“I told you,” he murmured, trailing his fingertips along the inside of her thigh, “I’m not here for me.”
No one had ever said that and meant it, and certainly not without strings attached, not without guilt or games. But Ashar, he didn’t feel like he was bluffing. He was baring something older than honesty.
Her gaze dropped.
He was thick, hard, and darkly veined, the head flushed and slick, already leaking with restraint he hadn’t yet broken. He looked like a possibility she didn’t dare believe. Her mouth parted. Her body responded instantly, that slow ache building again, begging without words.
“I want to make you feel everything,” Ashar said. “Every inch. Every breath. Until you forget what it was like before I touched you.”
Blair barely managed a nod.
He moved over her slowly, skin brushing skin, heat pressed to heat. And when he kissed her, this time soft, deep, filled with all the chaos he hadn’t yet unleashed, she felt it like a fuse being lit.
He lined up with her entrance, not yet pushing in. Simply resting there. Letting her feel it. The thick, heavy promise of what was coming.
Blair’s hips tilted instinctively, her bodyalready arching toward him like prayer, like need. Her skin prickled as his cock teased her entrance, her body screaming yes before her lips could remember how to speak it.
“Are you ready?” he asked, mouth at her ear.
She gasped. “Yes. Please,”
The word fractured as he pushed forward, not all at once.
Slow.
Stretching her, filling her, claiming every inch of her inch by inch until her breath caught and her nails raked down his back. He was big, too much, and somehow perfectly right at the same time. She whimpered, hips tilting, legs wrapping around him like her body had already decided it would never let him go.
Ashar groaned, deep in his chest, a sound like hunger made flesh. “Fuck, Blair. You feel perfect.”
He began to move.
A slow, devastating grind that made her arch and cling and gasp. Every thrust dragged across a spot inside her that made her eyes roll back, that pulled another helpless moan from her throat.
No more floating, she was grounded now, every nerve tethered to him. Anchored to this moment, to his body, to the rhythm that took her apart and remade her with every stroke.
It wasn’t frantic. Not yet, it was deep and deliberate.
He kissed her as he moved, mouths crashing and breaking and fusing together again between panting breaths. His hands were everywhere, gripping her hips, threading through her hair, cupping her jaw like she was something precious, even as he drove into her like he owned her pleasure.
And fuck, perhaps he did. Because she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
She could only feel.
Each thrust built heat tighter and tighter in her core, a pressure that curled her toes and made her cry out. He shifted her legs higher, hips angling, and the new position made her scream.
“Right there,” she begged. “Ashar, right there, don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He gave it to her; he gave it all to her.
He pounded her harder now, still controlled, but feral at the edges. His breath came hot and ragged against her ear, hips slamming into hers, cock hitting that spot with ruthless precision.
And when she shattered again, raw and gasping and writhing beneath him, he fucked her through it. Didn’t let her come down. That drove her higher again.
He came moments later with a growl, hips jerking, body tensing as he spilled inside her, teeth gritted against her neck. She felt it, every pulse, every twitch, every inch of him locked deep inside her as he lost control.
They collapsed together. Sweaty, shaking, silent except for the ragged sound of shared breath. Blair’s body pulsed, slow and sated.
Ashar kissed her shoulder, gently now.
