She tugged his shirt off him before scrambling with the fly of his jeans, their kisses deep and slow, their hands roving and their names whispered pleas on the other’s lips. Soon enough, she sat astride him, pajama shorts and panties lost somewhere in the room and his cock pulled from the confines of his open fly.
No matter how many times they’d done this, the moment before he sank inside never got old. Breaths ragged, their eyes locked as he held the base of his cock steady for her. “Climb on up, wifey, and ride me to sleep.”
“Don’t boss me around,” she said, but still, she lifted up, notched him at her entrance, and took him inside her in one slow, steady plunge.
He groaned as Nat’s eyes fluttered closed, her face tipped toward the ceiling, her neck arched back, fingers digging into his chest. Christ, she was beautiful. The flickering light of the TV cast shadows over her skin, the turquoise ends of her hair just brushing across her shoulders, her breasts jutting out toward him.
Fuck, when was this going to get old? When would he tire of being inside her? Of feeling her wrapped around him, her mouth breathing him in? He could live a thousand lives and none of them would ever compare to this one now, with her.
Sliding his fingers into her hair, he tugged her face down to his as she rode him in slow, deep strokes. “You love takin’ me deep, don’t you, baby? Love workin’ that pussy over me and drivin’ me out of my damn mind.”
She bit her lip, her gaze heavy-lidded. “Thought that was the whole plan.”
He’d lost count of how many times they’d done this. Gotten absorbed in each other’s bodies. He’d had her fast and hard. Deep and rough. Slow and exploratory. He’d had her every way, in every position he could think of—several, more than once.
He now knew her in ways he’d never imagined he would. He knew the roll of her hips. What it meant when she sped up or slowed down. Knew the feel of her fingers locked with his. Knew, too, the softness of every inch of her body under his seeking hands. But the favorite of them all was that he now knew the sound of his name on her lips as she came.
He gripped her ankles as she widened her thighs, sinking down on him to the root. She rocked her clit against the base of his cock, her movements speeding up with every labored breath.
“If you think this is gonna get my mind clear for the night, you’re wrong. ’Cause every time I’m inside you, it’s all I can think about for hours.Days.” He kissed a path up her neck, scraping his teeth along the underside of her jaw. “You consume me. Youownme. And I better own you too when I’m inside you. When I’m makin’ you come, even if you’re the one givin’ me a ride.”
“Ash…”
“Fuck, Nat.” With a groan, he spilled himself inside her as she shuddered around him, her thighs clamping tight to the outsides of his legs as she panted through her release.
He’d never considered himself a particularly insatiable man. Sure, he enjoyed sex, but he didn’t let it control his life. But now, not an hour went by when he didn’t think about this. About the feel of her breasts against his chest. Her moans on his lips. Her pussy rippling around him as she came undone on his cock.
Not an hour went by, either, when he wasn’t reminded that she wasn’t here to stay. Reminded of just how quickly this would all be gone.
* * *
Nat had been right aboutone thing—they’d barely had time to catch their breath and put their clothes back on before Owen’s cries filtered out from his room. Asher had gripped her face, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss on her lips before telling her he had it and she should get some sleep.
As if she were going to be able to do that. All day, she’d been able to tell something was off with him. Initially, she’d assumed it was June’s therapy session, though from what he’d told her, that had gone well. And then there had been Wanda in the Square. Most Havenbrook residents had been welcoming and kind, but there were still those outliers who just couldn’t seem to help themselves.
And then on top of that, Cole had called to prep Asher for the hearing in a few days. Unlike the last one, she intended to be there this time. Her momma had practically ordered Nat that she’d be taking the kids that day so she could attend, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
Owen’s cries had finally quieted, and she crept down the hallway toward his open bedroom door. She wrapped her fingers around the doorframe and peeked around the corner. Asher sat in the rocking chair next to Owen’s crib. The baby was resting against his chest, his eyes shut as he sucked hard on a pacifier. Even in the minimal light of the bedroom, she could tell his cheeks were flushed.
They’d come upon this instance once prior—a couple weeks ago. Owen had had a fever—a low-grade one, but it might as well have been life-and-death for how they’d responded. For the care and concern Asher had shown. The same he was showing now.
For once, she didn’t want her camera to capture this. Wasn’t distracted by which settings she’d use or how she’d compose the shot. Instead, she didn’t want to look away, even for just a second. She was too enamored of the scene. How Owen looked, snuggling up against Asher’s chest. How Asher cradled him, his cheek resting against the top of his nephew’s head, his face downcast. The sound of his voice as he sang a lullaby, the soft melody soothing the baby to sleep as the two rocked.
Her heart clenched even while anger overcame her. The fact that this man—this perfect man who’d done nothing but what he thought was right for these kids—might have them taken away. All because of someone with more power and more money than he had.
That was something she’d dealt with her whole life. Her daddy had done nothing but flaunt his power and his status. Held it over her head and the heads of her sisters the entirety of their childhood. For better or worse, it had shaped every ounce of who they’d become. She was certain he hadn’t intended for Nat to say fuck it and run away, bucking all expectations as she fled.
Funny thing was, in the end, she hadn’t been able to run away from it because she’d ended up right back where she’d started. Tangled up with an influential family willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. Except this time, unlike when her daddy used to sweep any and all of her transgressions under the rug while hanging her friends out to dry, she was powerless.
It wasn’t long after she’d tiptoed her way back to their bedroom and slipped under the covers before Asher walked in, his face lined with exhaustion or worry or both.
“He finally asleep?” Nat asked as Asher shed his clothes before crawling in next to her.
“Yeah. Hopefully it sticks this time.” He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close, and she hummed out a contented sigh. With his lips pressed to her forehead, he said, “Enjoy the private concert, did you?”
She grinned against his chest. “Just practicing my stalkin’. How do you think I’m doin’?”
“I’m tellin’ you, you gotta do something about the cement blocks, wifey.”
