Page 82 of Wicked Temptations
“Only for you.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. But fuck it. We were past pretending this was anything else.
His eyes darkened before he kissed me again. Softer this time. Almost gentle. His hips slowed to match, each thrust deliberate instead of brutal. Drawing it out. Making me feel every inch as he pulled back and pushed in.
This is torture.
“Ash.” I broke the kiss to pant against his mouth. “I can’t. I need to—”
“Shhh.” Another slow thrust. “Not yet.”
“I’m gonnadie.”
“No, you’re not, Jude.” He kissed along my jaw, down my neck. Teeth scraping over my pulse point hard enough to make me shudder. “You’re gonna wait. Like a good boy.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and quit calling me that. But the words wouldn’t come. All I had were broken sounds as he continued that slow, torturous rhythm.
Finally,finally, he straightened, and when his hand wrapped around my cock, I nearly sobbed with relief.
“You’ve been so patient.” He stroked in time with his thrusts. Slow and deliberate now. It was just pleasant torture presented in a different way. “So good for me.”
“Please.” I didn’t care how desperate I sounded. “Please let me come.”
His grip tightened, and his hips picked up speed again. Fast. Hard. Exactly what I needed.
“Come for me, Jude.”
Permission granted, my body obeyed before my brain could catch up. The orgasm hit like a freight train, ripping through me with an intensity that made my vision white out. I came hard, painting his hand and my stomach, muscles clenching around him.
“Fuck.” Ash’s rhythm faltered. Once. Twice. Then he buried himself deep, and I felt him come, heat flooding inside me.
He stayed there, hips pressed flush against my ass, both of us trembling and gasping. His hand was still wrapped around my softening cock, covered in my release.
When he finally opened his eyes, the smirk on his face was pure sin.
He pulled his hand up and shoved it toward my mouth. “Good boy. Now clean me up.”
The things that voice did to me should be illegal. I did as told, lapping his hand with my tongue until every drop of myself was gone. I’d never enjoyed the taste of my cum, but from Ash’s skin, it was a delicacy.
Ash only pulled out of me when I’d finished my task, and I had enough clarity to be ashamed at the small wounded sounds I made at the loss.
“Easy.” His hands moved to my legs, carefully lifting them off his shoulders and lowering them to the bed. The care he took with my injured leg would have been endearing if I could have focused on anything at all.
“Jude? You good?” I must have been obviously fucked out of my brain if Ash felt he needed to ask.
“Yeah.” My voice came out wrecked. “I’m good.”
My body felt like warm honey, my muscles liquid and useless. I wanted to reach for Ash, pull him down beside me, tuck myself against his chest and just exist there for a while. But my arms wouldn’t cooperate. They just lay there, heavy and unresponsive.
When did I last feel like this?
Never. Not with Dylan. Not with anyone.
The hate-sex with Ash these last few weeks had been incredible. Angry and desperate and consuming. But this? This scared the hell out of me even in my current boneless state.
Ash moved somewhere nearby. I couldn’t track it properly. All I knew was that he was gone.
Gone.
I didn’t want him to just fuck me and leave. I wanted him to stay. Wasn’t that the point of his barging into my house at ass o’clock in the morning? Weren’t we meant to be giving this thing a go?
