The heat builds, a wave cresting higher and higher, and I smirk with satisfaction when I see the deep grooves my teeth have left in his skin. I hope it bruises. I want to mark him permanently.
Asher sits up, one hand still holding my hips tight to his, but the other pushing my upper body backward until I have to throw my arms back or risk falling. He goes up to his knees and my arms give out, unable to hold so much of my own weight at this angle. My upper back hits the bed as he keeps my hips raised and level with his. When I meet his eyes, his are simmering pools of possessive desire, flashing with sparks of something deeper I can’t quite figure out, but it speaks to me in an instinctual way.
He draws himself out, oh so slowly lighting up every nerve ending I have. His eyes flick back to mine, and I fist my hands in the bed sheets, holding on to anything I can in preparation for whatever the feral gleam in his gaze means. And then he hammers into me, relentless in his pursuit of my pleasure.
My orgasm builds, that undeniable heat radiating through me, and I gasp when his hands tilt my hips so he hits a new spot deep inside.
“Oh, shit.” The words are forced out before the wave catches me in its pull.
His eyes are locked on mine, watching every moment of my pleasure as I chant his name and the wave carries me higher and higher, until it finally crashes and my mind explodes with flashing white lights. My climax keeps pulsing through me, sending my body into convulsions as I helplessly ride it out and Asher continues to pound into me. My pussy is clenchingaround him, his hips slamming into mine, before he finally drives in one last time, sealing us together as he lets go, spilling himself into me.
We stay like that for long moments, locked together with most of my body in the air, being held up by his. I throw my arms over my head, trying to give my lungs more room to breathe. Our chests heave and we’re both slick with sweat. Asher’s gaze roams up and down, scorching a path over my skin as he unclenches his fingers where they’ve left divots in my hips. He strokes his hands over the marks, and his eyes leisurely make their way back up to mine.
I’m pretty sure I’m grinning, but I also can’t feel most of my body so it’s hard to tell. Based on the gentle smile he gives me though, I think that I must be. Asher lowers us both back to the bed, and I slump into the mattress.
I can barely keep my eyes open in the aftermath. Asher settles next to me and traces his fingers lightly over my skin, swirling around my shoulders and chest, up and down my arms, bringing goosebumps to the surface everywhere he touches. I sigh and roll into his side, flinging an arm and leg over him while my lungs still work to catch up.
I trace the mark my teeth left on his chest, blinking in astonishment.
Who am I? I acted like a deranged animal, completely unlike myself.
Looking up into his eyes though, all I see is pride and satisfaction.
“Don’t even think about apologizing,” he says, a rare twinkle in his eye. “I want to get it tattooed so it’s marked there permanently.”
My eyes flare in alarm at the answering heat that rushes through me.
Seriously, what in the world is this man doing to me?
Smirking, he kisses my temple, then tracesa finger over my neck, and his eyes darken for a moment again, but I’m pretty sure it’s not from lust this time. I suspect I still have the yellow remnants of bruising there that my shifter healing hasn’t fully taken care of yet. I don’t want to look though, preferring not to have that image in my brain.
Asher slowly sits up, raising his arms above his head in a frankly indecent stretch that threatens to send my mind straight back to the gutter. Before I get any fresh ideas, he’s hauling me up with him as he shuffles up the bed to rest against the headboard, then settles me against him again.
“Can I see your hand? I’d like to check if it’s started healing yet.”
I hold my bandaged hand out for him and he unwraps it gently. The wounds have started to scab, and the dried blood sticks to the soft cotton as he unwraps it. Wincing, he removes it as carefully as he can, but there’s no avoiding the fact that it’s not healed yet, and inevitably starts bleeding again.
My thoughts are flying a mile a minute, but I have no doubts when I speak.
“You can heal it for me.”
My eyes dart up, seeing his gaze already on mine.
“Are you sure?” he says, voice steady.
I nod. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
“I’m not going to bite you, but my fangs might look a little bigger. Even more than they have when I’ve accidentally… well.” He clears his throat. “Certain… changes happen when we have these intentions, to heal or to hurt.”
I nod again, more firmly this time, understanding that his fangs are going to come out, and they might look big and scary, but he’s not going to use them. I ignore the swoop of disappointment in my gut.
Asher licks his lips, then slowly raises my hand to his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. As soon as his tongue touches the first cut, his eyes flare, and his body turns to stone.
35
HER
ASHER
