Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Every.
Single.
Time.
Fifteen minutes later, the leftover food has been placed in containers to be stored in the fridge and the dishes have been washed. Asher insisted on drying, and I have to admit that there’s something nice about standing beside him, doing domestic chores. It’s almost enough to have my mind wandering to the future and what it could look like. That’s not something I’ve ever allowed myself to do.
Once the kitchen has been tidied, I grab his hand and tow him to my bedroom before closing the door and leaning against the hollow wood. It’s not that I think Mom will have a problem with him staying over, but it feels awkward. Maybe I act like the parent more often than not, but she’s technically my mother. And no matter how many bills I’ve taken care of with my paycheck, it’s still her house.
“Now that you’ve got me here, what are you going to do with me?” His voice deepens as heat dances like blue flames in his eyes.
Good question.
Not to mention an interesting one.
When we have sex, Asher is always the aggressor and takes control of the situation.
Of me.
And I love it.
It took a bit of mental adjustment to admit that he’s right. I enjoy surrendering to him. I can’t imagine feeling comfortable or safe enough to do that with anyone else. It’s nice to let go and allow someone else to take control every once in a while.
But not always.
Maybe it’s time to turn the tables and take back some of the power.
Decision made, I shove away from the door and close the distance that separates us until I can reach out and stroke my hands over his T-shirt-clad chest. The sheer amount of power and strength he keeps tightly harnessed within him is impressive.
Tilting my head, I glance up from beneath the dark fringe of my lashes. “Hmmm. I’m not sure.”
One hand glides across his ribcage to his belly before drifting past the button of his jeans to his cock. He groans when my fingers tighten around the hard length. Just as he flexes his hips—pushing farther into my palm—I release him, sliding upward until they settle on the button of his fly and flick it open before dragging down the zipper. My hand delves into his boxer briefs and wraps around his erection. I remember that night in the restaurant when he cornered me, whispering in my ear that girls liked him because he was hung like a bull.
He wasn’t exaggerating.
The man is huge.
He also claimed it was because he knew how to eat pussy.
Just another thing he wasn’t lying about.
Not only is he able to bring me quickly to orgasm, but they’re strong enough to whip through my body like a force of nature. They leave me breathless and drained, wondering what the hell just happened.
“Mmm.” The sound that vibrates from his chest is deep and growly and turns me on like nothing else.
The need to touch more of him thrums through me. I slip my hand from the cottony material, grabbing the waistband of his jeans and underwear before shoving them down lean hips and muscular thighs until his dick springs free.
I take a few moments to appreciate the fact that Asher manscapes. The root of his cock and balls are clean shaven, and I have to admit that it looks so much better this way. I reach out and cup the soft weight of his sac in my palm, squeezing gently.
My gaze flicks upward before I slip my hand free and sink to my knees.
“Lola, baby,” he groans, “you don’t have to do that.”
I tilt my head until our gazes can lock. “I want to.”
That’s not something I ever thought would come out of my mouth. I’ve gone down on guys before, but it’s always felt like an unspoken expectation. This couldn’t be more different. I’m on my knees because that’s where I want to be, not because someone is making me feel like it’s necessary.
Asher has done nothing but take care of me these past couple of weeks, showing me so much pleasure and giving me exactly what I didn’t realize I needed. Not once has he demanded anything in return.
Our gazes cling as I lean forward and kiss the tip of his erection before nuzzling it. He’s hard as steel and yet so soft. I run the tip of my tongue from the bulbous head, down the length of his shaft, to the root before drifting lower to circle one ball and then the other.
Another deep, guttural sound explodes from him as he gently brushes the hair away from my eyes before tunneling his fingers through the thick strands. There’s a possessive edge to his touch as if he needs to lay claim to me the same way I do to him.