“Come, now, Skittle,” he roars as I feel his own orgasm crash over him. That’s all it takes to send me over the edge.
For a moment, it's like everything freezes, the pleasure so intense that my brain just can’t process it for a moment, until everything comes rushing back in a wave of sound and color.
I’m vaguely aware of Asher untying my arms, gently rubbing my wrists to get the blood flowing again. He collapses on the sofa and pulls me on top of him, his clothing feeling rough as it rubs against my over-sensitized skin.
“Holy fucking shit, that was...”
“Amazing,” I finish for him because it was.
I need to move, but my legs are unlikely to hold me right now. Perhaps I could crawl off Asher and go and clean up but quickly veto that idea. My body feels boneless and sated. I'm pretty sure the building could fall down around us and I’d still choose to stay precisely where I am.
“You okay?” he asks, his lips against my forehead as he gently runs his fingers up and down my spine.
Okay is not the word I would use.
“I'm perfect.”
Twenty-Six
Asher
Within minutes, she’s asleep, the soft cadence of her breathing making me want to lie here with her forever. I soak in the moment, just holding her to me, enjoying the stillness around us. I never got to talk to her, but I have no regrets. Fuck me, what we did was spectacular.
Letting me restrain her like that takes trust, and I know by holding the truth back from her, I'm pulling the string that connects us tighter and tighter. If I don’t come clean soon, the string will snap, causing irreparable damage.
Aware that the nights get chilly, I somehow manage to climb to my feet with Skittle in my arms, who, except for a moan, remains asleep. I carry her quietly to our bedroom and lay her down on the bed. Grabbing a cloth from the bathroom, I wipe gently between her thighs, trying not to disturb her.
Just the sight of her naked body sprawled out on our bed has my already sated dick getting hard all over again, but I ignore him. Instead, I jump in a cold shower, towel off, and head back into the living room naked. I place the food in the fridge and make sure everything is locked up before going back to my room, climbing in beside Skittle and pulling the blanket up over our bodies.
Tugging her close, I wrap my arms around her tightly, breathe in the scent of her hair, and let sleep pull me under.
Blinking my eyes open the next morning, I find myself alone.
I figure she must be in her studio until I catch the scent of bacon in the air. Climbing from the bed, I slip on a pair of clean boxers and pad out to the kitchen on silent feet, pausing to take in the sight of Skittle dancing around in nothing but my shirt, singing into a spatula.
“Morning,” I call, but she doesn’t answer. It isn't until I'm right behind her that I realize she has earbuds in, so I sit at the island and take in the show before she spots me and squeals.
“Holy shit, Asher, you scared me,” she yells, pulling the earbuds out of her ears.
“I was just enjoying the show,” I tell her with a grin.
“Shithead, be nice, or I won’t let you eat.”
I grin salaciously, making her roll her eyes, but I don't miss the twitch of her lips.
“I meant the bacon. Lord, I married a sex fiend,” she mutters under her breath before turning away to grab the plates. I move around the counter and press up against her back, lifting the plates down from the cupboard above her head.
She hisses a little at the contact, making me step back and spin her once I've placed the plates on the counter.
“What's wrong?” I ask her, worried.
She glares at me before sighing. “My ass hurts.”
I chuckle.
She slaps my chest. “See, this is why I didn't want to say anything.”
“I'm joking. Let me grab you a cushion to sit on and then when we've finished eating, I'll rub some cream on it for you, okay?” I say, fighting to hide my grin.
She nods but doesn't make eye contact as she squirms, likely remembering the reason her ass hurts in the first place.
“Last night was hot, Skittle. I never really considered role play in the bedroom before, but seeing you come out here in those itty-bitty shorts of yours, I just about came in my pants,” I admit.
How she managed to look both slutty and innocent at the same time is beyond me.
“It was fun. It's not something I've ever felt comfortable trying with someone else, but who better to be adventurous with than my husband?”
“Well, I, for one, am happy to be your guinea pig anytime the need to try something new hits,” I graciously offer. “And I'm glad you trusted me with that, Skittle, it means a lot.”
“You’re welcome,” she tells me with a blush.
She rocked the sex goddess vibe last night, but my words still make her blush. Will this woman ever stop surprising me?
“I want to talk to you about something, okay?" I ask, biting the bullet.
“Sure, let's eat first though, I seem to have worked up an appetite,” she teases.
I move to the sitting area and grab one of the large soft gray cushions from the sofa and place it on the padded seat of the breakfast stool, knowing she might still be uncomfortable, but it won't be as bad with some padding.
She sets a plate in front of both of us before gingerly sitting on the cushion and digging in. She moans around a mouthful of bacon, making my eyes move to her mouth as I remember just how talented it is and what it feels like when she moans around my cock.
When she sees me watching her, she must know where my thoughts have gone as she laughs and shakes her head.
“Oh, no. Down, boy, I need a little longer to recover from last night's escapades before you look at me with those come fuck me eyes,” she retorts.
“Come fuck me eyes?” I muse with a wicked grin.
“See that right there. That look is hard wired to my libido. When you stare at me like that, I want to just rip my panties off and throw them at you,” she admits.
“Well, don't let me stop you.” Hell, this sounds like heaven to me.
“You are out of luck hubby of mine, I'm not wearing any,” she informs me with a wink before shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.
Damn vixen.
Getting back on track, I decide to get this conversation over with. It will be hard for her to run while she’s only wearing my shirt.
“So,” I start as the buzzer for the intercom sounds.
I climb to my feet and walk over to the door, hitting the button to answer.
“Yes?” I question, frustrated with the timing.
“Sir, Mr. Morgan is here to see you. He says it's important,” Sam answers.
I sigh and look at Linda. She shrugs, shoving the last of her bacon into her mouth before standing and walking over to me, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“I'm going to shower and get dressed. Do what you’ve got to do,” she tells me.
I watch as she walks away, enchanted by the sensual sway of her hips before remembering Sam.
“Send him up, Sam, thank you.” This better be good.
“Fuck sake,” I mutter, unlocking the door for Graham before stomping back over to my food.