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ASHER

I grip her hips as I pull her into the loft with me, pinning her against the closed door while we lose ourselves in the kiss. My hand slides down to her perfect ass in those tiny shorts that drive me insane. I yank her closer, pressing the hardness in my pants against her, and she moans into my mouth—a sound so fucking obscene that it sends a jolt straight to my dick.

My fingers slip under the hem of her shorts, finding the wet heat of her pussy waiting for me like a fucking feast. She’s not wearing panties, and she’s soaked through the material. Her slickness coats my fingers as I push one inside her. She moans with pleasure, giving me soft pants. Her walls clench around me like they’re trying to steal my soul. I’d willingly give it to her for more of this—for her.

“ Fuck ,” she gasps against my mouth, nails digging into my scalp as I add another finger, curling them just right to make her legs shake.

Her clit is swollen and begging for attention, and I flick it with my thumb, the rhythm brutal and relentless.

Her pussy is bare and perfect, and I want her on my face, riding my tongue .

I messily slide my mouth across her cheek to her ear. “You hate me, huh?” I snarl, my breath hot against her skin as I work her harder and faster.

She gives me several little moans, an approval as she grinds into me with her back arched.

“You fucking hate this so much that you want more? Mmm. Greedy fucking girl.”

“Yes,” she desperately answers.

Her whimpers betray her as her hips buck against my hand. Her pussy is a vise—slick and tight—and I can feel her trembling, that telltale tension building as she teeters on the brink of coming all over my fucking hand. She rides me almost to the edge. When every muscle tenses and her breathing morphs into moans, I stop.

I pull my fingers out of her with a wet sound that makes her cry out in frustration. Her body jerks like I just ripped her heart out. Her eyes fly open—wild and desperate—and I smirk, placing my fingers deep into my mouth just to see her squirm.

“You taste so fucking good,” I say, my voice dripping with venom and satisfaction. This is proof that I have control, not her. “But it seems like the Ice Queen needs to cool off.”

“You’re denying me?” she grits out breathlessly, staring at me, nipples hard as hell.

If looks could kill, I’d be dead, laid out on the floor, staring up at her sexy body with stars in my eyes. Billie is a constellation of beauty, even if a storm surrounds her.

Her disdain for me is so obvious that I find it entertaining. This woman has never been denied a thing in her life. Just like the other Calloways, she has always gotten everything she wanted. Her father made sure of it.

Her plump lips are swollen from my rough kisses, her hair a glorious mess. I want her. I need her. But I also know we’ve been drinking, and I will respect her in the most disrespectful way because she responds to it. She’s a spoiled brat, and taming her, showing her she isn’t in control, will be a challenge .

I chew on my lip, smiling at how dripping wet she is. My princess is soaked.

“I hate you so fucking much.” She smooths down her shorts.

“Good. It’s best if you keep it that way.”

“I will get you back. And it will be so much worse,” she snaps.

“I honestly can’t wait,” I tell her.

“That was the first and last opportunity you’ll ever get with me, Banks. I won’t make that mistake again.” She seethes, opening the door.

“Can’t wait to make you eat a shit sandwich full of your words,” I mutter, my voice gravelly as I watch her from the doorway.

I cross my arms over my chest. She flips me off as she walks away with trembling legs, wet shorts, and nipples so hard that they could cut glass. Anger radiates off her, and I can tell she’s turned on.

Unfortunately, I’m not immune; my cock throbs painfully in my pants. I’m tempted to go to her, lift her into my arms, and carry her back to my bedroom. I’d fuck her until she couldn’t walk, imprinting my cock so deep inside her that she’d know she belonged to me from that moment on. No one else. Even if we hate each other.

Billie enters her loft and slams the door.

I chuckle, loving how well I’ve learned her.

I escape inside, feeling like a stranger here.

My cock is a goddamn ticking time bomb, throbbing like it’s got a heartbeat of its own. It’s so hard that it’s practically begging for mercy, but I’m not in the mood to give it any relief—not yet. I fumble with my pants, fingers trembling like a fucking teenager as I unbutton and unzip. The second my dick springs free, it’s like it’s got a mind of its own, standing at full attention, pre-cum already pooling at the tip, like it’s ready to explode.

I’m a mess, and it’s all because of her.

Billie. That bratty, spoiled little queen who’s been driving me insane for years. Ever since we met, she’s been the thorn in my side, the itch I can’t scratch, the fire I can’t put out.

And tonight? Tonight, she was here. In my apartment. Those icy-blue eyes that see right through me, those full lips that could ruin me if she ever decided to use them properly. We had drunk too much, and she let me touch her. Fuck, she wanted me. I almost kept going. I almost gave her what she desperately wanted. Afterward, I’d have fucked her senseless.

Now I’m here, alone, with nothing but the memory of her, along with the scent on my fingers and the taste of her on my tongue.

I bring my hand up to my nose and inhale deeply. She smells like sin and salt, like something sweet and dangerous that I know I shouldn’t want but can’t resist. God, she tasted even better—like trouble that could destroy me if I let it. I want her to ruin me, to take me apart piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the sound of her name on my lips.

I storm into my bedroom, stripping off my clothes like they’re on fire. The sheets are cool against my skin as I slide between them, but they do nothing to calm the heat burning through me. My hand finds my cock again, and I don’t waste any time. I wrap my fingers around it, squeezing just hard enough to make my breath hitch, and start stroking. Slow at first, just to tease myself, because I know I’m not gonna let this end anytime soon. Not yet.

I close my eyes, and there she is. Billie.

Fucking Billie.

Her black hair falls around her gorgeous face as she looks up at me from between my legs, those blue eyes locked on mine, like she’s daring me to stop her. Her tongue flicks out, catching the pre-cum on the tip of my cock, and I swear I can feel it—hot and wet and so fucking perfect.

“Fuck,” I growl, my grip tightening as I imagine her swallowing me down, taking me so deep that I can feel the back of her throat.

My hips buck up into my hand as I stroke harder, faster, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. I can almost hear her moaning, those soft little noises she makes when she’s losing control, and it’s enough to make my balls tighten.

But I’m not gonna let myself come.

Not yet.

Not until I’ve imagined every detail of what I’d do to her if I had her here right now.

I start with her mouth. Those lips wrap around me, sucking until I’m dizzy. Then I flip her over, spread her legs, and bury my face between them until she screaming my name. She tastes like heaven—I know it; I can feel it. She’s so fucking wet for me, her pussy clenching around my tongue as I lick and suck and tease her until she begs me to fuck her.

And I would.

Oh, I fucking would.

I push inside her, inch by inch, until she’s full of me, until she’s gasping and clawing at my back like she can’t get close enough. I fuck her until she’s a whimpering mess, coming so hard that she forgets her own name.

And then I do it again. And again. And again.

But she’s not here. She’s in her apartment, probably lying in bed, thinking about me, just like I’m thinking about her. I bet she’s touching herself right now, fingers sliding in the slickness I caused between her legs as she thinks about what we did tonight. She’s such a fucking brat, but she can’t help herself—she wants me just as much as I want her. She has to. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have let me touch her. She liked watching me taste her.

My hand moves faster now, my hips jerking up into my grip as I imagine her riding me, taking control like the spoiled little princess she is.

She’s so fucking tight, her pussy gripping me like a vise as she rides my cock, her tits bouncing with every movement.

I can almost hear her moaning my name, begging me to fill her up, to make her mine. That’s what she really wants. That’s what her cold eyes say each time they meet mine.

But I can’t. Not yet .

I force myself to stop, my hand stilling just as I feel the edge of an orgasm creeping up on me.

My body screams for release, but I deny it, squeezing the base of my cock to keep myself from coming. This isn’t about relief; it’s about control.

About proving to myself that I can resist her, even if it fucking kills me.

I collapse back against the pillows, chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.

She’s buried deep under my skin—that much is clear.

And one day, when she’s ready—when we’re ready—I’ll make her mine.

But until then? This is all I get. This is all she gets.

And it has to be enough.

I have to know when to hold them and when to fold them. Too much is at stake.