Asher chances releasing me and grabs hold of the cello and plays a few chords with me. Together we play the instrument. Our bodies mold together as one. If anyone were to walk in on us, they would think we are performing some sort of impressionist dance. A modern movement of lust and love and passion. That is what this song is instilling in us.
Passion.
Our breathing is tense and erratic. His heart is beating against my back, striking it like a ten-pound percussion. Our bodies are entwined so deeply with each other I feel like we are one.
When Asher puts his hand back around my waist he slows his hand control under mine and brings us to a slower tempo. We play this way until our bodies are calmed and we’re aware of how sweaty our palms are.
Our movements sashay and sway together in a dance of lovers and together we bring the song to a close.
When the humming has stopped, Asher leans over, placing the cello back in its stand and rests the bow next to it. I release my hand from his and rest the other on his knee.
I close my eyes and lean my head on his shoulder and breathe out the greatest breath of a lifetime.
“Thank you.”
His broad chest against my back is rising and falling in tantric rhythm to my own heavily beating heart. My own movements are steady, yet as intense as his. That’s why my skin hums with electricity as his hand comes circling around my waist and his palm lands on the inside of my thigh.
“I’ve never felt someone playing before. You ignite with a fervor and rage and ardor and devotion. I am infatuated.”
Warm, heated breaths play on the soft skin of my throat, and I constrict when his warm mouth crosses the nape so gently it feels like a breeze tickling my skin. His tongue darts out and licks the sensitive skin sending shivers down my body and into the very core.
I curve my back into him and let the warmth envelope me. Leaning my neck further to the side, I offer him more of me, asking to be taken.
And he does. French kisses dance up and down my neck, making my body feel alive—and I didn’t even know I was dead.
“Emma.” My name off his lips is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I know he’s asking if I’m okay with where his hand is. Asher is a man who takes what he wants. And my heart beats a thousand strums for the fact he wants to know if I’m okay with his intentions.
I don’t know what I’m okay with. I know I’m scared. I know I’m turned on. I know I don’t want to cry and I know I want to feel alive.
So in quite the most impulsive moment of my life, I place my hand over Asher’s hand and move it further up my leg so it’s resting under the white shorts.
As his palm presses deeper into my thigh, his fingers caress the flesh and make their way up and down, playing me like chords of an instrument.
And I so want to be played.
I want to be the music.
I turn my head toward him and connect with golden eyes, powerful and full of passion. I take his mouth into mine and kiss him so intensely I think I might combust.
Two hands are now on my thighs, working them up and down until I am in a frenzy. My breasts push through my bra and my skin feels as hot and brightly colored as the tank top they’re trying to be free of.
I let out a gasp when one of Asher’s very delicate fingers slip further inside my shorts and brushes along the outside of my thong.
“You are so sensitive,” he says, his mouth in a smile I can feel against my skin.
I am throbbing and need to be touched. Even in this lustful haze I can understand how insane it is that I want him so much. I am not an overtly sexual person. Parker and I were in a loving relationship, but I never craved him. Not like this. This is primal.
At this moment I can only think of how alive I feel.
In this room.
With this man.
Asher’s fingers work me over my panties, drawing dangerous circles sending me into a crescendo of pleasure. He kisses my shoulder and continues to rub me. When my body is on the brink of an orgasm I swing my head back around and kiss him, feeling his tongue in my mouth as my body falls apart, collapsing into him with a peak so intense I could stop breathing.
My body tingles, reveling in the best sexual experience of my life and his fingers didn’t even touch my skin. If he can do this to me with our clothes on, I can’t imagine what can be done with them off.
I don’t know Asher very well, but I want to get to know him further. He is so easy to talk to. He doesn’t push me like everyone else, yet he makes me want to tell him things.
