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“Say it, Reina,” he orders against my ear.
“You…it’s for you. Only you.”
“That’s my prom queen.” He claims my lips in an all-consuming kiss as the wave pushes me left and right. It takes me high, just to drop me back down again.
When I come down, he’s watching me with a hardened gaze, so consuming and…uncut. He’s not hiding any of his emotions right now.
He’s all bare.
If I were a better judge of feelings or not caught in the orgasm halo, I could’ve probably read those emotions.
I could’ve probably had something to go with.
But I don’t.
My chest rises and falls at a frightening speed. With each inhale, my nipples brush against his T-shirt, hardening even more.
I lie completely naked underneath him while he remains clothed. That’s not how it’s supposed to go.
Hooking my trembling fingers on either side of his T-shirt, I pull it over his head.
He lets me, but he’s watching me with a guarded expression. The uncut version is gone and his suspicious self is back on.
I hate it when he hides from me, when he builds forts and summons guards, when he calculates his every movement.
Soon, he won’t.
I’ll get under his skin as deep as he got beneath mine and he won’t be able to hide anything from me.
“What are you doing, prom queen?” His hands fist on either side of him as if he’s stopping himself from doing something.
“Making things fair.” I meet his gaze with my imploring one as I throw the T-shirt away.
“You never undressed me before.”
“I’ll fix that from now on.” I lean over and grab the waistband of his sweatpants and drag them down his legs.
His hard cock springs free of its confinements, and I get caught eyeing it. Asher grunts as I watch it. Almost as if he’s feeling me touch it.
“Fuck, Reina.” He kicks the sweatpants away and slams me back against the bed. “For the last goddamn time, what’s your game?”
“You,” I whisper.
“Reina,” he growls, impatience slipping into his tone. His dick twitches between my thighs, his impatience matching my own.
My fingertips touch the corner of his mouth. “It’s always been you.”
He pauses. I pause, too, realizing the weight of my words.
It’s always been you.
How long are we talking about? Since I regained my memories? Or does it go way back?
Asher doesn’t allow me or himself to think about it.
He wraps a hand around my throat. It’s not tight to cut off my breathing, but it’s firm enough to keep me from moving. It’s firm enough to translate his dominance.
If it were another person, I would’ve asked him to use protection, but it feels wrong with Asher. Besides, I’m on the shot. I checked during one of my visits to the hospital, because maybe I’ve been thinking about sex with Asher for some time now.
