Page 44 of Siren's Game

My pussy starts quivering, my core already tightening as I picture him going at it between my legs.

I'd tighten my hold on his hair and push him against my folds, waiting for him to do something and he'd look up at me with that cocky, mischievous glint in his eyes before pushing his fingers into me and fucking me with them until I came apart right under his touch.

And suddenly, I'm there, not only in my fantasy.

"Fuck!"

My whole body starts trembling and I throw the little vibrator somewhere beside me, my fingers circling my clit, keeping my orgasm going and going, the vibrations inside me fogging my brain.

One isn't enough.

I keep my fingers where they are, my other hand gripping the base of the vibrator inside me. The slightest pull and push, slow thrusting as my fingers abuse my clit, is enough to announce my next orgasm approaching, even bigger, more gratifying than the one before as I imagine it’s him touching me.

Holy fuck.

"Ash-ahh. Fuck," I curse as my fingers quicken, and before I know it, fireworks go off behind my eyes and my whole body shakes with pleasure again.

Holy shit.

I pull out the vibrator, heavy breaths the only sound in the room as I turn it off and throw it somewhere onto the bed as I put my forearm over my eyes, trying to catch my breath.

Wow. I feel better now. Clearer in the head, all the more questioning what the fuck just happened.

Do his words seriously have this kind of effect on me? This much power?

What the hell is Asher doing to me? And how can I stop it?

I'm still rattled three days later. Mike is already annoyed with me for not having my head in the game—or rather, dance—because I just can't get anything right today. I lose the beat, walk the wrong direction, I’m just a mess.

I haven't seen Asher since that eventful evening. We also haven't messaged.

Which suits me fine, because I have no idea what to even say. I finally jumped over my own shadow and added his number to my contacts, though, so that’s something.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Not for him to appear in front of my apartment door in the middle of the night to profess his undying love, apologize for the unwarranted jealousy and fuck me into oblivion, that's for sure, but maybe a message?

Somethingthat would make whatever is happening between us not seem as awkward as our last conversation left it.

"Is everything okay?" Millie asks during our water break, a worried wrinkle popping up between her eyebrows as she twists her bottle open.

"Yeah," I say with a curt nod, but I can see in her face that she's not buying it. "Everything’s alright. I'm just a bit overwhelmed. New choreography, new remix, so little time . . . "

"New relationship," she adds with a grin. "Have you seen what they're all saying online?" I shoot her a glare. I can’t believe she’d keep tabs on what our fans post about Asher and me. We’re supposed to stay off the internet when we’re not posting ourselves. Not that I’m adhering to it, but I’m also not the one the internet has mean shit to say about. “Come on, you know I’m nosy.”

"Of course you are," I say with an eye roll, then I add more quietly: “And of course I know.”

Especially after our last outing, I couldn't help but snoop around a bit. In fact, I spent half a night doom scrolling various social media platforms. Which didn't help with this newfound infatuation at all. If anything, it fed into my delusions.

Our fans love us. Like, obsessively.

The way I feel about Millie and Luca, wishing for them to be the end game for each other? That's how our fans feel about Asher and me, and while it’s flattering of course, it's also driving me up the wall, knowing it will never happen for real.

Do you see the way he looks at her? I'm 100% sure that man would kill for her.

Okay, but do you see how she blushes when their eyes meet?

Where can I find a man who'll look at me like I hung the moon?

And I hate to say it, but I can see it? On the pictures the paparazzi released, he looks firm and angry whenever he's facing the cameras. But when he looks back to check on me?

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