I rub my thumb around the tip, and Asher’s lips part as he lets out a breath. Just that small touch has earned a reaction, and it makes me want to do more.
My fingers slide down the smooth, hard length of him until they reach the base. Then slowly, I glide them back up, exploring and watching as his expression changes with every movement.
“Fuck,” he says.
I am hardly doing anything, but I am getting big reactions from him. I don’t know why. I’m sure he’s done this before with other women with far more experience. Maybe that’s why it’s so erotic?
“Put your hand around it,” he rasps. “Tightly.”
I wrap my hand around his girth. I can almost feel the pulsing of his heartbeat.
“Now glide,” he says, “up and down. Fuck…yes…just like that.”
I watch his body language change as I stroke his cock in my hand, feeling every muscle in his body tense and intense as he surrenders to it.
“Faster,” he tells me; his voice is low and primal.
I glide my hand up and over the head then back down; harder and faster, making him groan. Then, his body tenses, then releases, and he moans. He presses his forehead against mine as the orgasm rolls through him until he finally grows still.
“Did I…was it good?” I ask, maybe too quickly. I sound like…such a virgin.
Ash rolls on his back and grins. “Yeah, you could say that,” he says before throwing the blankets off and heading into the bathroom.
Even after the door closes, my heart is still pounding.
I just did that.
He said it was good!
Fuck, it was hot.
Speaking of hot, there’s a little of him on my fingers. My mind goes to the book I am reading, and I bite my lip.What would the main character do?
I bring my fingers up to my lips and slowly lick them.
Then I smile.
Whatever base this is…it’s fun.
Chapter 15
Asher
I’m not used to being woken up by the sun. I am usually up long before that, getting a run in or maybe a swim. So when the warmth of the sheets is coming from sunlight and not another body in bed with me, my eyes flutter open and I sit up.
What time is it?
I look down at the analogue clock on the nightstand. 10:00 AM. Jesus. I slept hard. Then I remember why. Last night, something happened that I wasn’t expecting, and it lulled me into a dreamless slumber. Damn, was it good.
I get out of bed, feeling warm, rested, and happy. I am wondering where Harper is. When I woke up, I was alone in the bed. I’m a little worried that she doesn’t feel as good about last night as I do. Does she have regrets? Even though the moment was very much led by her.
I make my way to the kitchen and find it empty, though there is a note on the fridge.
I made fruit salad. There’s also a breakfast quiche on the stove. I’m at the beach. Enjoy.
I rake a hand through my hair and examine the Mediterranean inspired, crustless quiche that is still warm fromthe oven, missing one slice. Damn. How fucking hard did I sleep?
Apparently, as hard as I got off, I think.
