I step forward, feeling bolder and more like myself than I have in months, and cup his face in my hands. I run my thumb along his cheekbone and he tilts his head into the touch, eyes fluttering shut ever so slightly. ‘The only thing I want right now, isyou.’
His eyes snap wide open and he makes a noise that sounds halfway between a whimper and a desperate groan. It takes me a second to realise he’s saying my name. ‘Imani.’
‘Please,’ I murmur, and I don’t need to elaborate. He knows exactly what I’m asking for.
Without a hint of hesitation, we pick up where we left off earlier this afternoon. It’s as if the hours between then and now were just one long inhale we’re finally letting go of.
There’s nothing tentative about this kiss. There’s no hesitation, no room for second thoughts or self-doubt. It’s the kind of kiss that steals every rational thought from your mind and replaces it with something raw and fevered.
I need more.
I grip the front of his shirt just to stay upright as he backs me towards the wall, his lips tracing fire down the side of my throat. His hands find my waist; mine slide up his chest, popping off the buttons on his shirt as I go.
I drag my nails down his chest and enjoy the way he breathes my name against my mouth like a prayer. I slide myhand back up to his collar and tug him closer until there’s no space left between us, until I can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat against mine.
It feels like I’m pouring every last emotion that’s been building up inside me these last few months into the kiss; the ache of pretending, the frustration, the impossible pull towards him that’s been coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of my stomach every day. I want him to feel what I can’t say out loud.
That I like him.
That I like him so much it’s starting to terrify me.
That I wish things were different and we actually had a chance at being something together.
That I’m sorry.
Asher kisses me back like he already knows all of it. Like he’s already forgiven me. His lips trace the corner of my mouth then the curve of my jaw and then the space just below my ear. I let out a soft moan when his nose grazes the line of my throat. He pauses there for a second, and I feel the way his lips curve slightly against my skin before he bites down on the spot where my pulse is racing the hardest.
I let out a cry and arch against the wall, as he goes seamlessly from biting the spot to sucking at it gently. His tongue laps at the sore spot and the sensation of it sends a jolt of arousal shooting through me. I can feel my nipples hardening to tiny, pointed peaks through the fabric of my dress and I squirm underneath him.
Off, I think.I want them off. My clothes. His. Off. Off. Off.
I open my mouth to voice the thoughts running circles in my mind, but Asher takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and I melt against him, all my thoughts and words dissolving into a breathy whimper. My hands find his shoulders, then his hair, and I tug just hard enough to make him groan into my mouth again. It’s a sound I want to bottle and play back on every lonely night when I’m up late wondering,what if we ever had an actual chance?
He grinds into me and I gasp as I feel, for the first time, the weight of his firm dick pressing against me.God. I lift a leg and wrap it around his waist and have to bite back a moan of pleasure as he slides against the fabric of my panties.
Have I ever wanted anyone this badly before? Have I ever been so desperate? So wet and ready? I don’t think so. There’s something about him – something about the way his hands dig into the curve of my ass as he effortlessly carries me like I’m weightless across the room – that seems to set every nerve ending in my body alight.
‘You,’ he groans, face buried in the crook of my neck, ‘are going to be the end of me.’
So we’re on the same page, then.
He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed and sets me down gently in front of it. Before I have the chance to question him and ask why he didn’t drop me down onto the soft duvet and ravish me like I deserve (and desperately want), he reaches behind me and finds the zipper of my dress.
He doesn’t drag it down right away; instead, he toys with it, letting it slide a few millimetres before he tugs it back upagain. Each slow inch feels deliberate, and I realise he’s giving me a preview of what’s going to come later.
I make an irritated sound and he laughs. ‘Alright, love.’
Love.
After everything we’ve done so far, I’m not sure why this in particular makes my heart skip a beat. Maybe it’s the gentleness with which he’s touching me. Maybe it’s the way he’s staring at me, refusing to break eye contact as his finger plays with my zipper. Whatever it is, my breath catches in my throat.
He finally tugs the zipper all the way, then hooks a finger beneath the strap of my dress and slides it gently downwards, his lips chasing the path his fingers just took.
‘Ash…’ I start, squirming on the spot. My legs feel like jelly and I want to move onto the bed, but his mouth drifts lower, to the curve of my shoulder and his name evaporates on my tongue.
He tugs at my dress with his other hand and it slides down my body, pooling at my feet in a waterfall of black silk. I kick it to the side, suddenly acutely aware that I’m standing in front of him wearing only a thong and some heels. I have no urge to cover up though. Not while he’s staring at me likethat.
It feels like his gaze alone could set me on fire. My skin prickles and warms in quick succession as he reaches out and traces a finger around the swell of my breast. He circles my nipple with his thumb and every single coherent thought I’ve ever had evaporates in an instant.
