Chapter 15
Alyse
Holy hell. I have never in my life had a sexual experience like this. Yes, mouths, fingers, and cock have pleasured me—or in some cases, attempted to—but I’ve never been worshipped with a man’s eyes the way Asher is doing to me now.
Exalted.
Revered.
Like I am the only thing that has or will ever matter to him.
That’s a stupid, foolish thing to think so early on, but I know what I’m feeling. I know what I see. I know what he’s silently telling me.
His eyes have mine snared. Helpless. I’m unable to do anything but fall further and deeper within their warm, bottomless pools as I follow his command, guiding him to my opening. I sink down slowly and we both groan. It’s exquisite. My lids feel heavy, but our eye contact never breaks.
He’s big.
He’s thick.
He stretches me to my limits.
But I’ve never felt anything more perfect in my life.
He grabs my face between his strong hands, holding me tight as he thrusts into me, my multiple orgasms making his drive easy and smooth. My breath hitches and my body burns. I need him to move more than I’ve needed anything. Ever.
“Alyse. Jesus…you feel too damn good. So fucking perfect.”
He withdraws slowly, pushing back in slowly. He does this over and over again until I am crazy with want.
Delirious with need.
Frantic with the desire for him to possess me.
He never lets my face go. Never lets my eyes leave his.
“Fuck me harder, Asher.”
“No, baby. I’ve never felt anything like this in my entire life. I need to savor you.”
“Please,” I pant. “Possess me. Own me.”
“I am, Alyse. I am. You’re mine now.”
“Possess me faster,” I beg.
But he doesn’t. He just continues his methodical pace, pleasure etched over every inch of his face. I’m on fire. I need to come. My hand snakes between us, but he grabs it, pinning it behind my back.
“Asher, please.”
“Your orgasms are mine, Alyse. Mine to give. Mine to withhold. They all belong to me now.”
A long moan leaves me, a cross between intense euphoria at how right he feels and sheer frustration because I need more.
Jesus, this is like deliberate torture.
I want hard.
Rough.
Messy.
I don’t want tender. It’s suddenly making me feel too vulnerable. Now, my earlier thoughts about being completely consumed by him are suffocating me. Like a weight that’s slowly pressing me into the ground. Asher’s slowly been taking pieces of me day after day; some I freely give, some I’m trying to hold back, but it’s like they’re drawn to him.
Like they’re his already and they’re finally being called home.
I feel the chains tightening. I feel the lock trying to slam back together. Inside I’m having a slight panic attack and I’m trying to keep it from showing, forcing him to take me like I need instead. This is exactly what I do when people get too close. I try to shut them out. God, I could win a Pulitzer, I’m so damn good at it.
But Asher’s perception about my inner struggle doesn’t go unnoticed.
His hips halt. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” I roll my hips, causing us both to moan. I need to get him back on task so I can get the hell out of here and back to the safety of my self-imposed lonely prison. Why do I have to be so fucking screwed up? I almost want to cry.
One hand leaves my face, palming my hip instead, but the other holds me steady, so I’m forced to watch him. Just when I think he may end this, trying to have a heart-to-heart instead, he takes a different tactic. He resumes his slow, methodical plunges, causing my eyes to roll back before refocusing on him.
“Do you know there are different forms of possession, Alyse?”
I don’t answer. I’m in such excruciating pleasure I can’t string vowels and consonants together, let alone instruct my tongue and lips to make sentences.
“Quick. Fast. Brutal.” He punctuates his words with vicious thrusts. I nearly come from the pleasure his movements stir in every sensitive, swollen nerve ending. I’m so damn close, a couple more pumps and I’ll be flying.
But he doesn’t give it to me.
“Surrender is inevitable, but it’s messy. It’s fleeting. It doesn’t last.” Pulling me to his mouth, he takes my lips in a hard, deep, almost-savage kiss that’s completely contradictory to the way he’s now slowly pushing into me again.
“Slow. Methodical. Deliberate,” he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips. “That possession, Alyse, that surrender is beautiful. It’s transcendent. It’s eternal.” Pulling me back down, his lips brush against my lobe as he whispers, “And that’s what I want from you.”
What if I can’t give you that?
As if he reads my mind, he murmurs right before taking my mouth again, “You will give it to me, Alyse.”
Asher takes his sweet time, making me come twice more. He only picks up the pace at the very end, seconds before he climaxes, finally tensing and releasing on a roar. Our bodies are covered in a fine layer of moisture, our breathing is ragged, and as we sit here wrapped in each other’s arms, my emotions are all over the goddamn board.
I’ve never felt so raw.
I’ve never felt so exposed.
I’ve never felt so consumed.
I’ve never felt so wholly loved by anyone.
And I’ve never felt so damn scared in my life that someone is about to see the real Alyse for the first time.
But my real fear is: what if he doesn’t like her?