Page 142 of Deceit

He huffs out a breath as he nods. I peek into the bedroom beside the master and smile as I envision it before me.

“The crib could go over there, and the dresser there. What do you think about one of those really soft fluffy rugs in the middle of the room?” I ask as I point to the carpeted floor.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “That would be nice.”

I continue smiling as I envision it. I’m only nineteen. The idea of children should terrify me, and it does to an extent, absolutely, but one day, maybe.

We finish with all the rooms inside of the house before making our way out back. It already has an inground pool, with a really cool waterfall built around it and a hot tub, so I couldn’t be happier.

Asher says that he’d like to get some type of a gazebo back here and I nod my agreement. Eventually, we find our way back tothe front of the house where we take a seat on the porch swing. We’re slowly swaying on it, when I turn to face him.

“We’re going to have a happy life, right?”

He falters for a moment, like that was the last thing he expected me to ask before he reaches out, covering my hand with his as he squeezes.

“As happy as we’re allowed.”

I can feel my mouth tip down at that, it wasn’t really the words I was looking for, but it’s honest. Can’t fault him for that. Us getting married isn’t going to magically pull any of us out from under anyone’s thumb. We’re as trapped today, as we were yesterday, and the day before that. Right now, we aren’t trying to progress, we are trying to survive.

“I’m scared,” I admit, on a soft whisper while staring out at the porch.

I feel Asher’s eyes on me, and I turn, giving him a watery smile.

“About tomorrow,” I explain. “I’ve had the experience built up in my head for a while, and this wasn’t how I pictured it going.”

He nods as he scoots a little closer to me, our thighs touching one another and our clasped hands now in his lap.

“I know. It wasn’t what I had planned for us either.”

“You had something planned?” I ask, my mouth lifting slightly.

Asher runs a hand through his deep brown hair, forcing it out of his face as he does.

“I mean, not set in stone or anything, but I’d thought about it. Thought about how it would go.”

“How did it look?” I ask softly, my eyes locking onto his, my face closer than I intended. I don’t pull away, though, and neither does he.

“You, me, this house. I pictured bringing you home after the wedding, and getting you out of that white dress that will no doubt drive me fucking wild all night. I would have kissed you,before making sure my lips touched every single inch of your skin. I’d have given you a minimum of two orgasms before I even tried to fuck you, intent on easing you into it.”

“And then?” I practically beg.

His hand reaches out to me cupping my jaw as he brings us so close together, our lips brush against one another as he speaks.

“And then I would have made love to you for hours. Over and over again, knowing that I could never have my fill of you but trying nonetheless.”

I feel a shiver run up my spine at the way his deep voice rumbles each word.

“Tomorrow will easily be one of the hardest things we will both ever face, I won’t lie,” he admits as he continues. “But today…right now, I want to take something, just for us. No one interfering, no one demanding. Something they will never be able to take away,” he says, his lower lip brushing against my own every other word. I’m practically shaking with need, the tension, the desperation so overwhelming I fear I’m ready to combust.

“Give me something that’s just for us, Asher. Please.”

The whimper in my please seems to snap any resistance he had. His lips close the distance, pressing fully against my own. A tingling rush starts at where our mouths meet and runs all the way to my toes. A light feeling overtaking me, as I melt into his touch.

He’s surprisingly a gentle kisser. I expected him to be harsh and demanding like Vincent, and maybe he is occasionally but right now, with me, he’s just…perfect.

Never thought I’d think that about Asher Putnam.

I feel his fingers weave through my hair, curling around my strands against my scalp and pulling slightly. The sensation forces a moan out of me, and that gives him the perfect access to slip his tongue in before tangling with my own. I don’t even try tobattle him for dominance. Instead, I sit here pliant, willing and ready to take anything and everything he’s willing to give me.

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