He unbuttoned my jeans, fingers slipping beneath denim to skim my already soaked panties. “With how wet you are, I shouldn’t make you wait.”
I lifted my hips; he peeled off my jeans and underwear. Cool air from the open French doors brushed my skin, making me shiver. He kissed me briefly, rose, and closed them.
“It’s raining,” he said when he returned. “Can’t complain. Perfect excuse to stay in bed.” He leaned down, and I cupped him through his pants; his hardness pressed into my palm. He exhaled, then covered my hand with his. “Wait, mi niña.”
“Okay.” I grazed his stomach with my nails. “But I want to see you.”
He shrugged out of the rest of his clothes. In the car it had been too dark to see him properly; in daylight he looked even more beautiful—big, too.
“It’ll fit,” Asher murmured, as if reading my mind. “I’ll make sure you’re ready first.”
He lay over me, hooked an arm around my waist, and rolled us.
“Move up a bit,” he said, voice soft and sure. He lifted my top and pulled it over my head, exposing the bra he’d liked in the pictures.
“The photo didn’t do it justice,” he breathed. He wrapped his lips around my breast, sucking gently. My clit pulsed with every pull; when he unclasped my bra and took my bare nipple into his mouth, a relieved moan slipped out. He sat up with me still straddling him, my sex rubbing against his length.
“We’ll do it like this later,” he said. “Once you’re used to me.”
I tightened my legs around him and kissed him. He opened for me with a low moan, his tongue meeting mine. Rain battered the windows; the soft drum of the storm mixed with our sounds. Asher mapped my curves with his hands, then slid his fingers down to my clit and began to rub me while his mouth still ravished mine. His cock throbbed beneath me.
When his touches grew more insistent, I lifted myself, and he slipped a finger inside—then another. I squeezed my eyes shut, fisted his hair, my lips brushing his.
“You’re soaked,” he whispered, working his fingers in a steady rhythm. “I want you to come like this first.”
His mouth returned to my breast, trapping my nipple between his lips. Pressure built low and hot. I rocked my hips against his hand, seekingrelief. He spread my wetness over my clit with his thumb and picked up the pace.
“Ash.” I gasped, pleasure so close I could taste it. He moved to my other breast, watching me like he wanted to memorize how I unraveled.
Ripples of release rolled through me. I tightened around his fingers as an orgasm ripped me open.
He withdrew slowly and laid me back, brown eyes soft as he cradled my face. “I want to be inside you.”
I nodded and ran my hand over the muscles of his back. Asher leaned down, grabbed a condom from his pants on the floor, and slid it on. I took his hand and pulled him toward me; he settled between his forearms so his weight didn’t crush me.
“Stop me if it’s too uncomfortable, okay?” he said.
His concern made me smile. “Don’t worry. It won’t be.”
“I hope so.” He nuzzled my cheek, kissed below my ear, and eased my legs apart. The tip of him nudged my entrance and I froze, fingers digging into his back.
“You’re precious to me,” he murmured. “Perfect.”
He kissed me and pushed in just a hair. Dull pressure swelled; I brushed the tip of his tongue with mine to steady myself. He paused.
“Move, peque,” I urged, lifting my hips. Asher eased forward, and pain bit sharp, then softened.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my neck, then kissed and sucked the skin gently. “I’m in. How does it feel?”
The ache melted into fullness. “I love it,” I said. “You can move.”
He shook his head, fingers tangling in my hair spread on the pillow. “Not yet. I want you to come with me.”
He stroked the still-sensitive nub, kissed my breasts until need flared, and I moved my hips with him lodged inside.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Asher said. His body trembled under my hands. I tightened my thighs around his hips and rocked slowly. He groaned into my neck, burying his face in the crook. “You feel so fucking good.”
“So do you.”
