“Forget the cake,” he murmured. “This is my new favorite.”
His tongue slid over me, holding my thighs apart. I buried my fingers in his hair, biting down on a moan when he found my clit and nudgedsoftly. He was unhurried, savoring me—but he was still dressed, and it was his birthday. I wanted something for him too.
I tangled my fingers in the short hair at his nape. “I want you naked, Ash.”
He bit my inner thigh. “And I want you to come—like this first, then with me inside you.”
I tugged at the thin cotton of his shirt. “I just want to feel you.”
He yanked it over his head and let it fall to the rug. I went straight for the button of his jeans. He was already hard. Ready. The memory of him in my mouth surged as I freed him from his underwear.
He pulsed in my hand as I closed my fist around him, running my thumb over the swollen tip.
He shuddered. “Fuck, Kaia.”
“Come here,” I whispered.
My breath hitched when he leaned in, resting a knee on the bed, his face an inch from mine. I traced the shape of his lips with my fingertips until he caught them between his teeth and sucked, eyes dark and fixed on me.
Everything happened at once—his mouth on my neck, his fingers sliding inside me, slow and deliberate.
“You’re drenched.” He tugged my earlobe with his teeth, fingers pumping deeper, finding the spot that made me wetter with every thrust.
I was teetering on the edge, one brush of his thumb away from release.
He pushed the racing jacket off my shoulders and down my arms, then slipped his fingers free and lifted me effortlessly.
Setting me on the desk, he said, voice rough with impatience, “Lean back. Open your legs.”
I obeyed, every movement tracked by his rapt gaze. Then he stepped back, reaching for the nightstand. “Condom,” he muttered, as though apologizing for pausing.
“Don’t.”
Asher froze. “Are you sure?”
“I went on birth control. The cramps were too bad. And I know you haven’t been with anyone.”
He was in front of me in a second, hair mussed, eyes burning. I gripped the desk, spreading wider, offering myself.
“Fuck,” he breathed, burying his hands in my hair before crushing his mouth to mine.
The tip of his cock brushed my entrance, but he lingered, savoring me as our tongues tangled. A heady rush overtook me. I wrapped my hand around him, guiding him inside.
Panting, he slid in, inch by inch. Deep. Perfect. His palms cradled my face as his breath mingled with mine.
“Need a moment,” he whispered. “Feels too good.”
I clenched around him, every pulse amplified with nothing between us. He kissed the skin below my ear, pressing his forehead to mine as he began to move.
Slow thrusts. A glide that stole my breath. My fingers dug into his shoulders, then he pulled out completely.
“Look down,” he rasped. “Look at us.”
He pushed all the way in. I gasped, and a strained chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Perfect. You’re perfect for me.”
The tingle at the base of my spine flared. He drove into me harder, faster, rougher. I wanted more—more of his mouth, more of his skin, more of the dangerous fire that burned so sweet I leaned into it willingly. His hands gripped my ass, rough and impatient, pulling me closer with every thrust.
I wrapped my legs around his hips and found my clit with my fingers. He made me so needy. So desperate.
