“And I didn’t agree to be your wife, but that’s still happening, isn’t it?”
“Why seek confirmation on something when I already know what the answer will be?” He sounds cocky. He has a right to be. I dreamed about being his wife since I was six. I’ve never wished for anything more.
Feeding off his arrogance, I lift my torso off his desk and spin around. The tingle racing through my veins makes my stride wobbly, but I’m facing a much bigger battle than an impending climax. I’m fighting to show Asher he wants this as much as me.
“Zariah. . .” he warns in a growl when I push him with enough force, he lands in his office chair with a thud.
He’d continue teasing me if he wasn’t fascinated by the way I’ve lowered myself onto my knees in front of him. “Why seek confirmation on something when I already know what the answer will be?”
As the hiss of a zipper breaks through the silence, he strokes my jaw, softening it for the exhausting activity it’s about to undertake. I’m still a novice when it comes to all things sexy, but I’ve been shown a few tricks the past four weeks. Asher is a great teacher, and I’m a more than eager student.
“Moisten those lips, Zariah. Get them ready to be stretched.”
You could call him cocky, but I see it more as confidence. It’s not an act when he has the goods to back up his claims.
“Scoot back. We need leverage to ensure I fit all the way down your throat.”
After I shuffle back, he stands to his feet, tilts my head to the correct angle, then feeds his cock into my mouth. I suppress a gag by swallowing when he takes it to the very back of my throat.
“That’s it. Deepthroat my cock like you’ve been taught.”
I feel the hum of his words all the way to the base of his dick, amplifying my choking response when my airway is restricted by him. Whether being choked by his hand or by his big cock stretching my throat, I love the sensation that comes from it. It’s weird, and I honestly feel a little dirty, but Asher doesn’t seem to mind.
When tears well in my eyes, Asher’s thumbs stroke my cheek and jaw. He soothes the pain rocketing across my face, but he doesn’t slow his grinds in the slightest. He fucks my face, growling when my lips reach the clipped hair displayed across his pelvis.
My hand stops skating down my stomach when Asher growls, “Touch that clit and I’ll drench your throat with my seed instead of your cunt.”
His threat makes me want to fondle myself even more. I’m surrounded by his scent, gagging on his cock, all while he stares down at me with lust-filled eyes. I’m not strong enough for this.
“Zariah.” He already knows me so well, aware no amount of threat will stop the tsunami cresting in my womb. “If you come—”
Fireworks explode in front of my eyes before his entire sentence leaves his mouth. It’s a beautifully terrifying climax that has me choking on more than Asher’s cock.
With a hazy, lust-clouded head, I don’t realize Asher’s cock has been yanked from my mouth until I’m plucked off the floor and planted on Asher’s desk—right as he burrows his head between my clenching thighs.
“Your orgasms are my fucking orgasms, Zariah. I own every one of them.”
His deep timbre intensifies my climax. I scream his name on repeat as my lungs fight for air. I feel like I’m drowning, the sensation unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. His tongue is fucking me as well as his fingers did. It is a vicious, frenzied exchange that heats me up everywhere. He’s angry I took his victory away from him, but more than that, he’s annoyed he’s been left to lap up the remnants of my climax instead of devouring it during the process.
He has said time and time again the past month that he loves when I come on his face. That and being able to smell me on his skin are what keep him going in the hours we’re apart. It’s crude yet beautiful, and makes me fall for him even faster than I did when we were kids. The feelings I have for him are deep, dark, and rough, but they’re also real. It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt.
“Asher. . .”
“Shh, Little Mouse. I’m not angry. You’re not in trouble.” He climbs up my body to seal his mouth over mine. I taste myself on his tongue when he spears it between my lips. He kisses me almost tenderly, like he too heard the sentiment in my tone. “Open up for me, Zariah. Let me in.”
One of his hands cradles my face as the other notches the crest of his cock into the entrance of my pussy. His coat bunches around my stomach when I curl my legs around his waist to help him fill me.
At a time when Asher would usually turn into an animal, shredding my clothes off with no consideration of their price tags, he’s gentle and sweet. He rocks into me slowly, the grinds of his hips precise and calculated. It’s not about punishment. It’s about pleasure and love.
His perfect pace, the heat of his breath on my neck, the praise he whispers in my ear about how good I feel, and that he’ll never want anyone but me are too much. The open rawness of our lovemaking has me choking back tears. I honestly feel like I can’t breathe.
It might be easier once I get this off my chest. “I love you, Asher Yury.”
Tears leak down my face when he murmurs into my ear, “Wrong again, Little Mouse. You don’t love me. You own me. Every piece of me is yours. Completely. Wholly. Without constraint. I am yours.” I bite on the inside of my cheek to stop more tears from falling when he lifts his head from the crook of my neck to peer down at me. “And you are mine. Back then and now—”
“And forever?”
He bites my lower lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. He hates my tears even more than I do. “And forever. No one will ever take you away from me again, Zariah. We’ll never be apart. I promise you that.”
