He didn’t give her a moment to catch her breath.
He shifted his angle, gripped her hips tightly, and pulled her down against his mouth like he meant to devour her whole. One tongue teased. The other penetrated. And all of her came undone.
Again. Harder than before.
Violent in its intensity, her climax tore through her like a storm, leaving her limp, shaking, and sobbing out broken syllables that might have been his name.
But Ashar wasn’t finished.
He brought her down, slowly, gently, onto a conjured surface that felt like silk and fire. She didn’t question it. Couldn’t. Her brain was melting. Her limbs were useless. And he was above her now, crouched between her legs like a man who hadn’t just made her come so hard she saw into alternate dimensions.
“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing her hair back, eyes searching hers.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears like the aftermath of a thunderclap. Her nipples were still tight, her skin hypersensitive to the whisper of air between their bodies. Even blinking felt like an effort.
She was wrecked. Properly, divinely, demonically wrecked.
She nodded, barely, throat dry, and she swallowed hard. He wasn’t human, not even close. “You’re not human.”
He smiled, and it was beautiful andterrifying. “No, not exactly, but I’m exactly what you needed.”
He pushed her legs wider. Stroked a hand down her thigh, then up, fingertips tracing the slick heat of her, spreading her open, just looking for a moment, watching her twitch, gasp, and moan.
And then, without a word, he slid two fingers inside her, slow, deep, curling just right. His mouth replaced his hand on her clit, and he began to move. Not too fast, just right. Building her again with maddening precision, like she was an instrument, and he was playing her into symphonic madness.
And when she started to come again, faster this time, messier, too raw to fight it, he added a third finger and whispered against her, “Let go.”
She did.
It wasn’t a scream. It was a wail, deep and cracked and desperate, her entire body bowing off the bed like the orgasm was trying to yank her soul out through her cunt.
She collapsed.
Ashar slid up her body, kissing her stomach, her ribs, her throat, until he was hovering over her, his face smug and soft at once.
“You’re glowing,” he said, voice like velvet and sin.
Blair opened one eye. “No, I’m not.”
“You are. A little. Happens sometimes when I overdo it.”
She groaned. “You overdo it?”
He kissed her forehead. “Only for the worthy.”
And Blair’s thought, boneless and dazed, was:
No way I imagined that.
Blair wasn’t sure how long she lay there, breathing like she’d just outrun God. Her limbs wouldn’t move. Her brain was soup. The shiver inher thighs had yet to settle.
Ashar just watched her.
Kneeling between her legs like temptation incarnate, like he’d done nothing but warm her up.
She blinked slowly. “You’re still hard.”
He didn’t deny it. He just smiled, a lazy, predatory, patient expression.
