Page 82 of In Case You Didn't Know
“Birth control. I have condoms. Latex. You’re not allergic, right?”
“No I’m not.”
He nods, grabbing his wallet, taking out a silver disc. Then he pulls down his shorts, revealing that stupidly sexy, magnificent cock. Slowly, he rolls the condom on, and I can’t take my eyes away.
When he climbs onto the bed, he immediately seeks out my mouth, kissing me, his hand brushing back my hair. “If it hurts you tell me.”
“It’s fine. You’re fine.”
His mouth takes mine again, slower this time, like he’s trying to memorize the way I taste. He covers my body with his, warm and heavy, but he doesn’t rush. One hand cups my cheek as he settles between my thighs, the other slides down between us, seeking me out, teasing me until I’m arching against him.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice reverent and filthy all at once. “I’m not even inside of you yet, and here you are, dripping.”
He flicks his fingers against me and I moan, unembarrassed by my response to him. “Please,” I murmur, spreading my legs wider.
Asher groans, rubbing the head of his cock against me, teasing me, torturing me. “You want me to fill this pretty little pussy? Stretch you open with my cock.”
God, he knows how to talk dirty. My whole body heats at his words.
“Yes please.”
“Say my name.”
“Yes, Asher. I want you inside of me.”
He stares down at me like I’ve handed him a secret. And maybe I have.
He shifts, lining himself up, but before I can feel the blessed relief of him he pauses to kiss me again. “So fucking beautiful. The way you look at me.”
And then he starts to push inside.
My breath catches in my throat as he slides into me inch by slow inch. My body stretches around him, the delicious burn making my toes curl.
He stills once he’s fully seated, his brow pressed against mine. “Fuck,” he groans. “You feel like heaven. So fucking tight.” His eyelashes flicker against mine. “Tell me you’re okay.”
I kiss him, his breath warming my lips. “I’m more than okay.” I’m not sure there are words to describe just how okay I am with Asher inside of me.
His mouth curves against mine. “Told you I’d go slow.”
But he doesn’t. Not really. Once he starts to move, with long, deep thrusts that press every inch of him right where I need him the most, my body forgets everything except him. The way he makes me feel so full. The way he kisses me when I gasp. The way he starts muttering against my skin.
My nails dig into his back. My hips rise to meet every thrust. He’s everywhere, inside of me, around me, breaking me apart in all the ways I never knew I wanted.
And when he snakes a hand between us and presses a finger against me, it’s over. I spiral, my whole body shaking as I unravel, crying out his name, my orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave. He holds me through it, his rhythm faltering as I clench around him.
And in that moment, he owns me. Heart, body, and soul.
“Fuck, Francie,” he groans, his voice cracking. He buries himself deep, shuddering as he comes, his head tucked into the crook of my neck. Every muscle in his body tightens as he spills inside of me.
For a moment, we don’t speak. We just lie there, tangled and breathless, our bodies still connected, our skin sticky with sweat and syrup and everything that just passed between us. My heart pounds against his in the quiet aftermath. Like it’s trying to match his rhythm.
When he finally lifts his head, there’s an expression on his face I can’t quite read. Something tender. Something open.
“You okay?” he asks, voice raw.
I nod, too wrecked to find the words.
He leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. Like a promise. Like a beginning.
