Chapter 241: Asher
Her mouth moves under mine like it never left. Like it belongs here. Like I didn’t go feral every night she was gone, imagining the feet of her lips, the weight of her body on mine, the sound of her voice saying my name like it’s a secret and a promise.
And now she’s here–real, warm, pressed so close I can feel her heartbeat stutter against my chest.
I don’t pull back.
1 can’t.
She tastes like everything I lost and everything I swore I’d get back.
But even now, even drowning in her, I ask, because I have to.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmur into her mouth. My voice is hoarse, dragged through gravel. “If you need space. If it’s too soon. If-
She exhales the word against my lips. “Don’t stop.”
It undoes me.
My hand tangles in her hair, tipping her head so I can kiss her deeper, harder. Her fingers fist the front of my shirt like she’s trying to anchor herself, but I’m the one unraveling. Every soft gasp from her makes it worse–makes me hungrier, needier, more desperate to feel her, to prove she’s here and mine and safe.
I pull her into my lap. Her knees settle on either side of my hips, her arms winding around my neck, and God, I forget how to breathe.
“You feel…” I can’t even finish the sentence. My hands roam her waist, up her back, down her thighs, like I can’t touch enough of her fast enough. “I missed you, Penny. I missed you so bad I started dreaming in your voice.”
Her eyes go soft. “Asher-”
I shake my head. “No, let me say it.” I press my forehead to hers. “I thought I lost you. And the thought of someone else touching you, hurting you- My jaw flexes. “I was ready to burn the whole city down.”
She brushes her thumb across my cheek like she’s trying to soothe something she knows can’t be soothed. Not entirely.
“I’m here,” she whispers.
And I lose it again.
I push her shirt up–slowly, reverently. Not to rush. Not to claim. Just to see her.
“Still okay?” I whisper, fingers skimming the edge of her shirt.
“Yes,” she says, voice low and sure.
She lifts her arms, and I peel it off. Her bare skin catches the lamplight–smooth, flushed, real. My hands are reverent on her, not out of fear but awe. The kind you get when you realize the thing you prayed for every damn night didn’t vanish–it walked right back into your arms.
Her hands are on my shirt next, tugging. I help her, tearing it off in one fluid move. Her fingers glide across my chest, over the old scars, the stories I’ve never let anyone else read.
She doesn’t flinch.
She kisses one just under my collarbone. Then another near my ribs.
And then she whispers, “You came back to me.”
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Chapter 241: Asher
That’s it. That’s the end of whatever thread I had left holding me together.
I pull her against me, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, and roll us so she’s beneath me, our legs tangled in the sheets we didn’t even make it under.
Her body moves under mine like she was built to fit me. Not just physically–though God, that’s part of it—but in the way she responds to every touch. Even breath. Like her skin knows mine. Like her heart beats to the same rhythm.
I kiss her slowly. Deeply. My hand curls around the back of her neck, tilting her head just the way I like, so I can taste more of her, steal another breath, feel her fall apart inch by inch beneath me.
She gasps into my mouth and arches, chest brushing against mine, soft and flushed and so damn warm. Her fingers dig into my shoulders and then slide down–across my chest, over the scars, down my ribs–like she’s trying to memorize me.
I feel every inch of her touch like a brand.
“Still okay?” I murmur against her jaw, lips grazing the soft skin there, my voice barely holding together.
“Yes,” she breathes. “Please–don’t stop.”
My control frays at the edges.
I drag my mouth down her throat, tasting the rapid pulse fluttering beneath her skin. I kiss her there–softly, reverently–and then lower, across her collarbones, her shoulder, the top of her chest. My hands follow, sliding down her waist, tracing the dip of her back, cupping her like she might slip away if I let go.
She won’t.
Not this time.
“Tell me if you want anything different,” I whisper. “Tell me if I go too far.”
“You’re not going far enough,” she says, breathless, half–laughing, half–pleading.
That makes me groan. A deep, raw sound I didn’t mean to let out.
“Christ, Penny…”
I pull her closer, our bodies aligned, her thighs warm against my hips, and she’s already shifting–restless, needing more, I can feel it in the way her breath stutters, the way she clutches at me like gravity stopped working.
I slip my hand between us and touch her–light at first, a brush just to tease–and her whole body jerks beneath mine.
“You’re so warm,” I whisper, brushing her lips with mine again, my fingers slow and steady. “So soft. You feel like heaven.”
She moans, head tipping back, breath catching in her throat.
“You like that?” I ask, voice ragged, rough, way too proud of myself.
“Yes–God, Asher, yes…”
I keep touching her, keep whispering to her, letting her ride the edge, then pulling her back, savoring every sound she makes.
Her hips lift into my hand, her thighs trembling around me,
and I know she’s close–I can feel it in the way her whole body goes tense
ft all at once.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur. “Let go for me, baby.
And she does.
With a gasp, a full–body shudder, her mouth open on a silent cry. She clings to me, her nails biting into my back, her body arching up as she falls apart in my hands.
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Chapter 241: Asher
I watch her stunned, undone completely wrecked by the sight of her losing control because of me.
“I love you,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “You don’t
know how much.”
She pulls me down into a kiss, her lips still trembling, her arms tight around my neck. “Then show me.”
That’s all the permission I need.
I press against her, slow and careful, my hands her face as I line us up, and she gasps when she feels me. Her nails dig in again–sharp and perfect
“Still okay?” I ask, already half gone.
She nods. “Yes. Please.”
I enter her slow, trying not to lose my mind. She’s
SO
- m. So tight. Every inch a fight not to collapse completely,
I bury my face in her neck, holding still, just feeling her,
letting my body memorize hers all over again.
“You feel…” I can’t even finish. I groan instead, hips barely moving, barely able to.
Her hands slip into my hair. “Asher,” she breathes.
I move, slow and deep, and she whimpers–beautiful and
raw–and it damn near undoes me.
Every time I pull back and press in again, I feel her wrap tighter around me, body arching to meet mine, mouth open, breath ragged. She holds onto me like I’m the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth
And maybe I am.
But she’s everything to me. My gravity. My purpose. My home.
“Look at me,” I whisper, hand sliding into her hair.
She blinks up at me, eyes glassy, lips parted. She looks wrecked. She looks like mine.
I kiss her again–slow, deep, full of everything I can’t say–and then I let myself go, let my body take over, moving harder, deeper, chasing that edge I’ve been starved for.
She meets every thrust, her body clinging to mine, her mouth on my throat, my shoulder, anywhere she can reach. I hear my name on her lips like a prayer, like a plea, like a promise.
We fall together–fast and full and trembling–wrapped around each other so tight there’s no telling where I end and she begins.
And when it’s over, when we’re both breathless and shaking and still tangled in each other, I press my forehead to hers and whisper:
“I will never let anything touch you again. You’re mine. Always.”
She kisses me again–soft and slow–and I know I’ll spend the rest of my life earning the right to feel her like this.
