Page 22

22

BILLIE

T he house is dark, except for the flicker of candlelight. Our shadows are tall on the walls. My heart pounds so damn hard that I can hear blood pumping in my ears. Asher’s hand brushes against mine, and my entire body tingles with anticipation. I’ve wanted this for so long, and now that it’s happening, I’m ready to make his brain explode.

He leans his back against the couch, legs spread. Asher’s inviting me into his orbit, a place I’ve not been welcome until now. His eyes are heavy, and those perfect fucking lips part just enough to make me want to devour them. But no, not yet. This isn’t about me. This is about him. About making him feel so good that he forgets his name. I want him to know how it feels to be vulnerable with me.

It was always him.

My knees sink into the fluffy rug, and I focus on the bulge in his joggers, straining against the fabric. My mouth waters as I look at it—hard, long, thick. I press my hands against his thighs, feeling the heat of him through the cotton, and lean in close enough to feel his breath hitch.

“Surrender.”

“Only because you did first,” he says, his voice full of want .

My fingers work at his waistband, slow and deliberate. His cock springs free, already leaking at the tip. I lick my lips, my tongue darting out to taste the salty pre-cum before I even wrap my mouth around him.

The first touch of my lips to his dick sends a shiver through both of us. He groans, low and guttural, causing my pussy to clench at the raw sound. It’s encouragement. I start slow, letting my tongue swirl around the head, teasing the slit, savoring the way his hips twitch beneath me. My hand wraps around the base, pumping him in time with my mouth. His fingers grip my hair, not pulling yet, but holding on like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“Ready to surrender yet?”

I take him deeper, inch by inch, until I feel him hit the back of my throat. My eyes water, but I don’t stop. I fucking love the way he fills me, the way he throbs against my tongue. His cock is a dream, and I can’t get enough of it. I suck harder, bobbing my head faster now, and his grip tightens in my hair.

“Yes.” His voice cracks. “You’re trying to break me.”

“Returning the favor,” I moan around him, the vibration making him curse even louder.

His hips start to buck as he fucks my mouth, and I let him. I let him take control, let him use me until he’s panting and shaking below me. I can feel him getting closer, his cock twitching in my mouth, and I double down, sucking him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, Billie,” he hisses. “I’m …”

“Mmm.” I nod, slowing down to a snail’s pace.

His body trembles as I teeter him on the edge for minutes as he holds my hair tight. I pull away, smirking, denying him his orgasm.

“Not in my mouth,” I say.

His eyes darken, swirling with something I can’t describe.

“I want you inside of me. Claim me, Ash,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t prepared.”

“I’m on birth control. I want to feel you with nothing between us. Just me and you, Ash. ”

He nods, giving me the permission I need.

The room is alive with the flicker of firelight, and the rain taps against the windows. It’s dreamy and warm. Wax has begun pooling around the candles, and the air smells like sex and sin.

My breath is ragged, my chest heaving as I press him down onto his back on the rug. My knees dig into the plush fibers as I straddle him. His body is a fucking masterpiece under me: broad shoulders, a chest carved from granite, and that cock—Christ, his cock—thick and straining against my thigh, already leaking pre-cum like a goddamn faucet. I don’t let him enter me yet.

My hand dips between my legs and wraps around him, squeezing just enough to make him hiss, his hips bucking up into my grip.

“I want you buried so deep inside me that I can feel you in the back of my fucking throat.”

“Fuck, you’re a goddamn tease,” he groans.

His hands grab my hips, fingers digging into my skin like he’s trying to mark me, to claim me. I don’t let up, stroking him slow and deliberate against my pussy, randomly swiping my thumb over the sensitive tip, spreading that slick wetness down his shaft. He trembles underneath me, muscles strained, his veins bulging, and I can feel every inch of him suspended. He’s already so damn close that I can see him fighting for control.

“Don’t you fucking come,” I whisper, leaning down. My lips brush his ear. “But you want to, don’t you? Want to spill yourself all over me? Inside me? Too fucking bad. You’re mine tonight—every inch of you—and I decide when you get to feel good after how you teased me for years.”

I bite his earlobe hard enough to make him curse, and his hips jerk again, his cock twitching in my hand.

“I’m in control, Asher Maxwell Banks,” I state.

His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with need, defiance, and pure desperation. He’s exactly where I want him.

I straddle him fully now, my thighs framing his hips, and I grind myself against him, letting him feel how wet I am. The friction against my clit is electric, and I moan, my head falling back as I rub against him shamelessly.

“Bad fucking girl,” he mutters, his hands moving to my ass, pulling me harder against him. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“You turn me on.” I reach behind me, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. He’s strong—stronger than me—but he doesn’t fight it. He lies there, watching me with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling, like he’s halfway to losing his mind.

I dip down, kissing the tattoos across his chest, then capture one of his nipples in my mouth. I hear him groan, like he’s drowning in pleasure.

“It’s never felt like this before,” he whispers.

I pause, hovering above him.

“Not for me either,” I admit.

Our bodies are so close, but not quite touching.

“I need you,” he confesses.

“Beg,” I mutter. “Beg me.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice wrecked. “I need to feel you around me, need to be inside you so bad that it fucking hurts. Please, let me stretch your cute little cunt wide so you can feel me tomorrow.” He lifts his brow, his tone changing. “Princess, your cunt is dripping wet for me. You’re basically quivering—you want me so damn bad. This is torture for you. Maybe you should be the one begging, babe.” He sits up on his elbows, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth, tugging hard and sucking. “I haven’t fucking come since the night I kissed you at Weston’s, and I’m going to fill you so fucking full that it leaks down your leg, you greedy fucking brat.”

I gasp by how turned on it makes me. My breasts rise and fall.

“Mmm. I felt that pussy wink.” He smirks. “You like being treated like my equal. Not a porcelain princess.”

I lean down and kiss him, losing myself as he teases my entrance.

“You’ve been saving yourself for me?” I ask .

“Yes,” he admits, casually putting his arm behind his head. Biceps flexing. He’s relaxed—we both are. “Now, let me fucking break you how you deserve.”

“Please do,” I mutter, the mood morphing into something else completely as I sink onto him inch by agonizing inch. I moan out, needing this.

He’s so large that he stretches me open in the best way possible. I take my time, savoring how he feels as he fills me, adjusting my hips as needed. When our ends meet, I lean forward, my hands on his chest for balance, and I feel like he might crack me in half.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks, his hands on my thighs.

I nod. “Yes. You just …” I take in ragged breaths. “It’s so much.”

“Take it as slow as you need,” he says. “Let me know when it’s in the back of your throat.”

I burst into laughter, and Asher grabs my thighs.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

At first, I start with just a lazy roll of my hips, our gazes locked. I find myself getting used to him and move harder and faster until I’m slamming onto him with utter desperation. The sound of our moans echoes through the room, mingling with the crackling fire and the storm outside. His hands are on my hips again, guiding me, helping me take him deeper, harder, until we’re both gasping for air.

“You feel so fucking good. Like you were made for me,” he moans, his voice barely recognizable. “So tight, so wet.”

His fingers dig into my hips hard enough to leave bruises, and I love it—love the way he’s so desperate for me.

I lean forward again, my lips brushing his as I whisper, “Come for me, Asher. Come inside me.”

That’s all it takes.

With a guttural groan, he spills himself inside me, his cock pulsing as he finishes deep in my core. I can feel every fucking twitch of him as he comes undone beneath me, and it’s enough to push me over the edge too. My body clenches around him, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I ride out my own orgasm, milking every last drop from him until we’re both trembling with satisfaction.

I collapse on top of him on the rug, our bodies intertwined, our breathing heavy. He’s still inside me, still connected to me in the most intimate way possible. The storm rages outside, but here, in this moment, there’s nothing but us—our bodies, our heat, our love.

I smile softly, running my fingers through his hair. “I want to do that again.”

“Fuck, you’re obsessed,” he says against my neck, his voice more tender now.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” I say.

“It’s not, babe. It’s mutual,” he tells me.

“I don’t want this to end,” I whisper.

And just like that, the desperation fades into something softer—something real.

I pull back, admiring his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Asher looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“It doesn’t have to,” he rasps.

“Just promise me you have this all figured out,” I tell him, and he holds me tighter to his chest.

“I promise.” He grins. “You’re my endgame, Ice Queen.”

I’m a changed woman after spending four days with Asher. I roll over, his arm wrapped around me as the sunshine beams through the windows. We stayed up most of the night talking and enjoying one another’s company, knowing that this ease and comfort would disappear as soon as we left.

“Good morning, princess,” he whispers in my ear .

I roll over onto my back as his fingers slide into my panties. I grab his wrist, gasping as he gently brushes over my clit.

“I was wrong about you,” I confess as his circles on my clit grow more deliberate.

“I’m aware. Glad we’re finally on the same page,” he says, kissing my neck, pulling away, leaving my pussy throbbing for attention. “We should go.”

“We have five minutes,” I whimper, squeezing my thighs together, needing him more than I need air.

He shifts, his lips brushing my shoulder, and laughs. “I should leave your pussy begging for me.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I mutter.

“I wouldn’t. Can’t get enough of you,” he coos, his voice rough from sleep.

His hand slides down my stomach, slow and possessive, and I bite my lip when his fingers dip between my legs, stroking the slick heat he left there.

“You’re still wet,” he says, and the rasp in his tone makes my hips roll, and I want more of him.

“You’re still hard,” I shoot back, my voice trembling as his fingers curl inside me, stretching me in that way that makes my breath catch.

He chuckles, and I can feel his cock swell against my leg, eager and thick.

“Always around you,” he growls, and then he’s rolling me onto my back, his body hovering above mine.

Asher claims me with a desperate and hungry kiss. His tongue fucks my mouth as his cock slides between my thighs, teasing my clit with each thrust. I moan against him, pulling him closer, needing him deeper.

“Break me,” I breathe against his lips, my voice shaking with want. “Fuck me so hard that I feel you for a week.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs my hips, lifting them so he can slide into me with one brutal thrust that punches the air from my lungs. I gasp, my nails digging into his skin as he stretches me open in the best fucking way. He pauses for a moment, his forehead pressed to mine, our breaths mingling as we both adjust to the feeling of him inside me.

“Billie,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion, and I can see it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the fear. “I think I’m falling for you,” he confesses, and it’s like the room tilts.

My heart squeezes in my chest, but before I can respond, he’s moving, his hips pounding against mine in a rhythm that’s relentless and delicious.

“I feel the same,” I whimper and repeat myself to make sure he heard me. “I feel exactly the same.”

Every thrust hits that sweet spot inside me, and I’m already close, my body tightening around him like a vise. He groans, his fingertips dig into my hips as he fucks me harder, his cock sliding in and out with a wet, filthy sound that only makes me hotter.

“You’re mine.” His voice is rough.

“I’m yours,” I moan, as if giving the final words to a spell to complete it.

I arch into him as the pleasure builds. The orgasm puts me in a choke hold, my body tensing tighter and tighter until my control snaps. The orgasm rushes through me, my body shudders as I come hard around his cock. My cries are muffled against his chest.

Asher follows me over the edge with a groan, his cock pulsing inside me as he spills himself deep, filling me with his warmth.

We collapse together, a tangle of limbs and sweat, and for a moment, it’s perfect. But then reality creeps back in, and I can feel the ache in my chest grow as he pulls away, his body leaving me cold.

Asher helps me clean up and then sits on the bed’s edge.

“Before this, you made a promise,” he reminds me, his voice soft but firm. He runs a hand through his messy hair. “You have to hate me. I know it’s hard as hell. Try your very best. ”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I sit up, too, the sheet pooling around my waist. “I will.”

He searches my eyes. “Billie, I will have to do and say things that will not make sense to you. I will be an asshole. I will be rude. Please know that I don’t mean anything I say unless it’s just us, okay? Everything else is bullshit.”

“Okay,” I tell him.

“To make it up to you, I will make another promise. Anytime I cause you any amount of pain or frustration, I will replace it with pleasure.”

“How? We won’t be able to see each other.” I search his face.

He nods. “I’ve decided I’m moving back into my loft. I’ll meet you at sunset each day, unless I absolutely can’t.”

My brow lifts. “Okay, so back to this pain-payback plan. Should I keep a tally? I mean, at your current rate, you’ll keep me coming until the end of next year.”

He smirks. “That’s the point, princess. One day, it will all make sense. I promise, one day, I’ll tell you everything. But right now, I have to protect you. Everything I say or do is for that reason.”

My heart skips a beat at his words, and I can’t stop myself from reaching for him, my fingers brushing his cheek.

“I trust you,” I whisper.

He leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and full of promises I know he’ll keep.

“Now, how about you make it look like you’re trying to save your company?”

I roll my eyes. “You have no idea what I’m working on.”

Asher smirks. “I can’t wait for you to tell me.”

When we finally pull away, the room feels too quiet. He gets up first, pulling on his clothes.

“Who wins this?” I ask, getting dressed too. My hands tremble as I button my shirt.

“The queen. She’s the most powerful piece in this game,” he takes two steps toward me, removing the space, and kisses me .

We don’t speak as we leave the room, the silence heavy between us, but when we reach the door, he pauses, his hand on the knob. I slide on my riding gear, stuff my clothes into my backpack, and pop on my helmet.

“Fuck, you look sexy,” Asher says.

I give him a smirk and climb onto the bike, cranking it. He walks to his car.

“Banks,” I yell out to him.

He turns and glances at me. “Yes?”

“Fuck off.”

He smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, easily turning on the asshole version of himself. “Nice to see you again, Ice Queen . Enjoy your ride back to hell.”

We share a silent moment, and then I shut my visor. As I drive away, I already miss him. Us. And everything we shared.