I couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t be able to bear seeing his face scrunched up in pain just because I was too eager for my own pleasure to actually keep him safe.
For now, I’d satisfy him in other ways.
Lifting myself up, I let go of his wrists and dropped my hands to the front of his jeans.
I worked my fingers quickly, efficiently, to tug the button loose, parting his fly. His breath hitched softly the moment I shoved the material down, his cock springing free, thick and flushed, the tip already leaking a slick of pre-cum down the length of him.
My stomach tightened at the sight because, fuck, he was perfect.
He fit so fucking well in my palm when I wrapped my fingers around him, squeezing him until his cock jumped inside my hand, more slick leaking from the tip and coating my fingers. He was the picture perfect image of completely wrecked like this—completely at my mercy like he wanted to be.
A low groan slipped past his lips, his hips jerking involuntarily to push him up into my grip. “F-fuck.”
I circled my thumb over his slippery, swollen tip, spreading around the wetness while watching the way his body shuddered beneath me. His head tilted back against the desk while he arched his back, his chest shuddering as he tried to pull in deeper breaths and failed.
Another moan—soft, needy, and fucking beautiful.
Not being able to help myself, I leaned back over to seal my mouth over one of his nipples, sucking it between my teeth. The moment I flicked my tongue over it, a sharp gasp tore from his throat, his back arching further off the desk and pushing up into my mouth like he needed more.
Fuck, I liked that.
I rolled the sensitive bud between my teeth just hard enough to feel him shudder beneath me, the sound of it mixing with the slick slide of my hand moving up and down his cock. His fingers found my hair, threading through the short lengths to grip tight.
It was enough to send sparks of pain crashing through the pleasure already coursing through me, but I didn’t mind.
Liked it, even.
I dragged my teeth over his skin one more time before lifting my head to watch him come undone. His face was flushed, eyes glazed over from the overwhelming pleasure I was giving him.
“Come for me, Asher.”
That was all the permission he needed to let himself go, throw his head back while his hips jerked and he exploded in my hand. He came hard, cock pulsing while he spilled hot and thick cum all over my hand and his stomach, coating us both in it.
I worked him through it, stroking him until every last drop was milked from his balls. His entire body relaxed against the desk within seconds, both hands dropping from me to lay uselessly on either side of his head while he gazed up at me, dazed, lips parted to drag air into his lungs.
It made me chuckle.
Of all the things to settle him...
Nothing in this world would surprise me anymore.
I flicked my gaze down to the mess he’d made of himself, his stomach looking just like I’d wanted it to—slick and sticky.
Fuck, I could stare at him like this forever.
My cock gave a half-hearted tug, reminding me of my own relief. Gently letting him go, I ran the back of my finger along the length of him one last time before wrapping my hand around my own cock, tightening my fingers while I began to stroke it.
The cum still coating my hand made for a nice, unexpected lube that had my balls squeezing. I wasn’t going to last long, not while seeing Asher in this state, one I’d tried not to fantasize about and failed miserably pretending otherwise.
He’d been my guilty pleasure for too long. One I needed to quit but couldn’t.
If I was smart, this would end the second we both walked out that door. But lord knew, I was never the type to quite learn my lesson the first time around. Not until I’d been beaten over the head with it a few times until I had no sense left in me.
For now, I still had a ways to go.
A deep, ragged groan tore from my throat as I spilled over him, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach and chest, dripping down the ridges of his abs as it marked him just like I wanted. My hips jerked forward, chasing the last waves of pleasure as I rode it out.
Fuck, that was good.
I barely managed to keep myself upright, one hand quickly bracing against the desk beside his head as one last squeeze of pressure passed over me.
Asher glanced down at the mess I’d made of him.
There was something calculated in the way he lifted his hand up from the desk, hovering just above his stomach. Two fingers dipped down, scooping up a healthy glob of our combined spend, and lifted them without hesitation, no sense of shame bringing them up toward his mouth.
He met my eyes, held them steadily, and parted his lips.
Oh.
He flicked his tongue out to wrap around the digits, pulling them past his teeth to suck them clean.
My cock gave one last pathetic jerk.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Just what I thought you’d taste like.”
It hit me then that instead of ruining Asher, he’d done it to me first.
How fitting.