“I woke up and you were gone,” he said gruffly from above her. “I didn’t like it.”
“I don’t think I like it either. Let’s go back,” she murmured. She glanced up as she went back to finessing his nipple with her tongue. His hand went to the back of her head, holding her as she licked the hardening disc of flesh. He watched her, his stare hot enough to melt through metal. She saw herself as if from his eyes, experienced her red, wet tongue. She felt his heavy cock bump against her belly. He lifted her against him, his mouth slanted in arousal, and walked toward the bright sunlight. He lowered her down onto the couch.
“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom. I want you right now,” he said.
“We seem to be saying that a lot to each other,” she replied, smiling.
She knew exactly what he meant. The hunger—the need—had slammed into her like a locomotive upon seeing him walk into the room. Even her mother’s voice in her ear hadn’t dampened it. She lay back and he came down over her. Their mouths fused and clung in a liquid, heated kiss. The sun warmed his bare back. It felt so good against her wandering, massaging fingertips.
It was as if they were encapsulated in some kind of sunlit cocoon. Only they existed, their seeking lips and exploring tongues, the pressure and heat of each other’s bodies. He slid his T-shirt up over her chest, baring her and caressing her with his large hand. She moaned, feeling herself soften for him, growing wetter. Hotter. Their bodies pressed tight. She loved the feel of him against her skin. She adored how heavy his cock felt behind the thin layer of his pajama bottoms. He was so big and blatant. So amazingly male.
Her hand slid between their pressing, grinding bodies. He felt what she was doing and braced himself on his arms, lifting slightly off her. She cupped his full testicles in her palm and squeezed gently. He groaned into her mouth and broke their kiss. He came up on his knees slightly, still crouching over her, giving her free rein. She glided her hand up the thick, long shaft, watching his handsome face tighten in pleasure.
“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?” he rasped.
She saw the answer in the feral glint in his eyes. She opened her thighs, feeling the air tickle at her wet sex.
Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pajamas. She grasped his beautiful cock tighter, gritting her teeth in arousal at the sensation of the soft skin gloving the long, rigid shaft. She pushed his pajama bottoms down over his ass. Gripping his cock with both hands, she began to pump him. She met his stare as her arms moved up and down.
“Tell me. What do you want to do?”
His nostrils flared slightly. A snarl shaped his mouth. “Something I shouldn’t.”
Excitement rippled through her at his words. Wincing in pleasure, he glanced down between their bodies to where she jacked his cock. “God bless it, you’re good at that.”
“I should be. You taught me how to do it.”
He gave her a sharp glance. She pumped him faster with both hands.
“Laila—”
“Tell me what you want to do,” she entreated. She could feel her pulse throbbing at her throat. He still stared down between their bodies, but this time, she knew he wasn’t looking at her jacking his cock. She felt his stare on her sex and spread thighs. She pumped him more determinedly.
“Jesus,” he groaned. “I’ll go get a condom.”
But she wouldn’t let up on him. A fever had seized her body. Her brain.
“Asher.” He met her stare. “Tell me. Say it.”
“You know what I want,” he grated out between white, bared teeth. She sensed his anger in that moment, his cutting frustration. It sent a perverse thrill through her. “You know I want to dip my cock into this.” He moved abruptly, rearing back on his bent knees. He grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her lower body onto his thighs. He slid a long finger into her sex. She gasped. His hand circled on her outer sex, applying pressure to her clit.
“So damn creamy,” he muttered. “So warm and tight.” He drew his finger out of her and plunged it deep again. He pushed another finger between her labia and applied direct pressure on her clit. She whimpered and twisted her hips against the divine friction.
He grasped a hip with one hand and held her in place as he thrust his finger in and out of her. “Do you hear that? Do you hear how wet you are? I could die in this pussy,” he grated out darkly. He was
right. She was soaking wet. She could hear him moving in her flesh. “You know I fantasize about it. About fucking you raw. You know it, but you wanted me to say it. Didn’t you?” She cried out in unbearable excitement as he stroked her harder and her clit sizzled beneath his rubbing forefinger. His dirty talk was driving her crazy. So was the sensation of his thick erection pulsing next to her bare ass.
“No barriers between us. Just my cock sinking into your wet little pussy and fucking you until I don’t know where you start and I end . . . feeling you squeeze the living daylights out of me while you come—”
“Oh God.” She lifted her head off the pillows, her face tight. She was mindless with pleasure, desperate with need. Not fully aware of what she was doing, she instinctively began to bob her ass up and down, popping his erection with her ass. His growl would have been intimidating if she weren’t so turned on by it. Everything had grown hot and sticky and delicious. She was about to go off like a lit firecracker.
“Do it,” she whispered fervently. She splayed her legs open even further and lifted her pelvis from his lap in a flagrant invitation. She popped her bottom against his cock again, once, then twice. “Put your cock in me,” she begged.
He abruptly grasped her hips with both hands, holding her ass down on his cock. She cried out at the loss of his fingers at her sex. She’d been on the verge of coming.
“Stop it, Laila.”
His hard, tense voice barely breached her trance of lust.