Page 80 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
"Asher."
His name is a plea I can't hold back, and something in his eyes goes wild at the sound.
His fingers find me already slick and ready. The contact has me gasping, my head falling back against the wall.
Oh fuck. He's going to destroy me.
"Soaked." The word comes out wondering, almost reverently. "All for me."
"Don't let it go to your head." I try for sarcasm, but it comes out breathless and weak.
"Too late."
His fingers move with devastating skill, finding exactly the right spot and pressure to turn my knees to water. When I sag against the wall, he adjusts his grip on my wrists with one hand, using his body to support my weight while his other hand works magic between my thighs.
This is what I've been missing.
The thought blazes through my mind as he finds a rhythm that has me climbing quickly toward the edge. His fingers move with the same attention he applies to everything else, each touch calculated for maximum impact.
He actually cares whether I come.
"That's it." His words are encouraging now, less commanding and more coaxing. "This is about what I can dotoyou, not what I get from you."
The gentle tone undoes something inside me more effectively than any demand could. This isn't just about possession or control, it's about him wanting to be the one to take care of me, to be the one I turn to for this. The realization hits me harder than his touch.
"Oh god."
The words tear from my throat as he finds a rhythm that sends me hurtling towards the edge.
"Not god." His mouth finds my ear, breath hot against sensitive skin. "Me. Only me."
The possessive growl, combined with another perfect stroke of his fingers, sends me flying over the edge. My orgasm crashes through me with devastating force, my body arching against the wall as far as his grip allows, a scream tearing from my throat that echoes off the walls of his house.
Holy shit. I've never come that hard in my life.
"Beautiful." His voice is rough with want as he watches me fall apart, his fingers gentling but not stopping, drawing out every aftershock.
"Absolutely beautiful."
When the tremors finally subside, my legs give out completely. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest as I slump against him.
"I've got you."
His voice is softer now, but no less intense. He lifts me easily, the height difference enabling him to support my weight while keeping me pressed close against the wall.
But instead of letting me recover, his mouth finds mine again, hungrier now, more desperate.
"We're not done."
Oh.
His words against my lips send a fresh shiver through my oversensitive body.
"Not even close."
One hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. The sting has me gasping, and he takes advantage, his mouth moving to leave more deliberate marks along the column of my neck.
"Damn it, Asher—"
