Page 45 of Asher

“Do you have a meeting?” I asked between his kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and around to grip my ass, hefting me against him.

“No,” he said, drawing back enough to look down at me. “This is my down time.”

I grinned up at him. “I can think of a better use of your down time,” I said, and his eyes flared. “Is there somewhere we can be alone?”

Sure, we were alone in the private box, but I’d bet my savings that someone was about to burst in here to clean it, and with what I wanted from Asher? That was the last thing I needed.

“Come on,” he said, smirking as he took my hand and led me out of the room. He practically dragged me behind him through the hallways, his long stride eating up the distance at rapid speed until he stopped in front of his office door.

“Asher,” I said, grinning deviously as he hauled me inside and locked the door behind us. “You said you never do this.”

“I don’t,” he said, eyes churning as he grinned at me. “Didn’t you write something like this?” he asked, turning to face me.

I nodded, my entire body a live wire from the anticipation.

Asher slid his hands in his pockets, leaning against that door. “And what happened?”

Heat soared through me, but I glanced around his spacious office, eyes skimming over the rich leather sofa that would’ve been the first choice for me. But he wanted to know what happened in my scene, so…

I walked toward his large glass desk, rounding it until I leaned against it, facing his huge leather chair. “My hero,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “Sat here.” I motioned to the chair.

Asher stalked across the office and took a seat before me. “And she was here?” He asked, reaching up to smooth his hands over my hips.

I nodded.

“And then what happened?”

I swallowed hard, anticipation flaring through my veins at the game we were playing. I shifted out of his touch, just enough to peel my leggings and shoes off and toss them to the side.

Asher tracked the move, eyes lingering on the way my Reapers jersey just barely covered my panties.

“Then he put her on the desk and scooted the chair up at just the right height to—”

I gasped as Asher plopped my ass on his desk, needing no more direction. He adjusted his seat, dropping it so he was eye level with my thighs. He slid his hands along my legs, the touch lingering and searing as he climbed higher, hooking his fingers into my panties and gliding them down my legs.

My heart raced against my chest as he took his time, savoring the touch as he parted my thighs wider, and then lowered his head between them.

“Asher!” His name left my lips when he set his mouth on me, his tongue gliding through where I was aching for him.

He wrapped an arm around my lower back, urging me closer to the edge of his desk, and then holding me there as he licked and lapped, each stroke working me into a white-hot knot. I tangled my fingers in his hair, gripping him and leaning back slightly on his desk, chasing that feeling as I arched into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he moaned against me, the vibrations hitting my oversensitive flesh with another wave of pleasure. “You taste like a dream,” he said, pulling back enough to smirk up at me. “Tell me what happened next,” he demanded.

I whimpered, barely able to remember what had happened next, but managed to say, “My billionaire—”

“Fuck right, I’m yours,” Asher cut me off, flicking his tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves. “Keep going,” he demanded while he tortured me.

“He…” I was breathless, my heart racing as Asher ate at me, plunging his tongue in only to draw it out and tease my clit, working me in such teasing strokes that I felt like my whole body was on fire.

“He what, Daisy?” Asher asked, his tone gravelly and pleased with himself.

“He used his fingers too,” I said on the end of a moan.

“Like this?” Asher slid two fingers inside me, pumping and curling them as he teased my clit with his tongue.

“God,” I said. “Yes. Just like that.” My grip tightened on his hair, my hips bucking off the desk to meet his thrusts, chasing that sensation that was building inside me like a rising storm.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Daisy,” he said, pumping his fingers into me deeper. “So responsive.” He slowed his pace, drawing out the tension so much I looked down at him with pleading eyes. “You’re going to be a good girl for me now,” he said. “And come on my tongue.”

He slid his fingers out, replacing them with his tongue, thrusting inside me while he flattened the heel of his palm against my clit—

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