Chapter 218: Asher
Her legs shift beneath me, soft and slow the kind of shift that isn’t innocent.
I’ve felt her dance.
I’ve watched her fight.
I know her every move.
This one? This one says please.
And it nearly undoes me.
My hands are gliding over the backs of her thighs, slow, methodical, still slick with warmed oil. Every time I press deeper into the muscle, she exhales like I’m stealing the weight of the world from her spine.
That’s what I want. To take everything from her
–
every ache, every memory, every ounce of fear
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and replace it with me.
But the way she keeps moving?
The soft parting of her thighs, the barely–there sound of her breath catching, the tiny tremble in her toes curling against the sheets?
It’s not pain she’s feeling anymore.
It’s need.
“Princess,” I warn, my voice thick, grounding.
She lets out a soft chuckle into the pillow. But when I move my hands to the inside of her thighs, slow and deliberate, that laughter dies on her lips. She gasps. Arches again.
“Goddammit,” I mutter. I lean over her, my chest brushing her back. “I told myself this was about you. That I could keep my hands off you. But you-* I kiss the back of her neck, “-are making that impossible.”
She rolls onto her back, eyes glinting. Hair a halo of gold against the dark pillows. My angel with a wicked streak.
“I want your hands on me,” she whispers.
And fuck. I lose a fraction of control right there.
I climb over her, keeping most of my weight off her small frame, but lowering enough that she can feel all of me hard and aching, pressed against her core.
“Say that again,” I growl, kissing down her throat.
“I want your hands on me,” she says again, softer this time, but deadlier.
“I’m not going to be gentle, Penny.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
I sit up on my knees, tug the sheet down slowly, revealing inch after inch of her skin
my canvas, my undoing.
I grip her ankles and pull her toward me. Her eyes flare with surprise, then desire, as I lower myself down again, trailing open–mouthed kisses from her
I don’t skip a single inch. Her thighs, her hips, the soft dip below her bellybutton.
knees
- up.
“I love you here,” I murmur.
Kiss.
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Chapter 218: Asher
“And here.”
Kiss.
Her breathing is tagged now, her hands clenching the sheets again.
“I want to memorize every damn inch of you,” I say, voice rough, almost angry with how much.
I feel.
And I do.
I take my time – make her gasp, make her whimper, make her say my name over and over. When she’s close, I slow down again, pulling back just enough to keep her right on that edge.
She grips my hair. “Asher, please.”
But I’m not done yet.
I shift her leg over my shoulder, tasting her again until her whole body trembles.
“Asher-”
“Not yet,” I whisper. “You don’t get to fall until I say.”
She’s wrecked by the time I finally slide into her – slow, deep, deliberate. Every thrust is controlled. Calculated. Designed to unravel her cell by cell
And when I’m fully inside her, I pause.
Because this is the part I never get used to.
How she feels like home. Like salvation. Like everything I never deserved and somehow still have.
“Look. at me,” I murmur.
She does. Barely.
“I love you.”
And when I start to move again, I feel her fall apart beneath me, breathless and teary–eyed, clinging to me like she’ll break if she lets go.
But she won’t.
Because I won’t let her.
And I’m not done loving her yet.
She’s under me, wrapped around me, and I’ve never felt anything this good in my life.
Every time I thrust into her, it feels like she’s pulling me deeper not just physically, but into her orbit, into the soft, untouchable parts of her I don’t think she’s ever let anyone close to.
And I get to be here.
She kisses me with desperation, fingers tangled in my hair, her soft whimpers pushing me closer to the edge I’ve been dancing on since she opened her legs
for me.
But I still hold back.
Because this isn’t about me.
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Chapter 218: Asher
This is about her. How she arches for me. How she begs. How her body clenches like it doesn’t want to let me go.
I lean in close, my nose brushing hers. “You’re mine.”
She nods against my mouth, whispering, “I am.*
“Say it.”
“I’m yours, Asher. Always.”
Fuck.
I shift her legs higher on my hips and change the angle – deeper now, slow, hard strokes that hit a place inside her that makes her cry out. I’m watching her unravel in real–time, her lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering open and shut like she’s too overwhelmed to stay grounded.
She comes again.
And again.
And I’m still holding on by a thread.
I want to see her fall until she has nothing left. Until she’s too wrecked to move and too dazed to question the way I look at her like I’d go to war again if it meant keeping her.
She blinks up at me, half–lost in pleasure, and her fingers curl against my back, nails dragging along my spine.
I groan, eyes squeezing shut.
“Asher,” she moans, her voice sharp and begging.
“What, princess?”
“I want to feel you-” She shudders when I thrust harder. “-when you come.”
That does it.
That’s the strike to the match I’ve been holding inches from the flame.
I growl and drive into her deeper, harder – not rough, just intense. The kind of rhythm that says, this is the part where I break too.
My hand cups the side of her face. “Look at me.”
She does.
And I come while holding her eyes, while pressing my mouth to hers like it’s the only thing tethering me to the world. I don’t come fast or quiet – it takes several slow, deep thrusts and every ounce of me. It’s like something sacred is shattering in my chest.
I stay buried inside her, arms wrapped around her as tight as I dare.
Her hand strokes the back of my head gently, soothing me as I breathe into her neck, still pulsing with the aftershocks of everythin
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper.
She giggles, breathless. “That good, huh?”
I lift my head. “You have no fucking idea.”
just gave me.
Her face is flushed and beautiful and glowing in the candlelight. My thumb finds her bottom lip and strokes it slowly.
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Chapter 218: Asher
“I could spend the rest of my life loving you and still feel like it’s not enough.”
She blinks, stunned.
And for once, she doesn’t answer with a joke.
Just a kiss.
One that tells me we’re not done yet.
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