“You’re exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.
The words send heat rushing to my cheeks. He trails kisses along my jaw, down my throat, over the swell of my breasts—unhurried, like he has all night and intends to use it.
“Please,” I breathe, the need building within me as he takes his time, savoring every inch of my skin.
He pauses, pulling back to look at me. For a moment, the world outside fades away. The intensity in his gaze sends my pulse racing.
“Tell me what you want, Nora,” he commands.
“I want you to make me yours,” I whisper.
That's what breaks his patience. He drops lower, mouth closing over one nipple while his hand slides between my thighs.
“Is this what you want?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my nipple as he presses his palm flush against my pussy.
“Y-yes,” I gasp, my body thrumming with urgency.
His fingers slide through my slickness, slow and deliberate. I cry out as pleasure spirals through me.
“Daddy,” I pant, losing myself in the pleasure he’s giving me.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark and filled with a hunger that mirrors my own. “I want to hear you come for me,” he commands.
I nod in urgency. He returns to his task, stroking my pussy deeper. The tension in my body coils tighter and tighter, and I can feel the edge of ecstasy hovering just out of reach. Just when I think that I can’t take it anymore, he curves his fingers inside me, and I see stars.
“P-please, don’t s-stop,” I beg, my voice trembling as he adds another finger, his pace relentless.
With each thrust, I feel myself spiraling closer to the edge. “Come for me, baby girl,” he urges, his voice low and commanding.
The wave crashes over me, pulling me under as I cry out his name, pleasure consuming me entirely. I quake beneath him, feeling every tremor of bliss. He holds me tightly, his fingers still working me through my orgasm.
He lets me ride out the high before finally positioning himself between my legs. He pauses at my entrance, the blunt head of him pressing just barely against me. His eyes find mine, dark and intent, and I feel the tension in him—the restraint, the way he’s holding himself back for me. He knows. He’s known since that first night.
“Easy, baby girl,” he murmurs, low and rough. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
He eases in slowly, giving me every second I need to stretch around him. God, he’s big—the stretch borders on too much, a sharp bright edge of pain that has me gasping, nails biting into his shoulders. He goes still instantly, buried only partway, jaw tight with the effort of holding back.
He doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He watches—my face, my breath, the way my body slowly loosens around him—and when the pain finally melts into something molten and needy, I arch up into him. He takes it as the answer it is.
“Oh…” I moan aloud as he moves.
I feel every inch of him. “More,” I say, his shallow, testing thrusts turning me mindless.
His strokes deepen, and each one sets off a fresh wave that rolls through me. He builds a steady rhythm, sliding deeper, and my body answers on its own, arching to meet him.
“You feel so good,” he groans, his grip on my hips tightening as he loses himself in the moment.
He thrusts harder, filling my pussy until my nerve endings sing. My inner walls spasm and clench around him with every deep stroke, and the ache coils tighter and tighter—an eruption waiting to break.
I rake my nails down his back, thrashing with an intensity I’ve never felt. He gives one more thrust, and I shatter into a million pieces.
“Asher!” I cry, clenching around his cock so tightly I feel every pulse of him inside me.
The waves pull me under, and his loud grunt breaks over me as he releases inside me, claiming me in the most intimate way there is.
We collapse, breathing hard, bodies tangled. Asher’s arms wrap protectively around me, and I nestle into his warmth, feeling safe and cherished.
“You’re mine. Never forget that,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against my ear.
