I nod, sinking to my knees. The floor is cold beneath me, grounding. I wrap one hand around the base and lean forward, tongue darting out to taste the bead of moisture at the tip.
Salt. Musk. Pure Asher.
"That's it," he rumbles above me. "Open wider."
Parting my lips, I take the head into my mouth. He groans, fingers threading through my hair. I hollow my cheeks, sucking gently, working down his length until he hits the back of my throat.
"Fuck, Grace." His grip tightens. "Such a good girl for me. Taking my cock so well."
The praise melts through me like honey. I hum around him, bobbing faster. Everything narrows. The weight of him on my tongue, the slight ache in my jaw, the way his thighs tense under my free hand.
"Look at you." His voice drops to a low gravel. "Pretty little mouth stuffed full. You love this, don't you? Being on your knees for me?"
I do. The realization floods me, warm and certain. I glance up, meeting his gaze, and the raw hunger there steals my breath.
He pulls back, then thrusts deeper. I gag, eyes watering, but he doesn't stop. He sets a rhythm, using my mouth, rough and demanding.
"That's my good little cocksucker," he pants. "Letting me fuck this perfect throat."
My eyes water and tears streak down my cheeks as I relax my jaw and let him take what he needs. The world shrinks to this, pleasing him, being his. His words are dirty and degrading, but they only serve to make me drip, desire trailing down my thighs.
His hips stutter. "I'm going to come on those beautiful tits. Would you like that, Sugar?"
I nod as much as I can with him still in my mouth, humming around him.
He pulls out, fisting himself. "Touch yourself. Show me how wet you are."
My hand dives between my legs, finding slick heat. I whimper, circling my clit.
"Good girl. So obedient." He strokes faster, breath ragged. "Mine."
The word unravels me. Heat erupts across my chest as he comes, painting my breasts with thick ropes. I gasp, hand still working myself, watching him through hazy eyes as I pant through a second orgasm.
“Good girl,” he purrs, “Come with my cum on your tits.”
I break apart, panting out “Yes, Sir” over and over as ecstasy crashes through my body until I collapse on the floor.
Everything feels distant. Floaty. His voice pulls me back.
"Come here, sweet girl." Strong arms lift me, and we’re moving, but I’m too tired to pay attention. Doors open and close, and then I hear the shower running.
He sits me down on the built-in bench and begins to wash me. Lavender soap invades my nostrils, and I lean into him as he cleans. His gentle touch is a contrast to the way he used me moments ago.
When we’re done in the shower, he dries me off and wraps me up in a fluffy robe before taking me to my bed and tucking me under the covers.
“I’ll be right back.”
When he returns minutes later, he has my phone and a glass of water. He plugs the phone in and makes me drink the water before sliding into bed next to me and pulling me against him.
"You did so well," he whispers into my hair. "I'm so proud of you."
I burrow closer, breathing in cedar and salt. Safe. Cherished.
His heartbeat lulls me under, steady and sure, before sleep claims me.
NEW STORY IDEAS
