Page 62 of Forbidden Hearts
His fingers move up my legs, around to the front of me, and he rubs my clit. I moan, my cheek against the wall.
“Stay like this,” he orders then drops to his knees. “I’m going to lift your leg, so balance.”
Oh. My. God. I can barely breathe. Asher puts my back to the wall and then lifts my injured leg, putting it over his shoulder, then the other leg, and I drop, all my weight there as he holds me up, but before I can say anything he’s kissing the inside of my thigh.
“Asher, stop,” I say quickly, stopping him from moving to do exactly what he plans to do. “I need to explain that, I don’t . . . it doesn’t . . . happen for me like this. Please don’t take it personally. It isn’t you, it’s me.”
He laughs and pushes my legs farther apart as my heart races, afraid that this is going to go down a very bad path. “No, baby, it’s not you, it’s whoever did it before. I’ll stay here for hours if that’s how long it takes. You’re going to come this way. You’re going to let me lap every drop from this pretty pussy until you fall apart.”
“Oh God.” My head rests against the wall as he takes one long lick. “Asher.”
He moans and shifts us again, giving him a better angle. His tongue moves up and down, over and over, flicking my clit and causing me to pant. I can’t move. I’m completely at his mercy, and it feels so good and so incredibly frustrating.
“Asher, please,” I plead. “Please, more.”
His fingers move to right under my thigh, pushing me higher, and his tongue plunges deep inside of me. I want to writhe as he fucks me with his mouth. I want to force him where I want him, but I can’t do anything because I’m against the wall.
“Do you like this? Do you like my face between your legs, tasting your sweetness?”
Oh, do I ever. “Stop talking,” I say with frustration.
“Would you rather I do something else?” His voice is teasing. “Would you rather I lick this pussy until you come?”
“Yes!” I moan, slapping the wall.
“Yeah, I bet you would. You taste so good, beautiful. I could stay here for hours.”
“I want to come,” I tell him.
“Then I better get to work.”
Asher’s tongue presses against my clit, flicking it, and then he moves his hand so his thumb is just lightly penetrating me. I have never felt this good, this free, while being unable to move. He is actually going to make me orgasm like this. “Oh!” I gasp. “Oh, shit! Asher!”
I’m so close. He penetrates a little deeper, and my orgasm rips through me so hard that I feel as though I’m falling, and I don’t dare try to stop the ripples of pleasure that are rioting through me. When I open my eyes, I’m on my back, looking up at the ceiling. I push onto my elbows, and Asher is still against the wall, but gone is the lust-crazed man. He has been replaced by someone far too serious and very much unwelcome.
“What the fuck are we doing?” he asks, his blue eyes filled with regret.
“I think we both know what we were doing.”
“Phoebe.” His voice cracks, and I will not let him say it. I refuse.
I will not let him say how we can’t do this. How this is wrong. How I am wrong for him. I’ve done this dance, and I left with more than a twisted ankle. Were either of us thinking? No. Clearly, this wasn’t planned, but it happened, and I need to keep my dignity.
“Hand me that blanket.”
He grabs it off the back of the couch, and I wrap it around myself like a protective shield. I will not let him give me all his bullshit reasons.
“I am not asking for anything, so you can relax. We both had a long night, and we’re clearly not thinking right.”
“I owe you—”
I lift my hand. “If you say an apology, I swear to God, I’ll punch you.”
He smiles. “Glad you stopped me.”
“Look, we’re both consenting adults. No, this is not a great idea, but we didn’t do anything we can’t move on from.” I push up to my feet, my legs a little wobbly, but I stand tall. Asher rises as well. “I love Olivia. I love spending time with her. I will be leaving in a few months for whatever grad program I get into. And, like we said, this didn’t happen.”
He nods slowly. “Right.”
