Page 49 of Defending What's Mine

I gently rock my hips forward, letting his dick go deeper inside me. “Ah,” I moan out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes, his voice low and gravelly.

We take our time with each other, letting our bodies rock gently together as our mouths connect. We kiss lazily, until a need—a fire—ignites deep within me.

I punch my hips forward, picking up my speed as I ride his dick. I keep moving, grinding against him.

Asher smiles, wrapping a hand around my hair, creating a ponytail. “Look at somebody getting impatient.”

“I need to come,” I whine.

He tugs my hair, bringing my head back slightly. He sinks his teeth into my neck, sucking my skin into his mouth. Marking me. “I know you do, pretty girl.” He keeps sucking, and I try to move a little.

“Don’t mark me,” I tell him, thinking about what everyone would say if I come down to breakfast tomorrow with a giant hickey on my neck.

“I won’t,” he whispers as he releases my skin, looking to make sure he hasn’t left a mark. “I’d never.” He lowers his head, clasping his mouth around my breast, his tongue working my hardened nipple between his teeth. “Now keep riding me. Show me how badly you need to come all over me.”

I pick up my pace, riding him with wild abandon. I need my orgasm like I need my next breath, however Asher doesn’t move.

He almost looks pained as he watches me bounce up and down on him. “Keep riding me.”

“Why aren’t you moving?” I ask him. “Why aren’t you fucking me?”

“Because you haven’t begged me to,” he whispers.

I stall my movements, my eyes connecting with his. I place a hand over his chest as my other hand cups his cheek. “Fuck me, Asher. Fuck me as hard as you can. I want you begging me to come inside me. Please, oh please. Asher, please fuck me.”

His eyes turn charcoal black as his dick thumps low inside me. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please,” my voice is high-pitched as I beg. “Please, fuck me.”

He tosses me off him, placing my back flat against the lounge chair. He lifts my legs over his shoulders, and slams back into me.

Ah, now I asked for it.

21

Asher

She wants me to fuck her? Then, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll bring this woman close to passing out by the time I’m through with her. I’ll have her begging me to stop.

I slam my dick deep inside her, loving the way her body accepts me so easily. Well, now it does. At first I have to work my way in there, because she’s so goddamn tight, but now… I’m able to fuck her like she was made for me to fuck her.Hard.

Her nails drag roughly down my back, the catch of each fingertip sending sparks in every direction. She knots her hands at my hips, pulling me closer, urging me on with a breathless “Don’t stop.” The words come out unfiltered, airy and full of need, echoing in the quiet night air.

It hits me just how unself-conscious she is—how she’s as uninhibited as the ocean tide below us. The possibility that someone could stroll past the garden path and catch an accidental glimpse barely even registers for her now. And, God, that freedom is intoxicating.

My security mind never fully powers down. I keep a steady peripheral scan: one ear tuned to distant footfalls, eyes shooting quick glances to the gate and tree line between slow blinks. If the smallest threat cropped up, I’d have her whisked safely inside in seconds. But I know for certain we’re alone out here; every guard rotation is logged, every corridor locked down.

Moonlight slants across her skin in silver ribbons. I cup the back of her neck, lowering my forehead to hers so we’re breathing the same air—her heartbeat syncs with the pulse hammering in my ears. For a fragment of time I process the tactical landscape: Wade’s name flickers in the back of my mind—still a wildcard, still on my watch list—but tonight he’s nowhere near this private quadrant.

Part of me almost hopes he could witness just five seconds of the devotion glimmering in Charlotte’s eyes, the trust, the way her entire body melts against me. Maybe then he’d finally understand she isn’t his to claim.

But reality slips back, Wade’s out of sight, and as long as I’m breathing, he’ll stay out of her life. Right now, the only thing that matters is the woman in my arms, the soft hitch of her breath, the way the stars crown her hair. In this moment, in this safe slice of the world, nothing exists beyond the two of us intertwined beneath the wide, watchful sky.

I ease the pace, drawing the moment out, savoring every gasp, every whisper of my name. Her hands slide up to cradle my face, and our eyes lock—storm-bright blue meeting night-shadow gray. There’s trust written there.

I trace my thumb along her cheekbone. “I’ve got you,” I promise in a hushed growl—the only words that matter.

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