Page 32 of Moonlit Thorns

Chapter

Fifteen

ASHER

What the hell am I doing?

I already promised myself I’d stay away from this girl. For her sake as well as mine. Nothing good can come of me kissing her.

But she’s a motherfucking flame, and I’m the moth who doesn’t care if my wings get burned.

Her full lips touch mine, and all the shit that consumes my mind falls away. The years of abuse at my father’s hands, the daily bullshit I have to deal with running Voss Enterprises, the grief from speaking of my mother tonight.

All there is is her, Anabelle Boudreaux. Anabelle with her long, silky brown hair that I’ve fantasized about wrapping around my fist while I drive into her. Anabelle with her sweet smile and sassy mouth. She does her best to stand up to me when not many people ever will.

Anabelle who is fourteen years younger than me.

“This isn’t a good idea,” I murmur against her lips. “You’re practically a child compared to me.”

She rips her lips away from mine, and I instantly regret the small bit of conscience I have left that made me voice those words.

“I’m not a child. I’m a woman.” She scowls, and I can’t help but think that she reminds me of what a bunny might look like baring its teeth.

But she’s not wrong—she is a woman.

If I hadn’t been so in my head about my mother, I probably would have pounced on her earlier. Seeing her in her skimpy shorts and tank, ready for bed was beat-off material for my brain. Now, here I am pressed against her generous curves, desperate for more than just a kiss.

But she isn’t nearly as experienced as I am. Doesn’t hold the same sexual appetite and affinity for the things I do. I’ll ruin her, scandalize her, and then I’ll be done with her. Normally that wouldn’t bother me in the least… but with her… it matters for some reason.

“You are a woman. All woman.” I slide my hands up under my shirt that hangs to her knees. My ego likes seeing her in my shirt. It wants to roar at the visual and the thought of covering her in my scent. “But we’re not compatible.”

“How do you know?” She pushes toward me, sure to connect with my cock that’s straining against the confines of my pants. “We feel pretty compatible to me.”

A growl rips through my chest.

Her big brown innocent eyes look at me. “Please… you’re all I can think of since you kissed me.”

My eyes close of their own volition, savoring her words. It proves how little she knows me that she’d give me that little bit of truth to manipulate her with.

Fuck, the idea of sinking into her, having my way with her, here, now, in the middle of the night is almost my undoing. But some small shred of decency I seem to have when it comes to her prevents me from doing so.

My eyes snap open and meet hers. “Have you ever had a man feast on your cunt?”

My blunt words hit their target, and she blinks, momentarily stunned by my crass question. That’s nothing. If she only knew. “Um… yeah. A couple times in college.”

I scoff. “I’m not talking about some little college shit who doesn’t know what to do with his tongue. I’m talking about a man, a man who knows how to work your clit with his tongue like he’s a maestro. Who knows how to curl his fingers when he fucks you with them so that you see stars. A man who will lap at you like he’ll never be able to get enough of your taste. Who feels like he’ll die if you don’t come all over his face.”

By the time I’m done talking, her pupils are practically blown out. Instead of scaring her off, I’ve done the opposite. I’ve turned us both on.

“I’ve never had that,” she whispers. “But I want it.” Her hands slip up under my shirt and she slides her shorts down until they land around her ankles on the grass. “Will you show me what that’s like?”

Jesus Christ. How can she be so sweet and sexy all at once? It’s a paradox I’m desperate to decode.

The scent of her arousal wafts toward me, and my cock twitches. I have to taste her. I have to. Fuck the consequences. Because there are always consequences.

But if she thinks she’s in control here, she’s wrong. I’m going to show her who owns her body.

I lift my dress shirt, getting my first look at her pussy. Her bare pussy. She’s managed to surprise me. It’s not what I expected, but I’m pleased.

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