We reached the door and Asher paused, curving his hand around my neck and drawing me close. His lips found mine in an urgent kiss. “Thank you,” he breathed. “For being here tonight.”
“I’m glad I came. Your dad might be a complete ass, but your mom is sweet.”
He winced.
“Hey,” I said. “Just because she makes some decisions you don’t understand or agree with, doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
“For as much as I want to confess all my deepest darkest secrets to you, I want to do this much more.” Asher kissed me again, pushing his tongue deep into my mouth, his body caging me against the door. I felt him hard at my stomach.
“Merry Christmas, Mya,” he whispered.
“Merry Christmas.” I pulled back to look at him. The moonlight reflected off his profile, making him seem ethereal. An angel caught somewhere between the light and the darkness.
Asher grinned, before pulling me inside and pushing me against the cladded wall. “I had this all planned out,” he said. “There are candles and a blanket upstairs, but I’m not sure I can wait. I need you, Mya. I need you so fucking much it hurts.”
I ran my finger across his brow, studying his face. Asher Bennet was gorgeous. From his piercing blue eyes to his playful smile and mussed up blond hair. On the face of it, he was perfect. But it wasn’t his perfect eyes or perfect smile or perfect teeth that drew me in, it was his imperfections. His maddening persistence. The darkness that sometimes shrouded his expression. The way he cared too much.
On paper we were complete opposites but when you stripped away our exteriors, you were left with two people betrayed by the people they were supposed to be able to trust. Two people who were completely wrong for one another.
But as I was quickly learning, sometimes wrong felt perfectly right.
Chapter Eighteen
Asher
I inched back from Mya, slowly unbuttoning my shirt. Her eyes tracked my movements, heavy-lidded with lust. We’d danced around one another all night. It had been the sweetest kind of torture, having her right there in plain sight but being unable to touch her the way I wanted.
The way I needed.
“See something you like, Hernandez?” I asked smugly, as I shuck out of my navy dress shirt. The material dropped to the floor as I began snapping my belt and unbuttoning my slacks. Mya swallowed, her hand gliding up the side of her neck. She was so fucking sexy.
“Come here.” I crooked my finger at her and Mya came willingly, falling into my arms. Her hands slid up my bare chest, her touch like kryptonite; making my heart race and my knees weak.
“Jesus,” I breathed, sucking in a harsh breath as she gently rolled one of my nipples between her fingers.
“You have too many clothes on.” My hand drifted up her spine, locating the delicate zipper hidden beneath the seam of her dress. It slid down with ease, and Mya let the silky material fall down her arms, revealing a lacy black bra.
“See something by you like, Hotshot?” Mya smirked, pushing the dress over her hips and down her body until she was standing before me in nothing but her underwear.
“I think I just died and went to heaven.” I didn’t know where to look first. The swell of her perfect tits, the curve of her waist and flare of her hips. Her perfect ass.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, staring up at me with anticipation.
“Kiss you?” I said, hooking an arm around her waist and erasing the space between us. Until we were skin on skin, racing heart against racing heart.
“I’m going to kiss every single inch of you, Mya. And when I’m done, I’m going to start all over again.”
She shivered at my words, inhaling a shaky breath as I swept my fingers across her collarbone.
“Tell me what you want.” I whispered against the corner of her mouth.
“You, Ash... I just want you.” Mya wriggled closer, grazing my rock-hard dick. We both groaned. I dropped my hands to my jeans ready to kick them off, but Mya beat me to it. Her greedy hands dipping inside, stroking me through my boxer briefs.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
I don’t know how it happened, but Mya took control. Backing me up against the far wall, she ran one of her hands up and down my abs, dipping her head to nip and suck my neck while her hand worked me through the thin material.
“Mya, wait...” But before I could stop her, she dropped to her knees, yanked down my jeans and boxers and sucked me into her mouth. “Holy fuck.” Sensation exploded up my spine as she ran her tongue up and down my length, pumping me with her hand. Slow torturous strokes that damn near blew my mind.
God, I never wanted her to stop but this wasn’t supposed to be about me. It was supposed to be about her. About me showing her how I felt.
“Mya, babe, stop.” I wound my hand into her curls and tugged gently. She looked up at me, eyes glazed with desire.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, something’s wrong.” I pulled her to her feet, spinning us so her back was pressed against the wall. “This is about you, not me.” My hand glided down her flat stomach, dipping inside her lacy panties. “I want to watch you come.” Without warning I pushed a finger inside her.
Mya gasped, her eyes fluttering closed as her body arched into my touch.
“Eyes open, Mya.”
She pinned me with a heated stare as I worked her with my fingers. No more words passed between us, just the sounds of her quiet moans and my labored breaths. It was intense. We both felt it. The shift between us. The tether binding us together.
“Asher,” it was a shuddering breath but she might as well have reached into my chest and ripped out my heart.
It was hers now.
Whether she wanted it or not.
I didn’t give Mya chance to catch her breath. Sliding my hands under her legs, I scooped her up and carried her over to the old boat. It was covered in a dust sheet that crinkled and crunched as I laid her out before me.
“Shit,” I rasped, “Condom.”
“No,” she shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean. I need to feel you, all of you.”
Thank fuck for small mercies.
Pushing my boxer briefs off, I stroked myself a couple of times before leaning over her and covering her body with mine. Mya hitched her legs around my hips, steadying herself with a hand on my shoulder, as I teased her with the tip of my dick, letting it glide through her wetness.
“More,” she begged, her voice thick with need.
Slowly, inch by inch, I pressed into her. “Christ, Mya, you feel...” The words lodged in my throat as I went deeper, grinding against her in a way that had us both moaning in pleasure.
Pressing my hands flat against the sheet, I stared down at her. I watched as her eyes rolled back every time I ground into her; watched the way her tits jiggled behind their lacy confines. “You are so fucking perfect,” I rasped, thrusting harder, needing more. Needing to bury myself as deep as I could possibly get inside her.
But it wasn’t enough. I needed to consume her. To imprint myself on her the way she’d already imprinted herself on me.
I needed to mark her.
To make her mine in every sense of the word.