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BILLIE

A sher strides forward like a Greek god in a dress shirt that clings to him in all the right places.

He closes the distance between us and drops to his knees before me. I look down into his golden-brown eyes, taking in the shimmering flecks at this angle. When our gazes lock, my body temperature increases.

“Is this what you want, princess? Me on my knees, begging for you, just like this?” His voice is a deep rumble in the back of his throat.

The raw need in his eyes is almost enough to make me forgive him.

The air is thick with tension, unspoken words, and emotions that I haven’t fully processed yet. Time is what I need. But I also need Asher Banks.

His fingers trail up my thighs, making my skin prickle and making my breath hitch. We hold a silent conversation, but it’s so fucking loud.

“Pretty, pretty please forgive me,” he pleads, and it nearly undoes me. His face is a mess of regret and hunger, and I can see the way his cock is already straining against his pants, begging to be let out and put to work. “Please,” he rasps, his voice rough. “Let me make it up to you, princess.”

“Seems like you have thirteen years’ worth of making up to do,” I say.

His strong hands push up the soft fabric of my hoodie, and he leans forward, placing his warm lips on my stomach. I shiver, unable to stop him, wanting him to worship me as he grovels.

“I’ll do anything,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “Anything you want.”

I tilt my head, pretending to consider it, but really, I’m just savoring his desperate touch.

“Continue,” I say, fully aware that I’m no longer playing defense with him. If this were still a game, it’d be one I was winning.

“Fuck,” Asher groans low in his throat, holding me like I might disappear. “You’re a dream.”

My nipples are hard—because of him, because of this fucking tension, because I can feel his eyes on me, like he’s already undressing me with his mind.

“Please,” he mutters against my pussy, kneeling in front of me.

His hands move to my thighs, gripping me like I’m his anchor, his lifeline, his fucking salvation. And I want to be. His head is bowed, but I can see the tension in his jaw. The button-up shirt is rolled to his elbows, showing off those forearms that make me want to scream.

I drink in every inch of him, still upset that he didn’t tell me, but I understand why. Asher never got the real me, not until recently. My life has been a whirlwind since the moment he kissed me at Weston’s, and we’ve barely had time to slow down.

“I fucked up,” he grovels, his voice a sexy rasp. “I know I fucked up. But you know you’re mine, don’t you?”

His hands slowly slide up my thighs like he’s memorizing every inch of me, like this may be his last chance to ever touch me again. His fingers brush against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine. The other hand grips my hip, his fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp. His breath is warm against my stomach, and I can feel his lips hovering over my skin—so close, but not close enough.

“Do you hear me?” he demands, his voice like a fucking command. “I’ll make it right. I’m going to make you feel so fucking good that you’ll forget you ever hated me.”

His mouth finds my skin then, hot and wet and hungry. He kisses my stomach, his tongue darting out to taste me, and I swear I can feel it down to my clit. His hands are everywhere—my hips, my ass, my thighs—touching me like he’s branding me as his.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice broken. “Let me worship you the way you deserve, Ice Queen.”

I chew on the corner of my lip, my heart fluttering. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters in the world. He’s always looked at me that way.

He slides the waistband of my sweatpants down just enough to expose the curve of my ass, and his fingers slip under the fabric, teasing the edge of my panties. Asher’s strong hands claim every inch of me as he pushes my joggers down. Those beautiful lips brush against the inside of my thigh, and I can feel his hot breath close to my pussy. He’s teasing me, torturing me, and I can’t help but whimper. My hands fist in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he grows more desperate, more determined, as if that were even possible.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls against my skin. “Every inch of you. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that to you,” he promises.

His fingers hook into my panties, pulling them down at a snail’s pace and it feels like actual torture.

His mouth is back on me, hot and wet and so fucking sinful that I can barely breathe. His tongue is relentless, licking and sucking and devouring me like I’m his last meal. He slides his tongue in deeper, lapping me up like he’s completely addicted to the flavor of me .

Asher doesn’t take his eyes off me as he devours me.

“Fuck,” I finally moan, my hips rocking against his mouth, desperate for more.

“Mmm. I knew I’d get you to break your silence eventually,” he growls against me, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure coursing through my body.

His tongue circles my clit before he takes me into his hot mouth. My eyes bolt shut, and I swear I see stars exploding behind my eyelids.

One of his fingers slides inside me, curling just right, and I’m fucking gone. My legs shake, my knees go weak, but he holds me steady with his strong arms as I surrender to his fingers and tongue.

“That’s it,” he growls, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath warm against my skin. “Come for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

“No. I’m still mad at you,” I whimper, feeling the build as my muscles tense.

His fingers are inside me, and I’m trying not to scream, but, fuck, it’s hard when he’s moving them like that—curled just right, brushing against that spot that makes my legs shake with anticipation. He’s wearing that cocky-as-fuck smirk I’ve grown to adore, the one that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. His other hand is on my thigh, steadying me.

“Oh, you’re not gonna come yet, like a brat?” he whispers, his voice low.

His fingers move at a tortuous pace, and I whimper, squirming under him, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s in control; he always has been, and he knows it.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I gasp, my voice cracking with need. I sound pathetic, but I don’t care. I need him to keep going, to fuck me with his big fingers until I can’t think straight.

“Mmm. I can do this all goddamn night, but I think I’ve just decided that you’ll come when I say,” he tells me, and his lips transform into that smirk again. “Just say please.”

The way he moves his fingers—like he’s trying to drive me wild—is making it impossible for me to think. His thumb circles my clit, and I arch my back, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck you,” I hiss, but it comes out more like a moan than anything else.

“No, baby,” he says, his voice dripping with the perfect amount of arrogance that I both hate and love. “Fuck you.”

And then he pulls his fingers out, and I almost scream in frustration. Before I can say anything, he stands, lifting me in his arms and carrying me to the bedroom. Asher sets me on the bed, continuing to worship every inch of me as he fully undresses me.

He takes a step back, his gaze full of want and need. “Do you forgive me yet?”

“No,” I say, watching him unbutton his shirt, seeing the fabric fall to the floor.

Muscles cascade down his stomach, and I try to memorize every inch of him as he strips away the last of his clothes. Then he moves to the bed, hovering above me, his body radiating heat.

His cock waits outside my entrance as we stare into one another’s eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know. I don’t want to lose you,” I confess, my heart racing. “You’re one of my only constants.”

Asher softly kisses me, his thumb brushing against my cheek. The mood grows serious, emotional, and too intense. This isn’t just a kiss; it’s war—with each other, with ourselves—and right now, we’re fully surrendering. His tongue invades my mouth, hot and slick, twisting with mine. I can feel the heat of him pressing against me, his cock hard between my thighs, teasing the slickness he created. Asher hasn’t entered me yet, but, fuck, he’s so close.

Then he’s inside me, stretching me open, filling me up in a way that makes my head spin. He’s so damn gentle that it doesn’t feel like two people fucking out their frustrations. I can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into me, deep and deliberate, like he’s trying to erase every mistake he made.

He breaks the kiss, meeting my gaze with soft, hooded eyes, full of so much admiration that it nearly takes my breath away—“I love you. I always have.”

My emotions tear through me, and it feels so overwhelming. “I love you too.”

Our mouths crash together, and he kisses me as if he’s trying to make me forget my own name. Damn, the way his tongue slides against mine—deliberate and filthy—is like he’s mapping every inch of my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his lips, and it makes my head spin. His groan vibrates against my lips, deep and guttural, and I swear I can feel it in my fucking soul.

“You’re my religion,” he mutters.

His mouth trails down my neck, biting and sucking at my skin like he’s trying to leave a mark on me. I tilt my head back, moaning as his hands roam my body while his cock moves in and out of me.

“Fuck,” I moan, my fingers clutching the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping me on earth.

Each thrust hits that spot that makes me see stars, and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge as he fills me completely. But he’s not letting me fall yet. He slows down again, teasing me, driving me fucking insane with the way he moves inside me.

“Please,” I beg, my voice shaking, and he laughs again, but it’s softer this time, almost tender.

“Not yet,” he says, and then he pulls out completely, leaving me empty and aching.

I turn to glare at him, but before I can say anything, he’s sliding down me and spreading my legs wide. His mouth is back on my clit before I can even think, his tongue circling my sensitive bud, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Ash,” I moan, my fingers tangling in his hair as he licks and sucks, insistently driving me closer .

“Are you ready to come for me yet? Or do you want to keep playing games?” he asks, his voice muffled against me, and that’s all it takes.

I’m coming hard, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. He keeps going, his tongue relentless, until I come again. Seconds later, he’s repositioned above me, his thick cock at my entrance. His eyes are dark with the kind of hunger that makes my stomach flip as he slams into me. He’s hard and perfect.

I scream out his name, my pussy clenching around him so damn tight as my body continues to tremble.

This is ecstasy.

Asher is my drug, and I’m so damn addicted.

“You’re my everything,” he whispers into my ear as if he can read my thoughts then presses his mouth against mine.

I lose myself in the kiss, wrapping my legs around him, allowing him to fill me as full as possible. We’re in perfect sync, like we’re anticipating each other’s moves. The way he kisses me is passionate and raw, but also full of love. Electricity courses through my veins as he softly moans in my ear.

“Do you hear that?” I whisper. “That’s you surrendering to me.”

“Always.” His breathing increases, and his movements become more intentional.

The way he kisses me is passionate and raw, a fucking claim, but also full of something deeper as he thrusts inside me. I rake my nails down his back, and he groans.

“So close,” he whispers, leading me to the edge, and as if someone snapped their fingers, we’re falling together.

I cry out in pleasure as my pussy squeezes Asher’s throbbing cock, continuing to milk him. We’re breathless, sweaty, and tangled in each other’s arms. I feel the undeniable shift between us. When our lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss, I know he feels it too. It’s almost like a silent vow, a promise that he will always be there for me, always protect me .

After we clean up, Asher pulls me into his arms like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go. He kisses my forehead and holds me tight, inhaling the scent of my hair. Our legs are tangled together, and I never want this moment to end.

“We still have a lot to talk about,” I say, feeling his fingers drawing circles on my skin.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he promises, his gaze steady as I get lost in his eyes. “No more secrets. No more lies. No more half-truths.”

I lean in, sliding my lips gently across his. “You were never the villain.”

He smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. “And you were never the damsel, Ice Queen.”

A soft smile touches my lips.

“You have to break it off with Louis tomorrow,” he tells me.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because you’re mine, princess, and I don’t share.”