She pauses for a second, her eyes tracing my features before she speaks again, just as quietly.
“Like you want to devour me and pray to me at the same time.”
The sound of my quiet chuckle is almost a thunderclap after her near silent words, and I shake my head.
“Ellie, you have no idea how fucking true those words are. The ways I would worship you, this gorgeous body of yours.” My hand on her waist slips around to squeeze a handful of her ass, which brings her hips forward to press into mine, and I know she feels what’s waiting for her there by the way her eyes flare.
Leaning forward, I press my mouth against the shell of her ear and whisper words that make chills erupt across her entire frame. “When you let me, I’m going to find all the ways to introduce you to every single god humans have ever worshiped, and maybe some new ones, too. All you have to do is say yes, Ellie. I’ll do the rest.”
She’s frozen in place, one hand pressed against her lips, the other against that spot on her neck—all pink from my mouth—her eyes hazy and unfocused, following my own. I trail my gaze down her form, soaking in every detail of how good she looks from responding to my touch, my words, and I let her ponder my offer. All I can do now is pray she wants to be with me more than she’s afraid of the stigma of being with me.
TWENTY-SIX
ELLIE
Yes. Yes.Yes.
The word echoes through my mind. Why isn’t it echoing through the room?
“Ellie,” he whispers against my jaw, his voice breaking on my name.
He runs his nose along the side of my neck, nuzzling me while I struggle to breathe normally. My hair falls in a curtain around his head, and he inhales its scent sharply.
I’m fighting a losing battle and I know it. I’m fully out of excuses and reasons why it might not be a good idea. Overcome with all the reasons it might be the best one I’ve ever had.
If the car that kept me going on that path away from this moment was running on excuses, the light’s been on formiles, the tank now on empty; the car’s stalled on the side of the road. I’m not calling roadside assistance. Let me fucking stay here forever, as long as it’s withhim.
I’m struggling to find the right words, the sheer want overtaking all of my senses for what has to be the second time in my life, and all in a span of twenty-four hours. His lips work their way back up my neck and find the spot behind my ear that turns my entire insides to jello.
I’ve always been the one to do the right thing, make the responsible choice, and where has it gotten me? To a life that was, honestly, rather lonely and unfulfilling, that’s where.
What would happen if I said yes to this?
To what I haven’t been able to keep my mind from wandering to for weeks, no matter how I tried?
To him?
With one hand braced on my spine to hold me upright against him, his other hand starts softly tracing lines up and down my side, through my clothes, all the way down the bare skin of my thigh before starting its ascent up the inside of my thigh, so slow and soft, I try to fight a shiver and fail. The anticipation I feel with this man is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. He drives me crazy with his heated looks, his words, his dirty texts. I know that his hands, his tongue, the rest of him, will be my new favorite kind of insanity.
“What’s it gonna be? Are you going to let me make you come tonight? For real?” Asher whispers the words into the centimeters that divide us, and I nearly faint at the restraint in them. The desire.
I close my eyes and whimper softly before nodding. I seem to have forgotten how to speak, but I want this so fucking much, and I need him to know that with no uncertainty. “Yes,” I tell him.
He sucks in a breath audibly and I feel him quiver beneath me. “God. Fuck, yes,” he says thickly against my throat before kissing me deeply, a growl escaping his chest.
The hand on my back slides around my waist and tightens its hold there while the one on my thigh slides higher, spreading my legs for him as I straddle his waist, kneeling to hover over him on the couch.
I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss and melting into him, pressing my chest against his. I know there’s no going back from this, but I’m done analyzing it, done planning it. Finally ready to trust my gut on this and do whatfeelsright, risk be damned.
The warm feeling low in my belly intensifies as my nipples harden and scrape against his chest, even through the material of my bra and both of our shirts. I groan into his mouth, tongues meshing, dancing, sounding more eager and desperate than I intend to.
His hand begins to move up my leg quicker in response, with more intensity. I know exactly what he’s going to find if he goes just a little farther, and I feel inexplicably nervous for him to touch me, feel andseethe effect he has on me—just how much I want him.
In another second, his fingers snake underneath the hem of my loose shorts and find their way to the last bit of cloth that stands between his bare skin and mine. The final barrier between this line we haven’t quite crossed yet.
His fingers brush the lace, and I know he can feel the damp heat there. He pulls back from my mouth to look down at his hand, hidden beneath my shorts, before meeting my eyes.
“Goddamn,” he whispers, in this throaty way that sends another wave of moisture surging between my legs, and I know he notices that, too.
