So, I’m sure Ella is sweating right now. We’re supposed to arrive at the symphony in ninety minutes, and I’m not even home yet. I’ve already fielded several calls and texts from my mother as well. She knows what’s on the line, and she knows why Ella asked her to accompany us tonight, and she will expect this to be executed flawlessly. Me running an hour behind is not exactly flawless, and she’s not above badgering me about it.
At least neither of them knowswhyI’m running an hour behind.
Thirty minutes later, I’m finally home, and a hoard of people are here, camped out in the space between my living room and dining area. But my focus lands on one person and one person only. I cross the room in a few strides and step in front of the makeup chair she’s sitting in.
“Asher!” Ella gasps happily. And even though I know it will get me in trouble with the makeup artist, I grab both sides of Ella’s face and bring it to mine. I plant a kiss on her before she can say another word. She lets out a soft moan into my mouth, and I slip my tongue inside. I don’t care that we have anaudience. I can’t wait one more second for this. In fact, there’s something else I can’t wait for.
“Please excuse us,” I rasp out when I finally force myself to pull away. The makeup artist and hair stylist both chuckle as I take Ella by the hand and lead her away—toward our bedroom.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I practically drag her along behind me.
“I know we’re running behind, but this can’t wait.”
“What can’t wait?” Her nose is scrunched in that cute way of hers when I shut and lock the door behind her.
“You and me. I need you. I won’t make it through the night if I can’t touch you first.”
Maybe it’s the adrenaline still pumping through my veins from what I did to Dimitri or the fact that I finally hit back at Sergei in a concrete way. Or maybe it’s because I know that this war between us is only going to get worse before it’s over, and the thing I’m scared about more than anything is the safety of the woman before me. But I need to feel her, be with her, be inside her. She’s my home, and the only thing I have to hold onto. She’s the only thing keeping me sane.
“But we need to leave soon.”
“And we will. But only after I’ve been inside you first.”
She raises a brow. “We don’t have time.”
“I fuck you here or I fuck you at the symphony, take your pick, baby, because it’s happening either way.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I can only imagine the headlines if we got caught fucking at the symphony.”
“Good, then we agree to fucking now.”
“What has gotten into you?”
I nip at her neck. “I just need you. I’m literally dying.”
She scoffs again. “Dying?”
“Dying.”
Shamelessly, I pick her up, and she wraps her legs aroundmy waist. Thank fuck she’s not in her dress yet and the little white silk robe she’s wearing doesn’t restrict her. I carry her over to the bed and drop her onto it.
“Strip,” I command.
She opens her mouth to argue again, but I cut her off. “Don’t make me say it again. And don’t think I won’t fuck you in public if I can’t have you now.”
Heat flushes her cheeks, and I know I have her. She opens her robe and discards her bra and panties in a flash. I rip my own clothes off in record time then prowl toward her as she scoots back on the bed. I crash my lips to hers again, but as I move to press her to lie back, she surprises me by slipping out from under me and flipping over to straddle me.
“Andre will kill me if I ruin my hair. So I’m on top, Mr. Langford.”
“I’ll take you any way you’ll have me,” I say against her lips as I slip a finger inside her. “Fuck, baby, you’re already so wet for me.”
She grinds against my hand, moaning into my mouth, as I fuck her hard with my fingers. But too soon, I grow impatient and slip them out of her.
“When you come, it’s going to be on my cock.”
I lift her by the hips and line myself up with her entrance, then practically slam her back down, letting out a hiss of pleasure at the feel of being inside her. I bite down on my fist to keep from biting and marking her skin with the feral need coursing through me. Normally, I’d revel in the sight of my love marks on her body, but since she will be photographed under immense scrutiny tonight, I find a sliver of self-control and keep my teeth to myself.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I rasp out as I tighten my grip on her hips, reveling in the feel of their softness beneath my palms. Every inch of her is perfection to me, for no otherreason than because it’s her. She calls to me in a way nothing and no one ever has. “I want to have you every moment of every day. God, I can’t get enough of you.”
