“Where did I say to keep your hands?”
“Oh,fuck.” She cries out the curse, and her hands move back to position. “Please, please, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Sugar.” I reach up, stroking her face. “You’re learning. Now, let’s try again.”
I dive back in, lapping at her cunt like it’s my last meal while my fingers work her pussy, stretching her tight walls.
“I want you to come, Sugar. Come all over my tongue so I can taste how sweet you are.”
My words do the trick, pushing her over the edge. She screams through an orgasm, and her sweet taste floods my mouth. I lick it up, relishing her moans and how her body trembles.
When I sit back up, she’s catching her breath, eyes hazy and skin flushed prettily.
I lift my glistening finger, making sure she sees it before I suck her juices clean.
“Mm, you do taste like sugar.”
25
GRACE
The world reassembles itself in fragments.
First, the weight of Asher's hand on my thigh. Warm. Steady. Grounding me back into my body. Then the rough material of the couch beneath me. My breathing is still uneven, heart drumming against my ribs like it's trying to escape.
"Sugar." His voice cuts through the fog, low and careful. "Look at me."
I drag my eyes open. He's there, kneeling beside the couch, still fully dressed except for his rolled-up sleeves. The contrast makes something twist in my chest—him composed, me wrecked.
“How do you feel?”
My throat works on a swallow. Words feel clumsy, inadequate. "I don't— I don't know."
“I’m going to get you water.”
The idea of him leaving makes me panic, and my hand shoots out, fingers tangling in his shirt before I can think better of it.
His expression shifts. Something unreadable crosses his face before he covers my hand with his. "Alright. I’m here."
He stands, sitting down next to me and wrapping his arms around my shoulder to tug me into him. The embrace comforts me, and I close my eyes, letting myself slowly come back into my body.
We didn’t even do anything crazy; he didn’t even penetrate me. But still, I think I just had the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My legs feel wobbly, arms nothing but spaghetti noodles.
My brain is mush.
It felt so good to shut everything else out and to only focus on what he was telling me, doing to me. I was lost in the power of his mouth, figuratively and literally.
I inhale his scent, cedar and sea salt, and slow my breathing.
“I need you to drink some water now,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. When I nod my response, he rises, moving to the cart to pour me water from the pitcher before returning. He watches as I drink, his eyes assessing my every movement.
I’ve never felt so seen and cared for.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Okay.” My voice comes out scratchy. "Just... floaty."
"That's normal." He nods to the cup. “Drink more.”
