Page 22 of Nothing to Fear (Wicked Games #1)

Silas

M y senses are overloaded with everything that is Asher Ambrose. His scent, his touch, his goddamn voice, and the way he’s whispering against my skin. How did we get here? I’ve wanted him for so long, but never let myself imagine him like this until recently.

As if he’s reading my mind, his words nearly shatter me.

“Is this what you wanted, Silas? You wanted me to stroke your cock? You’re weeping for me, so damn hard and aching under my touch.

I bet you lie in bed at night and stroke it to thoughts of my wet mouth around you instead of your hand. Don’t you?”

“Ye-yes.” The words bubble out of me as I grip the fabric of my jeans, digging my nails into my thighs to keep me from moving.

God, I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want it to end.

He strokes me from base to tip. The fact that it’s Asher touching me right now?

I’m falling apart and we’ve barely started, precum oozing from my slit and into his hand.

I’ve never felt like this before. His touch.

It’s everything. It’s so much different than with anyone else I’ve been with before him, yet so comfortably familiar, I’m completely at ease.

Asher’s thumb swipes over my engorged head, gathering up the moisture and using it as lube to slide his fist more easily.

Chills race down my spine, goosebumps prickling across my skin.

I try to control my breathing, I do, but each breath comes heavy, strained, my chest rising and falling in a deep cadence.

I’ve never felt like this before. At a complete loss of control because I’ve given all of me up to Asher on a gold platter.

Asher’s deep, gruff voice breaks me out of the trance, my eyes shooting up to meet his. “Take me out.”

“Wh-what?” I stutter. He wants me to touch him?

“You heard me. You want this? Take out my cock so you can see exactly what you do to me. We’re not going to fight this. You’re not pushing me away this time.”

I pause at his words, his fist tightening around my length, forcing another groan to spill from my lips. His eyes are heavily lidded, lust filled, the dark obsidian iris of the center blown wide, and I swear there’s fire dancing behind them.

“Do it, Silas. Please touch me.” He grinds out the words between clenched molars as he expertly strokes up and down my dick. It’s a heady mix of a demand and a plea that I don’t want to ignore. What is happening to me?

With shaky fingers, I unbutton his pants, sliding down the zipper and pushing them over his hips, briefs in tow.

His cock springs free from the tight confines, massive and hard, the bulging head angry and red, beads of precum leaking from the tip and down his shaft. I can’t take my eyes away from it.

Not as it bobs heavily against his abdomen, the thick vein on the underside throbbing.

Not when he grasps it with his free hand, twisting and stroking, pinching the thick mushroom head .

And certainly—desperately—not when he presses it against mine, stroking us in tandem.

I’ve been with other men before, usually an exchange of hand jobs, blowjobs, or a quick fuck.

I’ve only ever experienced this kind of intimacy with one other person in my life.

With the masked stranger. But even that doesn’t hold a candle to seeing Asher’s facial expressions as our dicks are rubbed against each other.

Frotting is something I’ve always wanted but never had the balls to ask for since it’s so much more intimate. The feeling of Asher’s smooth, hard cock against mine makes my legs shake, and I’m near busting already.

Moans pour from our lips at the decadent contact of his warm, smooth flesh against mine.

The air around us is a thick and heady beast. The wind howls outside, the trees dancing in the moonlight, casting shadows through the stained glass window that lick up the dark walls of the hidden corridor.

The outside world is lost to me as my body relaxes further against the cold stone wall, the rough edges digging into my back as Asher brings us both pleasure.

“Fuck, slacker, you’re a temptation I didn’t need. Do you know how bad I want you? I knew you wanted me, Silas. You’ve ruined me. Look at how well we fit together. How can you fight this?”

I haven’t been able to look away, his hand jerking up and down our lengths. He’s right. We fit so perfectly together. Pleasure builds at the base of my spine, my eyes bouncing between where we’re joined and the intense features of his face.

Asher’s forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling, his eyes downcast at the erotic display between us as we chase our release.

My fists clench at my side, my blunt fingernails digging into my palms. His raven-black hair falls into his eyes, and the urge to reach out and push it back is strong.

I’m torn, stuck between what’s right and wrong.

I want him. Wanted him since the moment I saw him three years ago.

But to want him and have him are two different things.

We’ve been stuck in a cycle with each other for so long, I don’t know how to break it. I don’t know how to give myself over to him completely. Even if I’ve been able to give him glimpses, this is different.

This is a moment of weakness, one he surely won’t repeat. His words are said with no meaning behind them, passionate words said in the midst of a lust-filled haze. Can I live with knowing what his silken hair feels like between my fingers without ever touching it again?

His eyes meet mine, and the breath is stolen from my lungs. The fire roars behind them, forbidden and consuming. I should look away, but I can’t. Like a moth to a flame, I don’t stand a chance when it comes to him.

But then he takes it one step further, before I can react, before I even realize he’s done it, Asher’s lips land on my own.

The kiss is passionate, borderline brutal as he explores my mouth for the first time.

I groan against him as his hips fall forward, our cocks trapped, precum sticking to our abdomens.

His free hand grasps my face, his thumb swiping back and forth across my cheek, his tongue delving into my mouth, ravaging, pillaging, claiming. Destroying me with one kiss.

My hands finally find the strength to move, grasping his hips on either side, pulling him closer to me.

I kiss him back like I hate him. Like I don’t hate him at all.

I kiss him like the only thing in the world that matters is right this second, and I wish like hell I could make it last for eternity.

His hand grasps my face tightly, while mine grapples to pull him closer. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. My mind is out of control as I kiss him back, throwing everything I’ve kept locked up into it, letting him feel all of it .

When he breaks away, I chase his mouth, not ready for it to end.

“I want you to come for me, Silas,” he says as he combs his fingers through my hair, his eyes wild and consuming. “Come for me right now. There’s no turning back. Come for me and let me hear my name on your lips.”

As if he holds all the power over me, my body is compelled to listen, and I combust. The growing ember inside me ignites like a supernova, spreading throughout my body in waves of destruction.

My body trembles and shakes, my head falling back against the hard, cold stone. I gasp for air, and then I’m moaning.

“Asher!”

The last syllable has barely left my lips when a deep, guttural groan breaks through the surface of my haze.

I force my eyes open, wanting to watch as he succumbs to the pleasure.

Ropes of cum erupt from his slit, his shoulders slumping and shaking.

His firm grip on our lengths stutters, the pace at which he strokes us slowing as we come down from the pleasure.

Asher’s heated stare is focused between us, his hand releasing our lengths.

Icy air rushes over me, a phantom wind that cools my skin and sends a chilly warning through my body.

I sway on my feet slightly, the primal fog clearing, grave reality setting in.

What did I just do? Anyone could have walked around the corner and found us.

What the fuck would I have done? How would I have explained this?

“Jesus Christ, Silas. You made a mess of us,” he states in a tone that heats my cooling skin all over again.

I watch with rapt attention as he lifts his hand to his mouth, dragging his tongue up the center of his palm to the tips of his fingers, gathering up the combined releases of our orgasms. My eyes flutter closed with lust, pleasure rising in me again.

“Delicious. We taste so good together. Are you going to run from this? I’ll happily chase you down.”

“I-I don’t . . .” What the fuck am I doing? Asher’s eyes flicker with doubt, and my heart nearly cracks wide open. He’s all I’ve wanted for years, and he’s giving himself to me. Why the hell would I walk away from that? There’s only one answer.

Fear.

As if he can read my mind, Asher’s hand cups my cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth across my skin, grounding me, giving me a sense of security and comfort that I’ve never felt before.

“There’s nothing to fear. I’ve got you. We’ll do this together.”

But it’s not enough. Voices echo from down the hall, and I press my hands against Asher’s chest to put some space between us. Quickly righting myself, tucking my softening dick away, and shrugging my jacket back on, I don’t dare meet Asher’s eyes. I can’t do this.

“You’re just gonna run, then?”

“There’s nothing else to say.”

“You’ve been hiding who you are. I see you, Silas, and I’m obsessed with what I see. Let me help you.”

I turn so quickly in his direction, I swear I hear my neck crack. “No. You’ve done enough.”

Asher laughs. Actually laughs. “Oh, I haven’t even scratched the surface.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that now that I’ve had you? Now that I know there’s more to you than being a slacker jock,” he pauses and chuckles under his breath, “now that I know what you sound like when you come, what your cum tastes like, what your lips taste like, I’m not giving it up.”

His words send goosebumps scattering across my skin as the moon outside comes into full view, lighting up the little hallway we’re hiding in.

Asher’s features are dark and ominous, sending chills down my spine.

His face is flushed with a rosy hue, the dark features illuminated, making him look otherworldly.

I want to stay so badly. Want him to be telling the truth, want everything to just be easier. But it’s not.

“You have to.”

I walk away from Asher with lead boots, my heart splintering into shards behind my ribcage.

Every breath feels labored, every step feels painful.

Asher doesn’t chase me, thankfully, seemingly knowing what I need without me having to ask for it.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins like a live wire, the only thing keeping one foot moving in front of the other.

The party gets louder and louder as I walk into the communal rooms, everyone there dressed in costumes, the lights turned low, strobe lights blinking rapidly. My head swims, and I sway on my feet.

A firm hand lands on my shoulder from behind me, causing me to startle.

“Damn, dude. Come down! Where you been? Holy shit we’re you just hookin’ up?

” Eli asks. He’s a good guy, the one I’m closest to on the team, and for a split second, I think about opening up to him and coming clean.

Outing myself as gay and that I just hooked up with Asher Ambrose.

But then he opens his mouth again, and my courage fizzles.

“Who’s the lucky girl? Did you finally nail Carly? ”

Who the hell is Carly?

“Nah, man, you know I don’t kiss and tell,” I reply.

“It’s bro code! You’re supposed to spill to your bros! Who was she? Was she a screamer? A squirter? Let you stick it in her ass?”

“Okay, fuckface, you’ve clearly had too much to drink. ”

“She did, didn’t she? She let you stick it in her ass!”

Nope. But I was two seconds away from begging Asher to stick it in mine.

“We’re done here, let’s get you home,” I tell him as I take the Solo cup from his hand, handing it to a rando as I usher him out of the room.

“But I wanna party more, Si-Si!”

“We are not calling me that. Practice is gonna be so fuckin’ fun for you tomorrow.”

“Shhh! We don’t talk about practice!” he singsongs to a Disney movie beat.

With Rome’s drunk ass hanging off of me, we stumble out of the house.

My eyes connect with familiar dark brown eyes as Rome grabs my cheeks, squished between one of his hands, as he continues to laugh.

My heart sinks, wondering what this must look like, but Asher doesn’t look fazed by Rome’s presence, his eyes tracking my steps as he pulls the inside of his cheek between his molars, his lips pursing.

After a single nod, Asher turns and walks in the opposite direction from us.

It takes everything in me to continue on toward Harrow House, when all I want to do is chase down a specific man with dark raven hair and claim him as my own.

Too bad I let fear run my life.