The moment the words leave my lips, this current of emotion passes between us and his hand clamps around my hip. “I promise, I would never, Wiley. You’re something special. Let me show you just how much.”
He passes his tongue from back to front, circling around my clit, the connection intoxicating. As he builds a rhythm, back and forth, circling, his hand holding me down, I release my doubt and roll my hips back and forth over his face.
“Asher, yes,” I gasp, his tongue finding its way inside me, darting deeper and deeper.
Holding the jersey up with one hand, so I can watch the utter look of bliss on Asher’s face, and placing the other on the back of the seat to steady myself, I do exactly what he asked me to—ride his face.
“You taste so fucking good,” Asher rumbles, the heat from his words teasing my clit, as he grinds my pussy down on his face, moving my hips so his tongue swirls around my puckered back entrance all the way back to my clit.
Every move he makes is perfection. Every sensation lifts my body beyond anything I have ever experienced before. “Asher…”
“I know, baby. You’re close. I can taste it.” I might be the top, but I give over total to control to him, allowing myself to get lost.
Asher adjusts both our positions, shifting one of my knees to the armrest and sucks my clit into his mouth, and manages to slide a finger inside me.
“Holy fucking fuck,” I cry out, bouncing up and down a little as another finger joins the first, my legs beginning to shake.
“That’s it, baby. Come on my face,” Asher demands, and I bite into the back of the leather seat, screaming my climax into it, my entire body trembling.
After what seems like forever, Asher eases me back into his lap. He trails his fingers up and down my thighs, leaving soft kisses along my shoulder and in that sweet spot.
“That was so fucking beautiful,” he rumbles, as I rest my head back on his chest, feeling every word.
“Asher,” I murmur, and he hums against my skin. “I need you to fuck me.”
“Wiley, you have no idea how much I want that, too, but I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, a sadness in his tone, the evidence of his need poking into the small of my back. “And we don’t have any protection.”
Reaching for the box I put the photos in; I pull back the tissue paper to reveal a roll of condoms and hold them up. “I trust you, Asher. There’s no way you can hurt me.”
“Do you know how fucking amazing you are?” he says between kisses, one hand under the jersey teasing my nipple and my need to feel him inside me only intensifies.
“No, but you can keep telling me while you fuck me.”
TWELVE
Asher
I shift Wiley back onto her hands and knees as the last of her aftershocks rock her body. After every one of them, she releases this shuddering breath, and I could listen to it all fucking day. Every damn thing about Wiley Nolan is perfect. Everything.
She watches over her shoulder as I slide the condom over my cock, stroking myself. “Do that again.”
“Do what?” she asks, one eyebrow rising.
“Bit your lip while you watch me,” I instruct.
“Then stroke your cock and I will,” she counters and I do as she asks, the veins in my forearm protruding with my vice-like grip.
When her teeth sink into her bottom lip, I eat it up. She strokes my ego even more as her mouth falls open in pleasure when I swipe my cock through her pussy, coating it. “Still so fucking wet, little wildling.”
“That’s because I’m still so fucking horny, Asher,” she breathes, rocking back against me.
“Let me fix that for you, huh?” Bracing one hand on her hip, I hook my thumb into her G-string and hold it aside, dipping the head of my cock into her tight entrance, releasing my own shuddering breath.
Keep your shit together, Asher. I warn myself, the idea of sinking into her on one stroke, the only thought taking over. When she edges herself back more, I work hard to not to let her. “Slowly, baby.”
I’ve got a big dick. There’s no if’s and’s or but’s about it. Some guys think it’s a blessing. Most of the time, it’s a curse. Most of the women I’ve been with eye off my cock like a fucking meal, but soon realise it’s more than they can take. It’s not like I don’t enjoy myself with women, because I fucking have. But it’s not always all of me. Hell, ninety percent of the time, if I’m being honest. I don’t want to push Wiley past what she can take—for now. She might not know it yet, but I don’t want any other woman…ever, so we have plenty of time to work up to all of me.
“Asher,” she pants, and I stop, letting her adjust, and reach around to tease her clit gently. “Fuck, you feel so good.”