With a wicked determination in his eyes, he crawls onto the mattress. He sits back on his haunches and grasps my shins, his thumbs digging into my calves. “Can I see your pussy?”
When I’ve nodded my consent, he slowly spreads my legs apart like a curtain, revealing the most intimate part of my body.
He swipes a hand down his face. “Fuck, Claire. It’s pretty. Even better than I imagined.”
Suddenly, a wave of bashfulness washes over me. I want this,I do, but this position—splayed out before him—is a vulnerable one.
Lying on his stomach, he positions his head between my legs. He plants a kiss on the inside of one thigh, then the other, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin there. The warmth inside me grows. What will it feel like against my pussy?
He nips my skin, and I flinch, startled.
That’s enough to have him pulling back and making eye contact. “This okay?”
“Mmm.” I hum my approval, my eyes locked with his. “C’mon, Greer. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He grins into my flesh. “And here I thought doctors were supposed to be patient.”
I clamp my thighs together, trapping his head in a warning. “Let’s. Go. Greer.”
When I release my grip, he rests his head against my leg and presses a fingertip to my opening. “Look how wet you are.”
He slips the tip in but pulls it out before I have a chance to fully enjoy the sensation. He paints my clit in my arousal, then dips back inside for more. He does this over and over until I grab his wrist, sealing his finger inside me, like a cork to a bottle of wine.
“Tell me how to make you come,” he whispers.
“Tongue. Use your tongue.” I relax my hands at the hem of my shirt.
He removes his finger and replaces it with his tongue. Just the tip at first, but after a moment, he spreads it flat against my entire center.
“Fuck,” I moan.
“You like that?”
A slew of incoherent words rushes out of my mouth as I nod, my eyes falling shut.
He blows against my pussy, then alternates between flicking and sucking, keeping me guessing for what may come next.
“Fingers. Use your fingers,” I direct.
He puts two digits in his mouth, coating them with his saliva, then slides them inside me.
“What else do you like, Claire?”
“F-fuck me with your fingers. Please.” I thrust against his hand and tongue, my fingers gripping his hair, anchoring him to my core. I’m most likely smothering him with my cunt, but I don’t care. I’m too fucking close.
“That’s it. Keep going. Please don’t stop,” I cry.
Asher picks up the pace, fucking me hard and fast with his fingers while sucking delicately on my clit. The juxtaposition is maddening.
“Yes, yes. I’m gonna come.” I moan much louder than intended.
“Shh. You have to stay quiet.” He nips at my thigh but doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers.
Heart racing, I clutch the spare pillow beside me and clamp it over my face. Just in time, too, because in the next second, he takes me over the edge, and a surprising primal sound launches from my lungs. My stomach spasms and my cunt grips his fingers as I unravel against his mouth.
My movements cause his mustache to brush against my sensitive clit, and my body spasms again.
Slowly, he slides his fingers out, and he gently massages my thigh as I come down from my euphoria. I’m still breathing heavily into the pillow when the bed dips on my right. Asher removes the pillow, and when I finally peer over at him, his head is propped up on his hand, a smug expression plastered on his face.
