Again, the faint command in his tone has me wanting to rub my legs together, to rip this blindfold off and pull him towards me.
"Tell me, Ivy." Asher says again, his voice tinged with amusement, like he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from my mouth.
"Say it again." I hush.
His laughter is low, "say what?"
"Asher-"
"I'm not going to say anything until you say the words."
I debate for a second ripping the blindfold off just to save me the embarrassment of saying the words but then Asher is draggingmy hands lower and I feel my fingers slim the bulge behind the denim.
"Tell me I'm doing good."
With the blindfold on, the rest of my senses are heightened so it's easier to hear the hitch in his breath, the intake before his hands are no longer holding my wrist.
"Take control and I will."
I freeze. "What?"
"Do what you want, Ivy. Take control."
I hesitate a second, my hand hovering still over the bulge in his pants but then I move, skimming my fingers upwards, touching the heat of Asher's stomach again.
The muscles beneath my fingertips seem to tighten in response, and Asher lets out a soft groan that makes my heart skip a beat.
With renewed confidence, I lift my other hand and begin to explore the rest of Asher's body, feeling the chiselled lines of his chest, my fingertips tingling from the sensations. I trace the outline of his muscles, following the contours of his body like an artist trying to capture the essence of their subject.
I hear Asher's breathing becoming more ragged as I continue my exploration, and the scent of his cologne fills the room, a heady mix of spice and masculinity. My hands move lower, feeling the hard ridges of his hips beneath the denim, and I can't help but imagine the way they would feel against my bare skin.
My fingers dip beneath the denim of his jeans, tugging at the rough material, moving by feel alone until I have him in my hand.
Asher's breath hitches, and I can almost feel the intensity of his desire coursing through his veins. My fingers tighten around him, exploring his length, feeling every ridge and vein with a dexterity that can only come from years of practice and careful study, all because of a blindfold, because every other sense is more prominent.
My hand moves up and down, setting a pace that seems to please him, his breath ragged and uneven. I listen to the way he reacts to each touch, the way his body responds to my every move. I adjust my hand, finding the perfect rhythm, the perfect pressure.
"Ivy." Asher moans my name, a ragged whisper.
I can't help but smile, feeling a rush of power and desire coursing through me. I increase my pace, my hand moving faster and more confidently, my fingers gliding over his shaft like they were meant to be there. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin slick with sweat from the effort of holding back.
The blindfold is still in place, but I don't need to see to know that he's completely entranced by my touch. His breath is coming in short, sharp gasps, and the sounds he makes are incredibly arousing. He keeps repeating my name, like a mantra, as if trying to will himself to stay put, to keep from coming.
"I can't-" Asher cuts off with a grunt, his hips spasming.
I increase my pace again, my hand flying up and down his length, each stroke more determined than the last. I can feelthe tension building within him, the longing growing more pronounced with each passing moment.
His body is tense, straining against the denim as if trying to break free. The sound of his ragged breathing fills the room, a symphony of need and desire. I know that it won't be long now.
I slow my pace, wanting to prolong his orgasm, to draw out the anticipation as long as I can. It's almost like I can hear the heartbeat in his chest, pounding like a wild animal, matching the rhythm of my hand moving over him but I'm not sure if that's my own heartbeat.
"Fuck." Asher's voice is rough, low. "Ivy, fuc-"
Warm spurts of cum cover my hand and wrist but I keep pumping, listening to the way Asher sucks in a rough breath, the feel of his body drawing towards me like he has no choice but to almost fall forward.
I slow, but don't stop not until Asher's hand is resting on mine and he's stopping me.
Then the feel of him lifting the blindfold. I flinch from the sudden flash of light, my eyes finding Asher's quickly to see him staring down at me with a wrinkle between his brows.
