With a growl, he crashed his lips to hers, his tongue delving into her mouth while he fumbled with the excess material of her dress. Pulling away on a groan, he said, “How many layers is this fucking thing?”
She breathed out a laugh and lent a hand, gathering up the silk in her arms until her lower half was exposed, bare save for a pair of lace panties. “How about I get this out of the way, and you worry about gettin’ your pants down?”
“I have a better idea,” he said before dropping to his knees, slipping her panties to the side, and swiping his tongue through her slit.
“Oh God,” Nat breathed, widening her stance as he flicked her clit, biting her lip to stifle a moan before remembering there was no need. Not when the music downstairs drowned out the two of them. The thought that someone could stumble on them at any time—that Will and Finn were no doubt planning to use this very space for this very thing at some point tonight—only worked her up that much faster.
When Asher slipped two fingers inside her and curled them to catch on that spot that made her see stars, she was lost, thrown off the cliff headfirst into the abyss as waves of pleasure crashed over her. With one hand holding up her dress and the other gripping his hair, she rode out her orgasm against his mouth. She hadn’t even managed to catch her breath before he stood, gripped her under the ass, and lifted her up.
“That’s one,” he said against her lips. He braced her between himself and the wall, one hand clutching her ass as he dragged his cock through her slit with the other. “How about you give me this next one while I think about you claimin’ me out there in front of everyone?”
Before she could respond, he thrust deep, stealing her breath along with her words.
He groaned loud and low, the deep resonance sounding like it was pulled straight from his soul. “Fillin’ you up is never gonna get old. Tell me what’s better than this.”
“Paris in the spring?” she panted, her eyes rolling back as he thrust deep.
“Nope.”
“Swimmin’ with dolphins?”
“Wrong again.”
“Seein’ the Northern Lights?”
Asher rested his forehead against her shoulder, his breath sweeping across her chest as she held him tight to her, rolling his head side to side. “Nothing. Nothing is better than this.”
His hips worked at a frenzied pace, his cock sinking deep, somehow knowing she wanted it fast and hard.
“I don’t know…I think Corinne and Macy were angling for a threesome. That might’ve been better.”
“You think I’d want anyone else but you? Any other pussy but this one that fits my cock like it was made for me?” He thrust as deep as he could, grinding the base of his erection against her clit, whether in punishment for suggesting such a thing or purely for the pleasure, she didn’t know. “There could’ve been a whole harem lined up, and I wouldn’t have been tempted. It sure as fuck wouldn’t have compared to this.”
“That’s an awfully tall order.”
“Yeah, well, I’m your husband, so that means I get to make that call.”
A roller coaster set up camp in her stomach, flipping her insides and turning them this way and that. She didn’t want to think about why she loved the thought of him wearing her ring…why she loved him having the title of her husband…why she loved when he called her his wife. Needing to distract herself from that, she reached between them, fingering her clit as he continued driving deep.
He groaned. “Lift that dress out of the way so I can see that pussy you’re claimin’ me with.”
“Fuck, Asher,” she breathed, her body tightening more with each passing second.
“If you’re worried about two women whose names I’ve already forgotten, maybe you need a reminder of who I’m fucking right now. Who’s gonna be in my bed tonight. Who’s wearin’ my ring. Mywife.”
The rough, possessive way he said the words shot straight through her, and she groaned, moving her fingers faster against her clit, her breath speeding up.
“Though God knows I’d be jealous as fuck if I found two guys hoverin’ around you, just hopin’ for a chance to feel what I’m feelin’ right now.”
She bit her lip, her body tightening at his words and his thrusts. At the possessive way he gripped her ass, holding her up as he drove into her. “I’m not the musician who’s every woman’s wet dream.”
“No, you’re just every man’s.”
Her breaths sped up, eyes fluttering. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Am I your wet dream, Ash?”
