“It took a couple of hours, but I got you that drink.”

Asher sets down the glass of wine in front of me, and I don’t take my eyes from the large stone fireplace in the middle of the living room of the villa.

“You really didn’t have to do that. I’m fine with my tea, kind of trying to lay off alcohol.” I test the conversation between us, wanting to talk about the elephant in the room.

Dinner at the chalet was nice, the whole group got dressed up and had good conversation and even better food. Asher and I had made small talk, but it was still going on two days here and we hadn’t addressed anything. And I felt it, the tension or whatever it was. Maybe I was building it up in my head, but I had always valued being up front and honest. I needed to get it all off of my chest.

He sits down on the couch with a foot of space between us. “I didn’t think you drank that much anyway.”

“Well, I made some mistakes in Vienna.”

“I don’t think you did.” His tone of voice makes me think he’s trying to avoid.

I needed to cut the bullshit. “Listen, Asher … I’m still not super sure what happened in Vienna. I got drunk, I said some things, and I got sick. I’m not sure where in there we went wrong … but I kind of thought we had something going. If not, you can correct me. And if you don’t want to continue, then I’ll accept that as well. But I don’t want this awkwardness between us. You don’t have to avoid me, and I apologize for whatever it is that I did. I just want to be an adult about it, because I do genuinely like you. Even if you were a huge arsehole when we met.”

A smile spreads wide across his face. “Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out, you surprise me again, princess.”

He hasn’t called me that since Vienna, and it secretly makes bubbles of giddiness float up from my stomach.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, by the way.” Asher turns to me, his long, muscled arm on the back of the couch. I’m in a trance listening to his clipped British accent, the sound tickling my heart and between my thighs. “If anything, I’m wrong.”

I try not to smile or feel any sense of hope, because maybe this conversation is only leading to the place where we don’t continue what we are doing.

He looks at me in a deep sort of way, like he’s trying to see my soul. “I wanted to be alone with you, you don’t know how badly I wanted that. And when you got sick, I wanted to take care of you. That is what … made me go a little bonkers to be honest. I’m not a one-girl kind of guy, Nora … and I think you know that. I don’t do caring or sensitive or nice. But with you, that’s all I seem to want to do. It makes me a little wonky, makes that arsehole part of me want to rear its ugly head.”

“I’m not asking for anything you don’t want to give, I want to make that clear.” I say it, but I want so badly for him to prove me wrong. To want to want the same things that I do.

“I know that, you never put any expectations on me. But you see, you make me want to be better, Nora. You make me want to have you put expectations on me. And that … scares me. Jeez, I sound like a child.”

“You kind of do.” I promised I’d be authentic. “Asher, I like to be around you. I enjoy our banter and when we hang out. I even like when you kiss me.” I blush, because I can’t talk about being physical with him without getting embarrassed. “I’m new to all of this too, but I do know that I like you and only you. That I’m not afraid to say it or keep … being together.”

There, I’d been honest. My heart was pounding out of my chest as he sat on the other side of the couch, staring at me with those twinkling eyes.

“I want to be together with you too. Only you.” Asher bridged the gap between us, his strong arms coming around me. “And I’ll try not to be a bloody wanker.”

I absolutely melt. “I guess that’s all a girl could ask for.”

His response is warm lips meeting mine, the fireplace crackling in the background as he stokes the embers inside of me. It’s the first kiss we’ve shared in what feels like a lifetime, when in reality it was less than seven days.

Asher’s mouth feels new, unexplored, and I am greedy as our tongues meet. He nips at my lip and I moan in surprise, the action catching me off guard but shooting straight to my core. Strong, callused hands wrap in my hair, pulling gently at the strands and moving to caress my neck. My skin is burning up, my fingers reaching to stroke his strong jaw and feel the muscles lurking beneath his black sweater.

“Come to my room. Please.” Asher pulls away, leaving the invitation hanging between us.

The two sides of my brain wage war, debating whether it’s smart to go or stay. But last night, this was all I had wanted … and now it was staring me in the face. I felt it in my gut, this was it. All my life, I’d gotten feelings deep in my stomach about what was right to do and what was wrong.

And right now, going up to Asher’s room with him was the right thing to do. “Okay.”

Everyone was either out at the bar in the chalet, or in the hot tub outside. Quietly, Asher took my hand and led me up the stairs and down the hall to his room. We didn’t talk or kiss on the way, but my skin prickled with anticipation. Where our fingers were locked, I could feel the underlying heat and need.

He pulled me gently inside and locked the door behind me. It was dark, but the white snow covering everything outside the window made everything glow with a light that only the moon could provide.

In that moment, I felt truly vulnerable for the first time in my life. “I’m not … I’ve never …”

Asher cuts me off, putting a finger to my lips. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I gulp, nodding against his hand. He leans in, kissing me again, and then we’re moving. I grab hold of him, let him make the decisions because I’m not sure I can think with all of the arousal and anxiety buzzing around my head. The backs of my knees hit something solid, and I know that we’re teetering at the edge of the bed.

Fingertips toy at the hem of my sweater, and I suck in a lungful of air.

“Relax. Is this okay?” His smooth accent purrs in my ear.

My nipples bud at his voice, and I nod into his shoulder. Slowly, so slowly that I have to hold my breath, Asher lifts my sweater up and away. The cool air of the room hits my bare skin, and I have an instinctual need to fold my arms across my chest.

“Let me see you.” Asher’s voice is husky as he prevents me from doing just that, reaching down and twining his fingers through both of my hands. Silently studying me, I feel his eyes trail over my simple navy bra and down toward the waistband of my jeans.

“I want to see you too.” I don’t realize I’ve spoken until his eyes shine bright with devious pleasure.

Asher’s head tilts, those dark black locks shifting a bit, and then he pulls his sweater over his head with one hand gripping the fabric behind his neck. I’d seen him in his rowing uniform at the regatta, and then once after school when he’d been going to practice. But neither of those experiences had prepared me for this.

I’d also seen shirtless men before, even ones my own age. But those meant nothing compared to a real, live Asher in front of me … the first boy who I’d really been attracted to naked just inches from my own shirtless body. His muscles looked as if they’d been carved into his flesh, his arms long and brawny from the hours spent in the boat. He had a little white scar running up his left shoulder, and his nipples were dark against his olive skin. Six perfectly sculpted ab muscles stuck out like bricks against his flat stomach, and I couldn’t help but reach a finger out to touch them.

I’d never been alone, in a dark room, this close to a boy that made my heart beat out of my chest when he was around.

“You’re beautiful.” The simple words make my throat burn.

The need to clench my thighs together in my jeans is strong as Asher lifts me by the elbows to sit on the bed.

“Scoot back.” He tells me as he starts moving onto his hands and knees, crawling up toward the pillows. With his dark hair and soundless movements, he’s like a panther ready to strike on its naïve prey.

We both reach the top of the bed, and I rest my head on the fluff of pillows. Asher faces me, a streak of moonlight crossing his chest. I’m tingly and I feel like I can’t take full breaths, my lungs won’t hold the normal capacity.

His hand reaches for my cheek, and we meet in the middle, our kissing session from downstairs continuing on a deeper level. There is more speed involved, and when he moves his hands to my bare stomach, a single firework detonates in my stomach. It fizzes into every part of my body, and fills me with enough boldness to reach out both hands and palm the muscles on his stomach.

Asher hisses into my mouth, and I pull back, thinking I may have done something wrong.

“Keep them there.” he growls, but his eyes are compassionate, and he dives back in for another kiss.

I put my hands back, exploring his warm flesh as our tongues dance and light the fire in between my legs. Before long, I’m squirming and I can’t quite seem to stop. Asher’s hands move up, sending goose bumps trickling across my skin. And soon, his fingertips play at the exposed skin of my breasts, wandering along the top of my bra cups in a teasing manner.

He pulls back, the question in his eyes. I nod, gulping because I know that I’m about to cross a line I’ve never ventured over before.

Painstakingly, Asher’s fingers reach behind my back and undo my bra. I feel the straps loosen, the cups give. My nipples bud even tighter, and in a second they’re exposed, seen by a man’s eyes for the first time.

He palms them, rolling the buds in circular motions. The action makes me rub my thighs together and strain my neck, a moan involuntarily escaping my lips. I grab the skin in my hands tighter, and Asher moves his hips against mine. I can feel how aroused he is, the hard length of him pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

After a few minutes of kissing and fondling, it’s not enough. I burn in a place I’ve never burned before, and I’m not even embarrassed by the noises I’m making. All air leaves the room when Asher reaches for the button of my jeans, but I don’t stop him.

“I’m going to make it feel good, but it will hurt first.” he whispers against my hair.

My body tenses, thinking I need to reciprocate the favor and not knowing how. I reach for his button, fumbling to undo it.

“No, let me do this first. I want to make you feel good, Nora.” His voice is sincere, and makes me flush all over again.

I keep my hands on his stomach, and let him push my jeans over my hips and down. How he knows it will hurt, that I’m a virgin, I’m not sure. Maybe he guessed, or maybe it shows. The thought flits out of my head when his hand breaches my underwear.

Thick fingers feel around my core, pulling gently at the hair on my pelvis. I bury my head in his shoulder, suddenly self-conscious that I’m not bare like most of the girls my age. I just never thought to shave it, and now I don’t know what he thinks.

“This is so sexy.” Asher rasps into my ear, and a jolt of wetness burns through me.

His fingers travel south, stopping when he swirls the wetness at my core between them. Then he presses one long, dexterous finger against the swollen button, and I shudder with sweet relief. It feels incredible, out of this world, indescribable. His rhythm picks up, circling faster and with more pressure.

“Oh God …” The words escape my lips.

“I’m not God, princess. But I can make you feel better than him.”

A screech emanates from my throat when something invades me, pushes inside me. The burn mixes with pain, and pleasure circles around it. The two mix as Asher pushes his finger in deeper, a dam in me bursting. Slowly, the buzz of pain fades and a tidal wave of ecstasy follows it.

“Please …” I don’t know what I’m asking for, but Asher seems to know.

He slowly pulls the finger out, and then pushes it back in. I squirm, gripping his abs tighter. He continues the rhythm, slow and torturous, leaving me teetering on the edge of some kind of cliff.

I’m only half-conscious of Asher popping the button of his jeans open and pulling the zipper down, freeing himself. I watch in lustful awe as he tugs on himself, the thick erection in his hand turning my stomach inside out and making me burn even more as his finger plunges into me.

I want to make him feel the kind of pleasure he’s making me feel. Tentatively, I reach down, covering his hand with my own. His eyes burn as my fingers touch his heated skin, the hardness not as solid as I thought it would be. It’s more like velvet-wrapped steel, soft but rigid all at the same time. I circle my hand around his length, and stroke as I just watched him do.

“Bloody hell, Nora …” His head drops into my hair as I do it again, and he adds a finger inside me.

I can’t help but moan louder, which only makes him increase his rhythm. And that only makes me squeeze him harder, pull on him faster. It’s like we’re the fuel to each other’s fire, and only our hands can light the matches.

Everything moves like a blur, fast but slow, sweet but sinful. I’m so close to something that I can taste it, and it feels like my skin starts to sing in a way. My toes curl, and everything inside of me - every nerve ending, hair, follicle - feels like it’s going to combust.

A careening moan hits my ears, and I realize absently that it’s from my own mouth. My whole body convulses with the orgasm that Asher takes from me, and I squeeze my eyes shut to focus on the intense pleasure coursing through my system.

“Christ!” Asher growls, and wetness coats my hand where I’m still stroking him. My lids fly open, and I watch his face as it contorts with relief and gratification.

As my ears stop buzzing from the pressure that my body lets out, I realize that his fingers are still inside of me and my hand is coated in his pleasure.

“I didn’t know.” The thought must pop out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“Huh?” Asher sounds breathless.

I blush even though he’s still touching the most intimate part of me. “I never understood what all of the hoopla was about … until just now. That felt …”

“I know.” He smiles, kissing my cheek.

We clean up, with him handing me tissues and letting me use his bathroom. And when I go to leave, he pulls on my elbow and tells me to stay.

We don’t talk about the fact that I’m a virgin, or that he’s the first boy to ever touch me in that kind of way. He just gathers me in his arms under the covers and nods off.

I don’t think I sleep more than an hour, my brain is so full of thoughts.