Page 23 of The Bait

Asher moaned, the fight in him easing away; the tension leaving his body with every thrust, every slam of Harry’s hips.

With Asher’s jeans still around his thighs, his tight ass was exquisite. The pleasure so intense, so consuming. Harry couldn’t stop, even if he’d wanted to. He drove into him, over and over, ecstasy building higher and higher, his cock so impossibly hard. He drove up into him until he tumbled over the edge.

Pleasure exploded behind his eyes, down his spine, detonating pure bliss. He came, burying his load deep inside him.

Asher gasped as he took it. Harry groaned with every pulse, finally collapsing on top of him.

The room spun, his vision skewed, and the only sound was their laboured breathing. Harry kissed the back of Asher’s neck, unable to move, unable to think.

“Jesus,” Harry mumbled.

“Don’t think for one second you’re done yet,” Asher said. He rolled his hips. “You’ll be done when I say you’re done.”

Harry snorted. “Is that so?” He wasn’t feeling like fighting right now... He was far too boneless.

Asher squirmed underneath him, squeezing Harry’s sensitive cock. “Ah,” Harry hissed.

“Finish what you started,” Asher bit out, trying to move from underneath him, still trying to fight him.

Harry pulled out, making Asher cry out again. He yanked Asher’s jeans down some more and flipped him onto his back, then folded his legs up to his chest. Harry sank his cock back into him and held his hand over Asher’s throat.

“I’ll finish what I started when I fucking want,” Harry rasped.

Keeping his hand on Asher’s throat, he gripped his cock with his other hand and began to stroke him.

Asher’s eyes rolled shut, his face going red as Harry choked him a little. He didn’t need to come again, but his cock was still half-hard and it felt soooo good to be buried inside him.

And apparently Asher wanted Harry’s dick in his ass when he came tonight. Harry was only too happy to oblige. He held Asher down by his throat, buried his cock in his ass, and jerked him off until he came with a strangled cry.

Harry tightened his grip on Asher’s neck as his orgasm rolled through him. Asher’s eyes rolled back, his cock spilling ropes of come across his stomach and over Harry’s hand.

He convulsed and trembled for the longest time until he sagged, and only then did Harry lessen the hold on his throat.

Asher sucked back air, a lazy smile on his lips, his eyes slowly closing.

Serene.

Harry pulled out of him and rolled him onto his side, and Asher moaned contentedly. Harry cleaned him up, pulled the covers up and over him, and let him sleep.

A few minutes later, showered and feeling so much better, Harry crawled into bed, Asher quick to snuggle in. Harry kissed the side of his head. “Wanna have a shower?” he asked quietly.

“Hmmno,” Asher mumbled. “Sleep.”

“’Kay,” Harry murmured. He rubbed Asher’s back, holding him, kissing his head every now and then, waiting for sleep to come. Until he remembered something. “I can’t believe you were going to stab me with a knife.”

Asher chuckled quietly, almost asleep. But he never denied it, and he never apologised, and Harry couldn’t even be mad. He’d asked for the old Asher back—the Asher who could turn night into day on a dime, who took kill shots without blinking—and that’s exactly what he got.

Harry smiled into the dark and sighed, tightening his hold on Asher, and closed his eyes.

The morning lightand the bathroom mirror showed Harry he had clawed nail marks down his neck and chest, a bruise on his thigh, and a mark on his forearm, courtesy of Asher and the fight-sex they’d had last night.

It didn’t compare to the very large finger bruises Asher had on his throat.

Asher seemed pleased by all the war-wounds, looking at his neck from a few angles.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling so jovial about it.

“I could have crushed your hyoid bone,” he mumbled.

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