Page 42 of Creatures Like Us

“Wh-What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m just holding you. Don’t worry—I’m not going to touch your dick if you don’t want me to. I’m not even sureIwant to. But this?…” He slides closer, and I feel his erection press against the curve of my ass as his hand grips me even tighter. “This feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I gasp. “It does.”

Oddly enough, I don’t feel scared or unsettled to have him hold me like that. It feels?…?comforting, in a way. I can’t make sense of my feelings, but I don’t care; I just want his hands on me, regardless of the consequences.

He mumbles low into my ear, “You like this a lot.”

“Yeah. I like it.” My pants feel constricting, the fabric stretched so tight over my crotch that I fear my cock might rip right through it. I could end this at any moment, yet I feel completely in Asher’s control, under his mercy. And I like it. “Do you?”

“Yeah. I feel your pulse?…?It’s so quick. But you’re not afraid, are you?”

“No. Not afraid.”

“What, then?”

“I?…?I don’t—”

“Shh. I know what you are.” His grip tightens to the point I have to fight to get air into my lungs.

I feel weightless and dizzy in a pleasant way. Next, he slides his other hand under my shoulders, and he lets the thumb of that hand travel up my chin and skirt my lips. I part them willingly. Further, further, he presses down on my lower lip, and I invite his thumb into my mouth, my tongue meeting the salt of his skin. His other fingers dig into my cheek, the touch as demanding as it is affectionate. He inhales a sharp breath behind me, and his hips press tighter against my ass. At the same time, he slides his thumb deeper into my mouth, and I groan at the pressure.

A searing heat spreads through my body.

A whimper tears from my throat.

Asher presses himself against me, tighter, tighter, and I feel it distinctly: his erection twitching, so hot and hard that even with unrestricted airflow, I wouldn’t be able to breathe right.

“That’s it,” he mumbles into my ear. “Whimper for me, Noah.” His thumb slips out of my mouth, and he rubs my own saliva across my lips, back and forth, making them wet and slippery. “Let me hear you,” he groans, letting some of the pressure off my throat.

“Ash?…” His name comes out as a breathless whimper, pleading and wanton. I didn’t even know I could make a sound like that. “Please.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh fuck?…” His hips push hard against my ass, swiveling, jerking, shaking. He lets out a long, wrecked moan, his hand gripping me so tight I can’t get an inch of air into my throat.

Then?…?it’s over. His grip on me lessens. The tension that was previously palpable in the air snaps and evaporates, and Asher rolls to his back, away from me. I turn around too, and we lie next to each other, panting.

“Sorry,” Asher mumbles, for the second time this morning.

“For what?” My voice feels raw, affected by his grip, his touch.

He rolls over to his side, facing away from me. Now that I don’t have his hands on me anymore, my own hardness is rapidly dwindling, even if the ache is still there. That’s fine. I don’t have to come; I just have to make sure Asher is okay.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?”

He lets out a snort. “I liked it too much.”

Can there be such a thing? He seems to think he did something wrong, but I can’t see what would be wrong about what just happened between us.

I can still feel the indents of his fingertips on my throat, and I want to look at them in the mirror. I want to see the evidence of his desire. I want him to bruise me further, put his mark on me, but it doesn’t seem like he wants to go on. Seems more like he wants to forget the whole thing even happened.

“I liked it too,” I say, desperate to reassure him, to do anything to make him change his mind.

“Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

He drags a hand through his hair, sighing. “Did you, really? Like it? Me just?…?using you like that? Hurting you?”