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Fallon and Declan had never returned from their trip to Atlanta.
Who was next?
Still, I steeled myself, braced myself, metaphorically closed the shutters against the oncoming hurricane.
“Asher, I love you.”
His breath caught. Slowly, as if approaching a cornered beast, he ventured a step towards me.
“Say it again,” he whispered, pupils dilated.
“I love you.”
He was directly in front of me, his hands clasping my shoulders. His fingers flexed, tightening and then loosening on the bare skin my tank top revealed.
“Again.”
“I love you.” Feeling bold, I wrapped my arm around his neck and played with the blond hair there. He shuddered at my touch, eyes imploring me silently. For what, I didn’t know.
“Addie, sweetheart,” he groaned softly.
“I love you.” My hand tightened in his hair, and his chest vibrated with a growl. The look in his eyes now was a carnal hunger, a desperate need. And love. It softened his face exponentially.
“Adelaide.” Something in me tightened at hearing him use my full name. “I love you.”
And then he crushed me to him. I groaned as our lips met, desperate for more, but Asher seemed determined to take his time and savor me. His lips moved slowly against mine, and despite my repeated attempts to demand entrance, he refused to open up. Instead, he peppered light kisses over my lips before lowering them to my jawline. I instinctively tilted my head, granting him better access.
When he pulled away, his eyes were hooded.
“Sweetheart, I want to show you how much I love you. Will you let me?”
I nodded, feverish to feel his hands back on me, his lips meshing with my own. Asher complied immediately to my wordless request, his mouth devouring mine once more. This time, he didn’t hesitate to open for me, his tongue tangling with mine. He tasted like peppermints, and I never would’ve thought something as insignificant as his taste could send heat straight to my core.
My hips began to gyrate against him, need churning low in my belly. I needed him to touch me, to help me fend off the emptiness, to show me that he loved me as wantonly as I loved him.
If there was one thing I knew about Asher, it was that he loved to please. He wasn’t like the others with intense foreplay.
No, he proved his love by giving me exactly what I wanted.
His hand pulled down my pants and panties in one go, and his finger sheathed itself in my wet heat. I groaned, bucking against him, but his second hand went to my hips to hold me in place.
“Asher…” I moaned. Begging him to...do what exactly?
Fortunately, Asher heard my plea and added a second digit alongside the first. He began to stroke me, softly at first and then faster as my moaning intensified.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, reclaiming my lips in a heated kiss.
A third finger joined the other two, pinching my clit.
“I’m going to come,” I warned him breathlessly. Not that I cared. It just seemed like something you were supposed to say.
Or, at least, that’s what porn taught me.
I didn’t expect my confession to cause Asher to stop, and I nearly cried in disappointment when he removed his fingers.
Honestly, at that point, I was thinking of reneging on the whole love thing.
Asher dropped to his knees, and before I could ask what he was doing, he put his mouth on my clit. And sucked.
