Page 37 of Summer with a Player

"More," is all I can manage to reply, lost in the sensations flooding my body.

He gives me exactly what I ask for and enters me. Each thrust is a resurrection to my once pained soul.

"Stay with me," I breathe out, a prayer wrapped in the throes of passion.

"Always," he assures me.

As our movements synchronize, there's a sense of coming home, not to a place, but to a person—a rare feeling of belonging that I've only ever glimpsed in dreams. Asher, with each purposeful motion, seems to be saying, 'Here is where you're meant to be.'

And I believe him.

Here, with Asher, I find a sanctuary not even my eclectic tiny home could offer—a haven of two hearts learning to beat as one.

Our moans of ecstasy crescendo, a loud song that resonates through the yacht's master suite.

"Elle," Asher grunts, his voice bold with pleasure. His arms, powerful and loving, pull me impossibly closer, as if he could merge our bodies into one.

"Yes, Asher..." My reply is half-lost in a gasp as the yacht rocks gently beneath us. The room spins, but it's not the motion of the boat—it's us, spiraling together toward a precipice we're eager to tumble over.

With each thrust, my body wants to release the coiled tension in my core.

"Elle, I'm—" His words fracture as the surge of ecstasy crashes through both our bodies at the same time. I cling to him, nails digging into the broad of his back.

I moan, whisper, shout—all at once as my climax washes over me, leaving me trembling. Asher's name becomes my mantra, my lifeline, as he holds me tight, our bodies shaking.

There is no past, no future—only the electricity pulsing through us, binding us together. We've found an oasis in each other.

As the last shivers of pleasure fade, I'm left breathless, my ear pressed against Asher's chest. I listen to the rapid beat of his heart, a rhythm that slowly calms to match my own.

He gently kisses my temple, his breath warm against my hair.

I don’t say anything, not wanting to break the spell. For now, words are unnecessary.

Our limbs are a tangled mess as we lie in each other's embrace. The yacht rocks gently, and I find my breath syncing with Asher's—a soft exhale against the nape of my neck, his chest rising and falling against my back. It's a dance of inhalations and exhalations.

"Elle," his voice is barely audible, a rumble that vibrates through me. I turn within the cocoon of his arms to face him. His gaze holds mine.

"Hey," I reply, my thumb brushing over the stubble on his chiseled jaw.

We're two pieces of a complicated puzzle that just happen to fit perfectly together.

I trail my fingers down his muscular chest, each scar and contour a story I want to learn. His hand cups my face, his thumb caressing my cheek.

"Elle," he says again, and there's a weight to it, a promise wrapped in my name. "You've unlocked something in me I didn't even know was chained."

I lean in, capturing his lips with mine. The kiss is sweet and unhurried.

Pulling back, I rest my forehead against his, our gazes locked. "Asher," I whisper, "with you, I feel seen—not for what I could be or should be, but for who I am." It's a truth that scares me, but with him, I’m no longer afraid.

"You’re," he starts, his voice cracking with emotion, " my sure shot—the play I’d make time and again." There's a playful spark in his eyes that matches the curve of his lips. I see the boy who loved hockey with all his heart, now a man unafraid to love with the same amount of passion.

We are two souls, once adrift, now anchored in each other's arms.

The rhythm of Asher's heartbeat under my ear becomes the world's most soothing sound. With every rise and fall of his chest, I sink deeper into a state of bliss.

His fingers, calloused from gripping hockey sticks and battle-worn pucks, now circles on my back. There's a tenderness to his touch that whispers promises of forever without saying a word. It's a language our bodies have learned with ease—a dialogue of flesh and soul.

"I love you," I sigh against his skin, inhaling the mingling scents of salt air and his cologne, a fragrance that has become my sanctuary. It's not just a request for tonight but for all the tomorrows that might come with their own set of storms.

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