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Finally, the top popped up, over my already sensitive nipples, and gathered in my armpits. I went to move, wanting to help him get it the rest of the way off, but Asher stopped me with a sharp look.
“I said,” he reminded me, tugging the top up further. “Don’t let go.” Somehow, Asher manhandled my shirt over my shoulders and up to my elbows, settling the tight band of fabric over the top of my head, far enough to expose my mouth and nose, but not high enough to release my eyes. The move plunged the room into darkness, the thick material of the shirt acting like a blind fold as it held my arms to my head and my hands against the bars. “Good girl,” he growled, impressed with his handiwork.
My nipples liked it too, judging by the way they suddenly spiked around my barbells. Asher noticed, his satisfied hum rattling through me as he cupped both my tits in his big palms, kneading them together over and over.
“Been staring at these tits all night, Betty,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Watching you work, laying down ink for the first time in your very own shop. You were so close, but so far away, working so damn hard. Proud of you,” he continued, and I moaned, as much from his words as from his touch. “Damn proud, baby. You were amazing tonight, and everyone knew it. You and Violet, making shit happen for yourselves.” I sensed that he leaned back a bit, sliding his hands off my breasts, his fingers delivering a smart pinch to each of my nipples as he did so.
It was fuckin’ incredible.
“Love watching you work, baby,” Asher went on, his body moving farther down the bed, leaving me with goosebumps as my body responded to the loss of his heat. “Seeing the way people come to you, trusting you to put your art on their bodies. That shit means something, Ricki. People come to you for something they will keep with them for the rest of their lives. That’s powerful. They value their pieces, and they choose you to give them to them.” Pressing his lips to my stomach, the feel of his coarse beard lighting up my senses as my eyes stayed trapped in the prison of my own shirt. “It’s so goddamn sexy, that kind of power.”
“Asher,” I breathed, my mind spinning with his words as his fingers slid under the waistband of my leggings. “More.”
“More what, baby?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Use your words.”
“Fuck,” was all I could manage, and Asher chuckled.
“We’ll get to that, don’t you worry.” He slipped my pants off my feet and my panties soon followed. “But the journey is half the fun, isn’t it? Now, tell me what you want from me, baby.”
“Touch me, Asher. Please.” Part of me was embarrassed by how desperate I sounded, my hips rising off the bed over and over as I searched for some sort of friction, hoping to locate his body by touch alone. “I need you to touch me.”
“Where, Ricki? Here?” His warm hand was suddenly around my ankle, drawing my leg off the bed until I could feel his lips pressed against the tender skin of my calf. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Higher,” I demanded, spreading my legs in invitation.
“Here?” he asked again, and this time his mouth landed on my inner thigh, an opened mouth kiss followed by a broad stroke of his tongue. I groaned in frustration, but that only caused him to kiss me there again, this time delivering a good amount of suction that I was certain would leave a mark.
“Fuck, Asher. Please.”
“I told you I needed the words, Ricki.” As he spoke, I could feel his hot breath ghosting against my damp center, so close to where I needed him, but still not nearly close enough. “If you want something from me, I’m gonna need you to be really, really clear about it.” Blowing out a cool stream of air across my exposed clit that caused me to hiss in desperation, Asher chuckled again. “Communication is key in any successful relationship.”
“Eat me!” I snarled, still unable to see him, but fully able to picture the smug grin I knew would be plastered across his handsome as fuck face. “Stop teasing me and just fucking eat me, Asher!”
Taking one of my thighs in each hand, Asher sunk his fingers into my flesh hungrily.
“With fucking pleasure,” he growled, before bringing his face against my pussy and doing exactly that.
Asher feasted on me, his mouth wide and his tongue wild. He ravaged my body like a starved man, licking and tasting every possible part of me. As he held me open with his hands, Asher prodded my entrance, his tongue invading me as far as our bodies would allow, then retreating to stroke against my clit, the contact sending sparks of electricity across my body.
“Fuck, Ricki. I can’t get enough of the fuckin’ taste of you.”
Without being able to see him, I couldn’t guess at where he was going next, and Asher followed no discernible pattern, his questing mouth moving from one incredible point of contact to another almost as soon as he’d started.
Wrapping his lips around my clit, Asher shook his head rapidly from side to side, his low moan vibrating against my already too-sensitive skin. It felt incredible, his beard abrading my flesh as his tongue soothed each rough pass.
Complete sensory overload.
Clenching my fists around the bars, I arched my back, trying desperately to contain the sensations firing through my body. It was as if someone had filled my veins with gasoline and Asher Dunn was the match.
“Come on my face, Ricki,” he said, his words muffled because he refused to pull back from my body. “Do it. Show me what a good girl you are and soak my fuckin’ face.”
And, like the good girl I was learning I was, that’s exactly what I did.
Chapter thirty-four
Asher
Un-fucking-believable.
