Page 94 of Forbidden Hearts
He grins. “I’ll seal it with more than that.”
“Good.”
We get up to the room, holding hands on our way there. It’s so weird being with Asher in the open. All we’ve had is kisses when Olivia leaves the room and earth-shattering sex when she’s asleep. We’ve never so much as touched in public or without worrying someone might see.
I put the key in the lock, and as soon as I step across the threshold, he drops his bag and lifts me into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist, hands sink into his hair, and our mouths meld together.
“Jesus, it’s been days, and I am starved for you, Phoebe. I need to be inside you.”
“Yes,” I moan as he drops me onto the bed.
I need the same. We can do slow and orgasmic later. I’m sliding my pants down as he’s doing the same. The two of us are frantic, stripping as fast as we can. I tear my shirt off, throwing it somewhere, and when I look up, I could die. Asher is there, hand gripping his already hard cock, stroking it as he stares at me. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“I disagree.”
He keeps pumping his cock, and I want it so badly. I want him. I want to be joined with him because I feel whole when I am.
“The whole time I was driving to the airport, I told myself to turn around, to go back to my room and lie in my bed that smells like you—the perfect mix of lemons and vanilla—and deal with denying myself.”
I sit up on my elbows, wanting to know why this man, who I have no business being with, came for me. “But you didn’t. Why?”
“Because I wanted you too much. It felt cloudy when you left, and I needed to see the sun.”
“I thought of you too,” I offer the confession, wanting him to know how I feel as well. “I wanted you to come here. I dreamed of it.”
“I dreamed of you.”
Then there are no more words, just touching. Asher climbs atop me, his warm body covering mine. Our mouths clash and tongues duel. He doesn’t preamble...he just adjusts his hips and enters me quickly.
I gasp as he fills me so fully that I can’t breathe.
His teeth nip at my neck and shoulder before he slides his tongue over the spots he bit.
“You’re mine,” he says against my skin. “Goddamn it, Phoebe.”
His hips rear back, and he slams against me, angry and forceful, and I love it. “Yours.”
“Fuck you for making me need you,” he curses, and when he pumps his hips again, I rise to meet him. “Fuck you for making me come here.”
Yes, fuck me indeed.
I grip his hair and pull his head back so his blue eyes meet mine. “Just fuck me, Asher. Fuck me.”
He does. He pumps over and over until his relentless pace has us both out of breath and the smell of sweat and sex filling the air around us.
Asher pulls out. “Get on your hands and knees.”
I obey, not even thinking twice. When I do, I feel his hand rub my ass, and I know what’s coming. Every muscle in me clenches, and I feel myself grow even wetter. I want this. I want him to slap my ass and tell me how angry it makes him to want me. How it’s me who he thinks of. Me who makes him weak.
Before I can say anything, his palm slaps on the globe of my ass hard enough to warm the skin. I groan, dropping my head, as both the pain and the pleasure war.
“Asher.”
“Do you know how gorgeous you are like this, sweetheart? Do you know how fucking magnificent you look with your ass in the air, pussy dripping wet because you want me?”
I moan, his words sending another rush through me. “Tell me.”
I swear I can feel his approval in the way his hands move to my hips right before he slides deep. “I’d rather show you.”
