Page 85 of Wilder

I flicked my gaze down to the mess he’d made of himself, his stomach looking just like I’d wanted it to—slick and sticky.

Fuck, I could stare at him like this forever.

My cock gave a half-hearted tug, reminding me of my own relief. Gently letting him go, I ran the back of my finger along the length of him one last time before wrapping my hand around my own cock, tightening my fingers while I began to stroke it.

The cum still coating my hand made for a nice, unexpected lube that had my balls squeezing. I wasn’t going to last long, not while seeing Asher in this state, one I’d tried not to fantasize about and failed miserably pretending otherwise.

He’d been my guilty pleasure for too long. One I needed to quit but couldn’t.

If I was smart, this would end the second we both walked out that door. But lord knew, I was never the type to quite learn my lesson the first time around. Not until I’d been beaten over the head with it a few times until I had no sense left in me.

For now, I still had a ways to go.

A deep, ragged groan tore from my throat as I spilled over him, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach and chest, dripping down the ridges of his abs as it marked him just like I wanted. My hips jerked forward, chasing the last waves of pleasure as I rode it out.

Fuck, that was good.

I barely managed to keep myself upright, one hand quickly bracing against the desk beside his head as one last squeeze of pressure passed over me.

Asher glanced down at the mess I’d made of him.

There was something calculated in the way he lifted his hand up from the desk, hovering just above his stomach. Two fingers dipped down, scooping up a healthy glob of our combined spend, and lifted them without hesitation, no sense of shame bringing them up toward his mouth.

He met my eyes, held them steadily, and parted his lips.

Oh.

He flicked his tongue out to wrap around the digits, pulling them past his teeth to suck them clean.

My cock gave one last pathetic jerk.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Just what I thought you’d taste like.”

It hit me then that instead of ruining Asher, he’d done it to me first.

How fitting.

CHAPTER 21

Asher

Was it sad for a handjob to change the entire trajectory of one’s life?

Or was it some kind of divine fate?

Because whatever the fuck happened back in that office with Wilder yesterday was still melting my goddamn mind.

The way he’d touched me, pinned me down and held me there with no mercy. Looked at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of me, every second. Marking me like he was trying to stake his claim so no one else could.

I’d fucking eaten it up like a starving man, longed for more the second he’d hauled me up off of that desk and readjusted my clothes before patting my ass on the way out the door. I was fucked if I thought convincing myself I could be satisfied with any of that being a one-time thing was possible.

It wasn’t and I’d be a damn fool for trying.

Shoving my desire back into the box I was never supposed to open in the first place seemed obsolete at this point. That lid had been ripped clean off and burned to fucking ashes. Now that we’d both been truthful about wanting each other, pretending otherwise felt like unnecessary torture.

Who cared if he was my boss?

Or that he was more than a decade older than me?