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Asher’s tongue fucks me from behind, and I want more of him. His tongue and mouth return to my sensitive bud as he fully devours me, and I can barely take it. He’s relentless, working me so fucking good that I see full galaxies.
“I’m gonna come,” I whisper, my voice breaking as the orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of pleasure ripping through my body.
He doesn’t stop, working me through it until I’m a trembling mess, begging for mercy.
But he’s not done with me yet. Before I can catch my breath, he’s sliding down his pajama pants. My heart hammers in my chest as his thick cock springs free. Asher slowly pushes into me, inch byglorious inch. He’s so fucking big, stretching me in the best way possible as he fills me.
“You were made for me,” he mutters, his fingers digging into my hips as he pounds into me.
I scream his name with every thrust, wanting more, wanting all of him. He fucks me like he’s claiming me, like he’s trying to make sure I’ll never forget him. And, God, I don’t ever want to forget. The way he feels inside me, the way he looks at me—like I’m the only fucking thing that matters in the world—it’s intoxicating.
“I’m yours, Ash,” I whisper, my nails digging into his back as he drives into me again and again.
“Say it like you mean it, princess,” he says.
“I’m yours,” I scream out. “And you’re mine, Ash. You fucking belong to me now.”
“Fuck yes,” he growls in response, his hips slamming into mine as we both lose ourselves in the heat of it.
When he comes, it’s with a roar, his cock pulsing inside me as he spills himself deep. I can feel him everywhere—in my body, in my fucking soul—and I know there’s no going back from this.
I crumble again, clinging to him as the waves of pleasure crash over us both, our bodies trembling together in the aftermath. We stay like that for what feels like forever, wrapped up in each other, neither of us willing to let go.
The warmth of his body next to mine and the soft rhythm of his breathing make everything else fade away. And as we drift to sleep, legs tangled in the sheets, I know I’m falling for him. Hard.
I just hope I can survive him.
25
ASHER
TWO DAYS LATER
The early sunrise floods through my window, waking me before my alarm sounds. I stretch my arm out, feeling the cool sheets, where she was just hours ago. I’m already missing Billie, wishing her warm body was pressed against mine. I love how perfectly she molds to me when we lie together. She snuck out after I fell asleep, per usual—which I appreciate because Ihatewatching her go.
After showering and getting dressed, I move to my home office and open the bottom drawer. Inside is a black leather folio with worn edges, and I pull it out, taking it to the kitchen with me. As I brew a cup of coffee, I open it.
I flip past the cover page after scanning over the words—Project Glass Slipper.
What started as a quiet mission has morphed into something else entirely. Maybe Easton and Weston suspected it would the entire time. Maybe they saw something I didn’t.
Once the caffeine hits, I pull eggs and bacon from the fridge.Just as I grab a skillet, there’s a soft tap at my door. I hurry to grab the folio, sliding it into a cabinet, and then rush over.
Billie stands before me in a sleek black pantsuit. Her hair is slicked back, and her lips are a bold, dark red. She holds a box of doughnuts. “Breakfast?”
I appreciate the view of her. “Are you on the menu?”
“I wish. I have to be at the office in thirty minutes for a meeting about London Fashion Week. Dreading it, honestly.”
I lean against the door as she hands me the box. “You do look good enough to eat.”
This earns me her perfect smile.
She grabs my tie, stealing a quick kiss. “Navy blue looks good on you.”
“You’d look better on me,” I mutter, unable to resist the tease.
“Stop. You’ll make me late, and I cannot be,” she says, sounding stressed, but she shakes her head with a laugh. “Have a great day, Banks.”